The word 'accident' was never one Luigi used frequently.
He never had accidents. Every act of violence performed by the eldest heir was almost always on purpose, and usually had a valid excuse behind it, also the GENterns annoyed him.
Besides, he couldn't help it when he attacked. He was, after all, a schizophrenic psychopath.
He shouldn't use that as an excuse but sometimes it was just easier.
But this time, however, was an accident and shit was his Pop going to be mad.
He'd hated his brother from the moment Paviche was born, thirteen years ago. Well, he didn't hate him, as hate is a strong word, even for Luigi, who's tongue was the foulest of them all. He just detested the child, better word for word.
Though Pavi never deserved this, even in the day and age where technology outnumbered mother-nature.
--
He'd been possessed, he was sure of it; he had that same feeling in his gut when he sliced a GENtern up for laughs.
But then that feeling had been multiplied by two thousand, divided by four and multiplied again. Anger came and went in different degrees for Luigi.
The way the knife cut like butter through the flesh of the younger Largo satisfied Luigi far too much, the shlick and splatter of flesh and blood forced him to carry on slicing. It was only when he stopped after there was barely any flesh left that he had realized just what he had done.
Shit.
He ran to his sister before he told his father. He was scared. For once The Great Luigi Largo was scared. But Carmella was too young to understand; she looked at the blood covering the eighteen year olds shirt and hands and fled to her room into the safe comfort of Pony Pink and Birdie - her fucking dumb stuffed toys.
Luigi had grizzled, still shaking from adrenaline. He drew a deep breath and made his way to GeneCo towers, a journey which seemed to take forever.
"Pop…" Luigi hesitated as he stepped out of the elevator crossing the room and stopping by his desk. His father stayed facing the other way the whole time.
"What have you done this time?"
"Pop, this is bad, look at me."
Rottissimo Largo, head of GeneCo, swivelled around on his chair, half expecting Luigi to have dragged yet another mutilated member of his staff in with him. And was surprised to only see him covered in blood. He cocked an eyebrow questioningly.
"It's Paviche," He paused, looking at his father's plain expression. "I've… he needs medical attention right now."
Rotti looked down, sighing. He turned to his Hench-girls, who nodded in return and left to seek some GENterns to the younger Largo.
"I have told you time and time again, to leave your brother alone. Something serious is going to happen, one of these days. But do you listen? Do you ever listen? Get out of my sight right now, you monster."
--
Comments like that hurt. Fathers shouldn't call their children monsters. But for Luigi it was said more than 'I love you'. He was used to it, he didn't give a fuck, and you don't need love when you're as tough as Luigi.
He sat outside Pavi's bedroom waiting nervously. When the Hench-girls had discovered the general state of their boss's son's face they had called in the SurGENS, and now the room was occupied purely by them, Pavi himself, the Hench-Girl's and Rotti.
Luigi could do nothing but wait. He pulled out his switchblade, still covered in blood, and began stabbing at the chair he was sat on. Anything to pass the time quicker.
It wasn't long, however, before a nervous GENtern was poking her head around the door. "Luigi, your father says you may come in now." He nodded, sparing the GENterns life.
Luigi walked up to where his father was sat. His brother lay on the bed, his face bundled up in bandages, sleeping quietly.
"Pop, I'm sorry." Luigi whispered.
"It's not me you should be apologizing to; after all, it's not my face you've ruined."
Luigi bit his lip. Ruined. Had he really done that much damage?
"The SurGENS have said that the chances of his face making a full recovery are slim, but we won't know until the wounds have healed fully. I hope you realize what you did tonight Luigi." Rotti spoke, his baritone filling Luigi with guilt.
"Yes Pop."
And with that, Rottissimo left the room to check on Carmela, having had enough of the current situation. He'd done his bit for his son and now Luigi had been left to his own devices. Damn.
Luigi shuffled the chair his father had been sat on closer to the bed and slumped into it.
"Listen, you pansy," Luigi's affection didn't stretch much beyond this, "I fucked up. I know, I fucked you up… I know. And I'm sorry."
Luigi paused, having he thought that after apologizing the heavy guilt resting on his shoulders would have subsided. But it hadn't. He grunted. Bastard emotions.
"You deserve things sometimes, you know? You shouldn't be so pissing annoying! But you're my little brother and you're annoying because of that… and I should look after you."
The guilt got lighter.
"And even though you're an idiot who's always getting in my way, I love you. Even though you are a useless waste of space."
And, from under all the bandages and gauze, a young Paviche smiled in his sleep.