A/N: I going to take to this chapter to focus on a character I never really focused on too much. This character has had some appearances in the story, I will say. The only thing that has really been said and shown is their actions, but never really describing who this person is in dept.

Resha04: It had to come to this- I had no choice! But for your questions, as much as I want to answer them I can't. Again that would be revealing too much too quickly. But I will say this: Never cross a Vargas. No matter what.

Lullaby of My Heart

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

How much longer will death take?

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

A swift grip; the bones will break

Take the knife into your hands

Slit your wrists, a crimson lake

Blood. My finger slid the page across with a thin red line trailing behind. I had nicked my finger at the corner of the paper a moment before. It didn't seem like a regular paper cut, but a little deeper. The dark liquid had dripped out in a slow, steady stream rather than closing up with a single wipe. It didn't hurt or sting either. There was just this numb feeling in my finger, but I still so fascinated with it at the time.

Something about it just sparked my interest. The smell, the color- everything. The smell was heavy and metallic as it filled the air. It brought my senses alive; a feeling that I never experienced before. But the color was the best part. It was a deep shade of maroon that had its own hues of light and dark that contrasted with the original shade. It was so pretty.

"Feli!" I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder. His hazy figure peered over me, coming clearer as I slowly came out of my dazed state. I could hear him talking time, but the words were muffled and I couldn't understand a thing he said.

All I did was stare as he spoke. I outlined and studied every feature on his face. A frown that made his lips curl downward, forehead creased with worry lines, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, and his eyes held a sense of worry in them. I wondered why.

Before I knew it I was forced to my feet and being dragged by a firm grip on my wrist. He led me out of my room and down the hall. We walked into the bathroom and he ushered me to sit on top of the toilet. My legs swung back and forth as I watched as he began to open the cabinets. Quickly growing disinterested with him, I gazed upon my finger watching as the last few drops of blood dripped out.

I turned my head when a heard him wince. Biting his lip, a pained expression made his way to his features. In his left hand he held a now crumpled small box. His right hand, however, was pulled up to his chest and stained with blood. He had cut himself with the sharp, jagged edge of the countertop.

He sent me a weak smile, trying to mask his pain. He then stated, "I guess we both had got hurt today."

But I didn't listen. All I did was stare at his hand like I was trapped in some hypnotic trance. The only thing I could think of was beautiful. The color was so different from mind or any I had seen. It was pure crimson. Its beauty didn't seem to falter even when the blood on the counter's edge began to dry. It stayed that same color instead of turning that disgusting shade of brown. Moreover, the smell was just so intoxicating. It filled my lungs and completely dulled my senses. And it felt absolutely wonderful.

But all good things must come to an end. Frowning a bit, I watched as he placed a band aid over his cut. I wanted to see more. More of that beautiful blood, but he just had to cover it up. He then grabbed my hand and wrapped my finger up in one of those evil little repressors.

He ruffled my hair and said, "Cheer up, Feli. I'm fine. We'll both be as good as new by tomorrow." All I could in return was smile because after all fratellone does know best.

Even as I think about it now, I think of all the people I've tortured, killed, and slaughtered. Their colors ranged from carmine to dark raspberry and their smells metallic to the pure stench of death, but ironically the feeling I got was always the same. I'd come alive, but nothing like how did that day. Truly, there is no blood like fratellone's. None at all.

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

Agony is filling me

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

With a noose, be done in thirty

Hold your head under the water

Fill your lungs for all to see

That look in her eyes used to kill me. It used to hurt. It used to burn me down to my very core and twist up my heart until there was no life like left in. But after a while, I finally learned to ignore. I learned to look past it. I learned to hate it.

From a very young age, I always knew that there was something different about me when it came to Katerina. The way she talked to me, looked at me, and act towards me was always different. As if she was holding back some great pain that weighed down so heavily on her heart.

Her voice held a sense of uncertainty when she spoke with me. There would be a void of true emotion with her overly sweet tone and fake smiles. The praise she gave me seemed dulled and scared as if something terrible would happen if she didn't do it.

The way she acted was quite odd to me when I was younger too, but it became pretty clear as I got older. Katerina never hit me or yelled at me as a child. Some might say that was a wonderful thing for me, but it was horrible. She just let things pass or act like it never happened. For example, I would purposely push a glass off the counter right in front of her and she would act like it was an accident. "It's alright, Feli", she'd say. "I know you didn't mean it."

She also didn't touch me. Katerina would give me a quick pat on the head, peck on the cheek or hug. What she didn't do was hold on to me like a normal mother would do. A normal mother would try to smother their child with 100 % of their affection. Well, it always seemed to me that I got the lesser half of Katerina's love that I shared with Fratellone, but Papa always made up for it in the end.

Katerina's eyes had always revealed the truth to me. They were full of hesitant love and fear, but never pride. Never the true happiness that I wanted her to show me. That was saved for Fratellone. Her eyes shined with so much pride when she looked upon my brother. She saw so much more in him than she did me and I completely resented her for that.

I know she tried. Katerina really did, but in, my opinion, not hard enough. Sometimes I like to believe that she loved me as much as she did Fratellone, but in the end it's a terrible lie that I've told myself numerous times. It'd impossible for her to do such a thing since I am my father's flesh and blood.

But in the end, I don't need her. To be honest, I'm glad she's dead. Papa loves Feli. Feli loves Papa. That's all that matters. Nothing else should.

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

Murder beauty and passion

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

Point your gun in the devil's fashion

Bind me with your ropes and chains

Feeling your sick compulsion

It was my thirteen birthday when the incident happened. That day changed my life forever… maybe for the better.

I fell to my knees as my breathing became more ragged with each breath I took. It felt like my lungs threatened to collapse. My body slacked and my head lowered to the ground. Trembling, my body shook, but not as my hands. For in my hands was a small gun.

I didn't want to do it. I really didn't. Hell, the was no way I could do it.

The barrel of a gun was placed against the back of skull and I immediately stiffen. Sweat dripped down my neck and I tighten my grip on the gun. My eyes widen while my pulse skyrockets. Holding my breath, I waited for the shot to be fired.

However, instead of a shot being fired a harsh voice assaulted my ears. "What do you think you're doing, Feliciano?"

He wasn't angry, but definitely irritated. I could tell. I've always been able to. Yet, I kept my mouth shut and didn't a utter a word to respond to him. As if defiance would me now.

His voice dropped to a low growl. "Answer me."

I didn't dare turn my head towards him. He would see the fear in my eyes. That would not only disappoint him but also anger him. And that's the one thing he's never shown me. He always told me to be better than him and learn to control them. The one and only thing I was suppose to keep under lock and key- my emotions.

He violently yanked the back of my shirt, roughly pulling me to my feet. He pushed me forward and stated, "Do it."

Taking a few steps forward, I walked slowly and held the pistol loosely in my hand. Hardening my expression, I crouched down and set it aside. My hands moved to the little girl's limbs as I held her in place.

As she struggled I saw her eyes dart around, trying to sort out where she was and why she was here. They finally stopped and focused their attention on me. She had stopped moving completely and then asked quietly, "What did I do? Rosa is nice- and good! Where's Papa? Where's Mama? Where am I? Who are you?" I expected she'd be like this, being a small child after all.

When she noticed that I wasn't answering her she stared. In return, all I was pick up the pistol. When I faced her again a small gasped escaped me. This was something I had never in any of my victims before. What I saw in her was pure innocence, not a single corrupt thought or action had tainted them.

Pushing back every shred of hesitation, I pushed the gun against her temple. My hand was placed over her eyes as tears began to leak out of them. Placing my finger on the trigger, I whispered to her softly, "Forgive me, Rosaria."

I fired and the test was over.

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

How much longer will death take?

Goodbye Mama, goodbye Papa

A swift grip; his bones will break

I'll take the knife into my hands

And paint him with his crimson lake

"You have one month to do as you please with Diavolo, then you will kill him. If you do a good job, I might even let you have some more fun with Innocenzio. Understand, Feli?"

I nodded. "Yes, Papa." A sinister smile graced my features as I turned to leave. I walked through the halls humming that same old tune. "Goodbye…"

A/N: And there we go. Sorry no Lovi, Toni or Cara in this chapter. Also I am glad that I made up a poem to go with Feli's personality. I am officially naming it Feliciano's Lullaby- (partly) hence the chapter name. Oh, and happy Thanksgiving for all my American viewers.