Warning, this chapter uses excessive cussing in the dialog.

Chapter 7: A Child’s Hell

“Fucking hell!” screamed a boy—no older than fourteen—as he took the pricey, virtual reality headset off and bashed it into the ground. His small frame betrayed his intentions; the helmet impacted hard but remained unscathed. “I’m going to fucking kill that bastard-piece-of-shit peasant!” His shouts reached every corner of the house.

The collar of his shirt bunched as he put it into his mouth. Teeth clenched as wails tried to escape unmuffled from the fabric. He threw himself onto the bed, flailing like a toddler. Tears of rage streamed from each eye. His hysterics turned each word into high pitched sobs, which barely projected past the snout-soaked muzzle. “I’ll fucking kill him”—sniffle—”I’ll fucking kill him.”

After hearing the screams of her only child, his mother rushed to the scene. Her expression of maternal concern clashed with a lavish amount of makeup. She wore an elegant, red dress that accentuated her modest bust; the billowy bottom kept the rest of her figure at the forefront of imagination. A pearl necklace draped below volumized, black hair. She always pampered herself with the most expensive jewelry whenever the occasion would permit.

“Alessio! What ’sa matter? You hurt?” Her thick, Italian accent, acquired from meager intelligence and limited time in the states, made it hard to understand.

“Mother, he fucking killed me!” whined the boy as he let the shirt fall from his mouth.

“Alessio, my bambino, you're not hurt?” She took a seat on the bed. Her hands began to rub his back and eventually turned into a consoling hug. A kiss to the top of his head was the last straw; as a teenager, her son wanted no part of his mother’s good nature.

“Don’t touch me! I’m fine” he barked. A quick shove ended their embrace

“‘I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong. Talk to me, il mio bambino.”

“Bitch! I said I’m fine.” His words struck a chord, but she feigned deaf. All that mattered was Alessio’s safety.

His father could never tolerate foul language. Lacking any parental instincts, he slowly walked to his son’s room after the first outburst and arrived just in time to reprimand the unrespectful youth.

“You will not speak to your mother in that way!” he scolded, grabbing his son’s chin and forcing the boy to look directly into his father’s eyes. “No son of the Luca family will behave with such insolence.”

The two parental figures couldn’t have contrasted any starker. His father acquired a burly build from years of avoiding the gym, and the wrinkles on his forehead spoke of an age well above his significant other’s. Although an accent broke through at times, his years of English studies masked it with pronunciation and vocabulary above most native speakers.

As the heir to the Luca house, Alessio’s father lived through an upbringing of strict rules and manors. It produced a well educated man full of pride, dignity and pent up aggression—traits he both failed and succeeded in passing to his son.

His trophy wife—a ringer on holiday cards and in the sheets—tended to smother the kid. Their inseparability made it hard to teach him any semblance of self reliance. Alessio’s ideology revolved around himself. He never cared for others, excluding his mother; though that changed once he became a hormonal teenager. The unruly child needed something to straighten him out, and that responsibility fell onto his father more often that not.

Time seemed to slow as the sound of the man’s fist drilling into Alessio’s jaw stilled the room. More than the cold throb on his tear-soaked cheeks, the boy’s pride burned. He always knew he lacked substance in his father’s eyes; the beatings always spoke the truth. Every subtle attempt to win the man’s praise over the years never amounted to anything. As much as his father wanted to disown such a disgrace, Alessio wanted to escape from those unloving eyes. It was the main reason he loved virtual reality so much.

His mother remained motionless. Nothing terrified her more then her husband once he got into a mood. It was best to sink into the background and become one with the obscure. No harm could come to her that way, but her son wouldn’t be so lucky. She prayed for a miracle. If the need arose for her intervention, she doubted her feet would move an inch.

Before the situation could escalate Alessio fled. Using his small frame he darted for the door and sprinted down the hall. The shouts of his father spewed vicious insults.

Their mansion-like house consisted of innumerable rooms and hallways. Most of the building remained unexplored even after a twelve year residency. It was quite easy for Alessio to hide when he didn’t want to be found. In one of the guest rooms on the third floor there was a hidden space above one of the closets. Its’ design originally meant it as a play area for children, however the obscure entrance left it off even the maid’s radar.

The inside displayed meager furnishings. A few pillows, blankets, a plasma tv, and several gaming consoles inhabited the room. This was Alessio’s safe place. It’s where he went whenever he needed to escape reality. Whether his mother excessively smothered him or his father felt like releasing stress, he could come here to escape it all.

With the advent of virtual reality there existed one more barrier to place between himself and this life. His father spearheaded the marketing campaign for Alvarez Online in the United States. It’s the reason they moved from Italy shortly after Alessio’s second birthday. With his position in Karma Industries, the maker of Alvarez Online and the virtual reality headsets, they had a surplus of everything related to the technology. Even in the kid’s safe place he had a spare helmet reserved for times like these.

Though nearly five hours remained until his ban from the game came to an end, he still wanted to get away. Surprisingly, for a technology so new the helmet barely weighed anything. It fit as though a tailor crafted it specifically for his child-sized head. The constriction of the helmet gave a sense of security to Alessio. Once he turned it on he could forsake his torment and become Luca—the soon-to-be, strongest knight in the Alvarez kingdom.

The strangeness of activating the virtual reality helmet without returning to the game nearly overwhelmed him. The place that he sat gave off an eerie vibe. The pitch black room with no visible walls and a strange, sourceless light shining above came straight from a horror film.

His fear allowed the shadows to come to life. Walking, watching, snarling—they held unknown demons, each with long, razor-sharp claws and thick daggers for teeth.

For the first time Alessio felt insecure in his safe place. He tried to rip the helmet from his head after the logout commands didn’t work. No matter how hard he tried his consciousless body in real life wouldn’t move to his will. He found himself stuck in a new hell moments after escaping the last.

“Welcome, Luca.” The voice that broke through his fear came from a women, yet sounded distant and in every direction. The delicate, loving tone brought forth memories of his mother.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” the voice soothed.

House of Wolves

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Author’s Notes

Chapters 7-9 stress the mature tag a bit more than the others, though I try not to go over board. Chapter 9 will be the worst of the bunch and it was in no way my intention to make it as fucked up as it is. I apologize in advance and will do so again when that chapter releases along with a longer explanation. I hate when stories have out of place gore, language, or adult content, though from my perspective those aspects of my story fit well into the plot.

This chapter has yet to be proofread. If you would like to you can proofread it Here.