Chapter Four: LATER
Luigi's head was throbbing, and his vision was too blurry. While he couldn't piece together his last few hours of consciousness, Luigi's mind was already processing what had knocked him out: That fucking Paviche.
Luigi cleared his throat, trying to figure out where he was. Straight ahead of him sat a full-length mirror that reflected Luigi sitting in a wooden chair. Someone was walking up behind him, but a layer of dust and grime, together with the shadows behind him, prevented Luigi from figuring out who it was. Someone had taken the time to wipe away a single streak of the dust-buildup to show Luigi his face, which clearly had shards of Pavi's hand-mirror stuck in it.
Luigi struggled to turn around before realizing that his hands had been shackled to the armrests. "Pavi, if you even think of trying this again, I'm going to rip that fucking face off you and make you choke on it, you stupid little-"
"Luigi!" Rotti stepped out of the shadows and stared at Luigi through the reflection, silencing his eldest immediately. Putting his hands on Luigi's shoulders, Rotti let out an (Exaggerated, Luigi thought) sigh.
"Pop! What the fuck is this?! Pavi put you up to this or somethin'?"
"Luigi, settle down. We need to talk, and I can't have you storming off or stabbing me!" Rotti screamed, bending down over Luigi's shoulder to shout in his ear. Luigi retaliated by yanking harder on the chains and shackles that bound him to the chair.
After a few deep, agitated breaths, Luigi stopped. "Pop, you've got your oldest and most reliable son chained to a fucking-" he paused, rethinking his words, "chained to a chair in the attic. What the hell?"
"Believe me, Luigi, it saddens me to think that I must protect myself from my own son, but I do. Now, you are going to stop, and you are going to listen."
"The hell I will!" Luigi attempted to stand and rip the shackles away yet again, but Rotti swiftly swung around to face him and delivered a backhand that toppled Luigi back into his seat. Rotti, as if it were nothing, began picking out the individual shards of mirror that had been transferred from his son's face and into the back of his hand.
"Luigi Largo, you will listen. Maybe not now, but if I have to leave you up here for a week before you stop fighting me, so help me God, I will. And believe me when I say that nobody knows where you are. Do you know why I'm doing this, Luigi?" Rotti leaned in to face Luigi.
"'Cause you're fucking nuts, and you seem to fucking hate me!" Luigi spat in his father's face.
"No, my dear boy, because I have faith in you that you will learn," Rotti explained. He then turned away from Luigi and left the attic, closing the trapdoor on the way out. Luigi screamed and fought, but nothing came of it. As he sat in the darkness, no longer able to see anything but the faint shimmer of his own reflection that was disappearing as the sun in the skylight sank, Luigi was greeted by a new noise. Cockroaches. Some company for the week.