Chapter 4- A New Kind of Fear
Romano awoke to an unknown ceiling with a beautiful fresco portraying the heavens. He sat up slowly not remembering where he was, how he got there or what had happened. He looked around finding that he was in a rather extravagant room. The floors made up of a dark chestnut wood upon which a large, plush off-white carpet lay. The walls were covered in a wall paper decorated with small white and gold designs that only added to the beauty of the fresco.
There was a long, dark wood dresser across from the bed with a white vase full of red roses and a gold framed mirror hanging above it. There were two white Victorian chairs with a small gold pillow sitting in each on opposite ends of large, fully stocked bookcase made of the same wood as the dresser. A small but still extravagant gold chandelier hung in the center of the room providing it with more than enough light. Never had he been in such a gorgeous room, his room at home was plain with nothing but a bed and a dresser to fill it.
"Where the hell am I?" Romano asked himself. He tried to remember what had happened but found that the last thing he remembered was standing outside of Night Wave talking to Elizaveta about Arthur. What happened after that though?
Unsure and honestly a bit afraid, Romano ventured out of the room in search of answers. He walked down a long hallway of dark gold wallpaper and red carpet until he was met the sound of people talking. The Italian froze in fear like a scared animal at the sound of a predator.
"So what did you do with the body?" He heard someone ask, he assumed the person was French due to the thick accent he spoke with.
"I left it there, the cops will just brush it off like they always do. Besides they can't tie it back to us," another man answered, this one had a thick accent as well but it was certainly not French, it was more like a German accent.
Romano backed up slowly as the voices grew closer. They were coming his way!
"That's true but it's still dangerous, mon ami," the Frenchman replied, a lot closer this time.
"You're just jealous that the awesome me can get away with it and you can't!" the German stated with a snort.
They were close, too close. Panic began to rise in Romano's chest as he heard the footsteps. He looked around, desperate for a place to hide but there was none. He decided that returning to the room he awoke in would be the safest bet and turned to do just that when he lost his footing and tripped.
"Fuck!" the Italian hissed having skinned his elbow on the crimson rug.
"Ohonhonhon, what do we have here? A little Italian trying to escape?" The blonde Parisian said with a laugh as he stopped in front of Romano, the German to his left.
Romano swallowed hard as he looked up at the two. He found his mind flooded with memories as he recognized the silver haired German. He remembered the man who had been merely seconds away from killing him. He remembered the way his heart raced and felt like it was going to burst. How his body refused to move despite his efforts and how his mind went blank at the realization that he would be killed. He also remembered the man standing outside of the car with silver hair and crimson red eyes that matched the color of the blood which splattered everywhere when the man pulled the trigger of his gun.
"I-it's you!" Romano pointed, quickly scooting back across the rug to get some distance between them.
"A thank you would be nice! If it wasn't for the awesome me, you would have made the tenth dead whore dumped in some alley," the man snorted taking out a cigarette and lighting it. The blonde took it from him, taking a long drag off of it before giving it back, receiving a dark glare from its owner. "Bitch," the man mumbled taking a drag.
"I'm Francis, this is Gilbert," said the Parisian with a smile, holding his hand out for the Italian to take but Romano refused.
"Y-you killed him, didn't you?"
"What makes you think that?" Gilbert asked with a slightly amused smile.
"I saw you shoot him a-and I heard you talking about t-the body.." Romano confessed before realizing that he shouldn't have told them how much he knew.
"Well, it appears we have a witness that doesn't know how to stay quiet," Gilbert announced casting Francis a glance them smiling darkly at Romano. "We can't have people running around telling everyone what happened can we?" he chuckled reaching for the knife he always carried. Romano's heart began to race like it did in the car. Would they kill him too?
"Mon ami, I'll make you a deal," Francis said hooking his finger under Romano's chin with a smile.
"W-what?"
"I'll make sure that Gilly here doesn't cut your throat if you swear you won't tell anyone what you saw tonight. Just got about your daily life like nothing ever happened. If you don't do that then I can guarantee that we will find you and kill everyone you love. Do we have a deal?" Francis asked, his smile more sinister now. Romano nodded, eyes wide and body shaking.
Why did they bring me here if they wanted me to stay quiet? Why didn't they just kill me too?
"Great!" Francis cheered.
"You're lucky kid, I've been itching to carve into someone," Gilbert confessed putting his knife away with slight disappointment.
"W-why am I here?" Romano asked his voice more shaky that he'd like.
"To be honest, we're not sure. The order was to kill the Turk. and bring you back," Francis answered honestly. Romano's eyes went wider and his chest tightened.
"What are you guys, part of the mafia or something?" Romano asked standing up against the golden wall. Gilbert and Francis exchanged a look that confirmed Romano's theory, filling his body with a fear which he had never experienced before. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
