It was the year 1979. Lovino Vargas was home alone and doting over himself. He and his family had recently moved to the united states from their home in Italy and after settling in Lovino had met the love of his life. Now, most people would think this love was a beautiful, Italian woman, but it wasn't. He wasn't like most men in the country, his love was a male. Of course, he knew this wasn't well liked in the world and so did his fiancé, and for that reason they were planning to elope. They had dreams of running away, back to Italy, marrying and starting a life together in the country. Lovino was currently busying himself with packing and taking anything they'd need on their journey when the sound of the front door opening caught his attention. No on was supposed to be home for hours and Miguel had said he'd be there by two. The Italian looked to the clock and frowned, it was only just hitting noon, who could that be. With one last look at his suitcase, Lovino dusted his clothes off and exited his room to see who it was that had entered his house. However, halfway down the hall he froze and listened to the sound of at least three people rummaging around downstairs. Was this…a Robbery? The Italian had no idea what to do in this situation, should he call the Police? Ah, but the telephone was downstairs- should he try to fight them? He was too small and obviously outnumbered. He settled on trying to sneak out the front door so he could find some sort of help. He took a few hesitant steps towards the stairs and peeks down them, there wasn't anyone in the front hall. With that relief he began descending down the stairs. However, right as he went to grabbed the doorknob he was caught round the waist and pulled backwards and thrown to the ground. He gave a startled cry and stared at the large man hovering over him, He was easily six foot and extremely buff, There was no way the Italian could ever fight him off. He was hit over the head with a force that left his ears ringing and his vision blurry. It completely knocked down his defenses and he couldn't even fight as his pants and underwear were torn from his body. He couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't do anything as this person- no- this monster had his way with the Italian. It wasn't until it was over that Lovino's vision returned to him. He couldn't see where his attacker had gone but he could not move an inch, a throbbing pain pulsed through his entire body and he thought he'd puke as he felt something warm sliding down his thigh, was it blood or something else? He didn't even want to know. As he caught sight of the man walking back towards him he tried to crawl away, obviously in too much pain to stand. He was grabbed by the hair at the back of his head and pulled back. That was when he noticed the man held something in his hand, something that shone in the bright light of the chandelier, a knife. Hazel eyes widened in fear and before he could shield himself somehow, a searing pain ripped through his abdomen over and over again until he lost count past thirteen. A terrifying stench rose into the stale air in the room, metallic and salty. Blood. His blood. The pain lasted long after the Italian had given up on screaming. His throat hurt too much. The last few things he remembered was the front door opening, a woman screaming and someone grabbing him before he succumbed to the darkness.