So I'm pretty sure that this is the most disturning thing I've ever written. Read at your own risk. If you enjoy reading this sort of thing, please feel free to do so and review.

Tainted Soul

The story of Pavi Largo is not a happy one. Some may even call it tragic. The fact of the matter was that he wasn't always the face-stealing nymphomaniac he is known as today. He certainly wasn't born with the desire to wear the faces of deceased women or his desire for sex for that matter. Yet, somewhere deep inside, Pavi knew that he was different. Sure, it was never easy being the middle child but, he played with his little sister despite the fact that Rotti seemed to like her better, and he tried to get along with his older brother despite that he was a bullying rage-machine. He loved his father too and competed with Luigi to try and earn Rotti's pride. The thing he had wanted most of all however, was his mother's affection.

It seemed strange to Pavi, that he felt that way in first place. After all, weren't mothers supposed to show affection to their children all the time? Were they not supposed to shower them with kisses, offer words of comfort when the child was sad, make them feel better when they were hurt. So why didn't Estella do any of that for him? From the moment Pavi was born, he adored his mother as all children did. He thought she was the beautiful thing in the world and he followed her everywhere since he had turned five. This didn't particularly bother Rotti but it did make him question Pavi's feelings especially since this behavior continued on for years. He knew it was normal for little boys to develop crushes on their mothers but he began to wonder when it would end. He recalled one day when Pavi was six years old and didn't know any better, he asked for his mother's hand in marriage. Rotti laughed uncomfortablely and brushed it off as nothing, Luigi called him a sick weirdo, and Estella just shook her head and rolled her eyes. Poor little Pavi who didn't know any better frowned at the rejection. He retreated to his room and sobbed silently, wondering why he was so different. He just couldn't understand why his mother was so indifferent towards him. He did everything he could to impress her. He drew her pictures, made her little gifts, tried to make her laugh by trying on her make-up, complimented her every day, and yet she continued to look at him with unconcern and disdain and go back to admiring herself in the small hand mirror she carried.

Pavi had once tried to ask Luigi about his own mother, he had soon found out that had been a mistake. Luigi soon became incredibly angered and hit Pavi repeatedly. Pavi pleaded and apologized and Luigi continued to beat down on him until a maid had to get between them and break it up. Pavi never asked Luigi about his mother again. Instead he tried not think about how much he sought out his mother's attention and turned to his studies in order to impress Rotti. He wanted to have at least one parent's attention. He was particularly interested in art. Then again he loved anything that was aesthetically pleasing.

Pavi wasn't sure why but he had an appreciation for beauty from a young age. He liked pretty girls and pretty boys equally, the beauty of his native Italian language, and his own physical beauty. People had always called him such a cute little boy and that he looked so much like his mother. This made him happy and it made him feel a little closer to Estella. He was quite sad when she and his father had decided on the divorce. He was sadder still when Estella didn't put up one ounce of a fight in order to get custody of him. The new woman that Rotti married, Marianne, was kind and very pretty but Pavi knew she could never be his mother. After Carmela was born, his father became quite occupied with the new infant and with Luigi doing whatever it was he did by himself all day, Pavi retreated back to his studies.

After expressing an interest in learning his native language, Rotti hired a private Italian tutor for him once he turned fourteen. Her name was Alda. She was 20 years old and one year away for earning her bachelor's degree at the local university. She had short auburn hair, green eyes and a smile that made Pavi's heart race from the moment he met her. He quite enjoyed their private tutoring sessions and looked forward to her visits. She was a good teacher and Pavi had learned a lot from her. She was also a good listener and sometimes when they were done studying they would just talk for hours, she was great listener. To Pavi, she was more than just his tutor, she was also his friend. Secretly he imagined himself to be older and strong, like his brother. Perhaps then he and Alda could be more than just friends. It had been about 3 months since Alda began tutoring him and one day during their study sessions, Pavi sighed sadly.

"What's wrong, Paviche?" she asked, using his full name.

"It's nothing." he said, smiling at her and trying his best to look convincing.

"C'mon, Pavi. I know you better than that." She rested her hand on his knee and he looked at her with a distraught expression.

"Come now, il mio piccolo prodigio, tell me."

Pavi sighed once again. "Well I just got back from visiting my mother earlier today. We went to this little café not too far from here and I told her how much I was improving."

"And?" Alda urged him on.

"That's exactly what happened! All she said was "And?" as if my progress meant absolutely nothing to her. I don't why she even bothers to agree to see me once in a while. She doesn't care about me! She never has! She's always seen me as a burden!"

Pavi then broke down and allowed angry tears to run down his face. Feeling ashamed, he buried his head in hands and set it on the table.

Alda ran her fingers through his hair. She leaned down to shush him whispering in his ear. "There, there. Non piangere. Its alright, Paviche."

He looked up at her and sniffed. She wiped the tears away and smiled sweetly.

"Mi dispiace, Alda. I didn't mean to ramble like that. I feel like an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Pavi. There's no need to apologize either. You know I'm here for you."

Pavi smiled back at her. "Thanks, Alda."

She continued to smile and stroked his cheek, causing him to blush. "Sei un bel ragazzo, Paviche."

"What?" he asked, confused.

She giggled and repeated herself in English. "I said that you're a beautiful boy, Paviche."

This time he blushed a beet red which caused her to giggle more. "Alda?"

"Yes, mi bello?"

"I was just wondering, you don't have to say yes but…can I…I mean may I…kiss you?"

She smiled and nodded. He quickly turned and pecked her cheek, smiling bashfully.

Alda shook her head. "That wasn't a real kiss, Pavi."

He gazed at her, eyes widening. She leaned in closer to him and whispered sensually. "Let me show you." She said before pressing her lips against his.

From then on, the two had started their strange yet passionate relationship. They both knew it was wrong by the social standard and so they kept it a secret. Pavi knew how furious Rotti would be if he ever found out and yet the idea sort of excited him. For the first time in his life, Pavi felt alive and truly loved by someone that he loved himself. Yes, Pavi loved Alda and was confident that she loved him. Their regular study sessions had soon turned into make-out sessions and then something more. Yes, Alda had taken Pavi's virginity when he was 15. Although she had been the one who had initiated it, Pavi took quickly to his dominant role. He had heard several stories of other's first sexual encounters but he never knew that it would be this great. It soon became quite addicting, although at this point he couldn't imagine being intimate with anyone else but Alda. They didn't just have sex, they made love, no matter how much of a taboo it was. Everytime after they finished, they held each other for some time and gazed into each other's eyes. Pavi had hoped they could stay that way forever. Unfortanely, he found that life doesn't always work out like we want it to.

By the time he turned sixteen, Pavi was considered to be the best looking member of his family. He was tall, had a lean figure with just the right amount of youthful muscles, flawless pale skin, smooth jet black hair, blue eyes, and a smile worthy of a movie star. Older and young ladies his age alike swooned at his looks and charm and he knew it. He had always been quite flirtacious from a young age and it only deepened as he grew older. He knew very well that he could make gentern blush by merely winking at them. Sometimes he even went as far as to whisper sweet little nothings into their ears and teased by them by leaning in just close enough, as if he would kiss them. Then he would pull away and leave them with wanting more. Although it wasn't uncommon for beautiful women to throw themselves at him, he did not touch them, no matter how curious his primal needs were. No, despite all of the attention, he was perfectly content with Alda.

One day, Pavi believed that it would benefit him from recieving facial surgery, just a little botox and perhaps more definition in his cheek bones. He figured that since his father had so much trust in his company and since his brother and sister had already went under the knife themselves, why not he. Rotti felt that Pavi's reasoning was a bit unecessary, he agreed nonetheless, wanting to keep his son happy. They both soon found out that this had been a mistake. The surgery had left Pavi's face horrendously scarred. When he woke from the anesthesia, he felt a burning sensation on his face and knew something wasn't right. He demanded to be handed a mirror. When the surgeon advisted against it, Pavi ignored him and retrieved it himself. The reflection in the mirror was not him. It couldn't be. This wasn't the face of Pavi Largo, handsome and adored by all, no this, this was the face...of a monster. Pavi screamed and threw the mirror to the ground, springing out of the hospital bed and shaking the horrified doctor, cursing and demanded to know what he had done. It took three nurses and two hours to finally calm down. When he was taken back home, he immediately retreated to his room and locked the door. Rotti tried to reason with him, apologizing and suggesting another surgery to fix it. Pavi firmly refused. He would never get another surgery after this incident. Surgery was what ruined him.

Pavi stayed locked in his room for days until Alda finally came and knocked on the door.

"Paviche? May I come in?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, bella. I don't want you to see me like this." he answered from the other side.

"Please, Pavi. I'm not here to judge you. I just want to talk. Please? Just for a minute?"

Pavi gulped and his hand shook as he reached for the door. If there was one person he had been dying to talk to, it was Alda. At the same time, he couldn't bear the thought of her seeing his marred face. Surely she would scream or laugh at him. There was something in her voice though, that made him open the door. As soon as he did, he retreated back into the shadows so she wouldn't see.

"Pavi, won't you turn the lights back on. I can't see you."

"Thats the point." he responded bitterly.

"Please, Pavi. Let me help you."

"No one can help me. Not even you, mi amore."

"Let me try."

"If you see what they've done to me, you'll leave me.'

"I'll never leave you, Pavi. I promise."

Pavi sighed and reluctantly flipped the light switch. His back was still turned to her so she walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He slowly turned and revealed himself. Alda frowned up at him, clearly disturbed but did her best to keep her composure. She gently cupped his cheek.

"You're still beautiful, Paviche." she finally said.

Pavi gazed at her and she smiled at him. He couldn't believe it. Even though he was physically deformed, Alda still loved and accepted him. He thought she must have been an angel. For a moment, Pavi was happy again.

When he finally turned eighteen, he decided that he would ask her to run away with him. He drove to her apartment to surprise her with a boquet of her favorite flowers: orchids. She wasn't answering so he checked under the mat where he knew she kept her spare key. Sure enough, there it was right where she left it. He bent down and retrieved it, smiling as he stuck the key into the lock and twisted it, excited to see his beloved. When he opened the door, there she was, wrapped in the arms of another man. She was caught up with the figure that she didn't even notice him come in. The boquet dropped from his hands.

"Alda?"

The girl quickly turned her head upon hearing his voice and gasped. "Paviche?"

"What are you doing?" he asked credously

"Who the hell are you?" asked the strange figure. Alda was left speechless.

Pavi glared at him. "I happen to be her boyfriend."

The man laughed. "Boyfriend? Why would she waste her time with a freak like you? Especially when she can have me." He turned and kissed her hard.

Pavi growled and charged towards them, swinging his fist at the man who insulted him and landing a blow to his left cheek causing him to break apart from Alda.

"That hurt you little twat!" the man yelled now swinging his own fist at Pavi.

"No, Serg! Don't hurt him please!" yelled Alda, blocking him and getting in between them. "Please let me handle this."

"What is this, Alda? Are you gonna get rid of this kid or what?"

"Please just let me talk to him." She turned to Pavi and smiled sadly. "Why don't we go outside?"

Pavi looked over her shoulder and glared at Serg who gave him a cocky smirk.

"Sure, let's talk." he said. Alda nodded and led him outside and they took a seat on one of benches outside the apartment complex. Alda gave a heavy sigh and Pavi grabbed her hand.

"Alda, mi amore? What's going on? Why were you with another man? Has he been taking advantage of you? Because if he has- "

"No, Pavi. He's my...he's my fiance'."

Pavi's eyes widened in shock. "W-what did you say?"

"I'm sorry, Paviche, but I've been seeing him for a year and he proposed this morning. I said yes."

Pavi's grip on her hand tightened and his teeth clenched. "So you've been cheating on me."

Alda nodded. "I'm sorry, Pavi. I met him at the university and just couldn't help myself. I cared so much for you I couldn't bear to stop seeing you...but now I think its time you that we said goodbye."

Pavi glared and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her violently."So you lied to me? When you told me that you loved me? That you would never leave me?"

"Pavi, please! I'm sorry! You were just a boy! I'm nearly seven years your senior. Surely you didn't think that we had a real future!"

"Of course, I did! Because you made me believe it! Traditore!" He leaned in closer to her and she cringed. "It's because of this isn't it?" he asked pointing to his scars. "Because of that surgery that left me looking this way? Is that it?"

"N-no" she protested. "I never cared about the scars."

"Mentitore! It was bacause of this. This is why you betrayed me. Tell me the truth!"

Alda gulped and frowned. Finally she gulped and nodded.

"I knew it! Traditore! Mentitore! Puttana!" He raised his hand to slap her.

Finally, Serg stepped out of the apartment and pulled Alda away from Pavi. "Get out of here, you freak before I beat the shit out of you! And stay away from Alda!"

"Keep her!" Pavi yelled. "I don't want anything to do with that whore. Have a nice life, Alda. I hope you too are happy." Pavi stormed off and found his way back home.

That night, he threw a fit of rage in his room and broke whatever he could find. He turned over the furniture burned every photograph of Alda and himself. The last thing he broke was the large vanity that he kept over next to his bed. It was the second one he ruined after the surgery. After destroying his room, he was breathing heavily and his hands were covered in blood from the shattered glass. He leaned back against the wall smeared the blood as he slid down. As much as he wanted to cry, he told himself that was unacceptable. He was a man now and men didn't cry. Instead he clenched his fists and cursed himself. How could Alda betray him like this? He thought that in her, he had finally found someone to love but it had all been a lie. Nobody loved him. Not Alda, not Rotti, not Luigi or Carmela, not his mother. In that moment, Pavi came to a realization. There was no such thing as love. Not in this cruel world. Well then, he thought, if they world is going to be cruel to me, I may as well be cruel back. With that, Pavi rose up and left his room and found his way to the kitchen where he found a sharp carving knife. He tucked the knife under his shirt and headed for his next destination. Alda's apartment.

The next thing he remembered before he blacked out was the bloody sight of Alda and her lover, their bodies sprawled across the floor. He looked down and realized that his hands and clothes were also covered with blood. He dropped the knife in shock and bent down to examine Alda's corpse. He brushed her hair away to look at her face. Although blood dripped from her lips she looked peaceful and still very beautiful. Pavi stoked her cheek.

"Sweet, Alda. I wish it didn't have to end like this. I wish you could have stayed with me forvever." Just then, another thought struck Pavi. Maybe he could keep her with him. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached for the knife began to carefully cut around the edges of her face. When he was finished, he took the bloody countenance to her ktichen sink and rinsed it off. He then walked over to the mirror hanging in the hallway and placed her face over his own and he smiled.

"Now you can never leave me." he said, letting out a soft and wicked laugh.

From then, Pavi had not only found a way to get over his deformity but also a new and exhilerating sense of power. He used his charisma and false sweetness to seduce and lure women into his arms. He took their innocence and then he took their most important quality: their beauty. Just like his face, his soul was now forever tainted.