2The cool voice was once more speaking in Feliciano's head. What if I were to slice him up with my knife? He wouldn't talk so freely with his tongue cut out.
Feliciano closed his eyes. He hated when the voice said these things. It made him so scared and sad to think he could possibly think such a thing up. No, Mr. BossMan is actually really nice. He's probably just having a rough day.
A rough day. I would sure love to see how his day is going when he is beneath my boot pleading for his life. Seeing the fear in this man's eyes would be a beautiful sight.
Feliciano was glad Lovino wasn't there that day as well. It was bad enough to have the sinister voice making such terrifying comments without his brother yelling at their boss as well. Feliciano would much rather Lovino be here instead of this frightening voice that visited so often these days, though. Italy had been under such stress lately, it was no surprise this other side of Feliciano wanted to be let out.
This man is not bad. Ludwig would have known a long time ago if he was. He would have told me if I needed to worry about Mr. BossMan.
The fury in the other voice made Feliciano flinch. Ludwig!? Aren't you tired of always relying on him for help? Don't you ever want to do anything on your own? You're too weak without his help, is that it? Feliciano, we must cut everything. We will chop this man's fingers off one by one and delight in his screams. We will strip of his own eyelids and make intricate cuts along his body worthy of our own Renaissance. Only then will he know who it is he's dealing with. No one will ever call us the 'weak nation' again.
While this other voice was filled with malice and anger, Feliciano himself felt like crying. The violence this other voice displayed, he didn't understand it. How could Feliciano fathom such a thing? How could these terrible thoughts enter his mind so easily? It seemed like all the voice wanted was violence and to hurt people. Feliciano never wanted to hurt anyone.
This was why, long ago, Feliciano had given this other voice a different name altogether. He had separated this voice from his own thoughts. It wasn't Feliciano, so why should they use the same name?
Feliciano used this name in a last attempt to tame these raging thoughts. Luciano, please, he's a citizen of Italy. He doesn't normally act like this. He's under stress because-
"ITALY, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?" His boss' voice interrupted his pleading thoughts.
And that was it. Without a split second to fight it, Feliciano felt as Luciano won.
In the aftermath, as Feliciano sat in a puddle of blood, so so much blood, Luciano spoke to him again.
Don't you see now, Feliciano? You are weak. But I can change that. He began cleaning his favorite knife that, ever since he had appeared to Feliciano, he had gotten the dimwit to carry in his belt. He had never gotten the chance before today to use it and felt content wiping the dripping blood from its polished blade.
"No," Feliciano replied out loud. He dropped the knife and covered his eyes with his blood caked hands. He had seen every second of Luciano's kill, felt every minute of him torturing and cutting and heard every scream the other man had made. "You killed him." He sobbed, only just realizing that he was getting even more blood on himself. He tried wiping his hands on his pants but the blood would not come off. Why wouldn't it come off?
That's how you get to be a stronger country. You kill people. You show no mercy and you take delight in every bit of it. If you show no weakness then you will have no weakness.
"No. No no no." Feliciano was shaking his head. Still sobbing, he choked out, "Killing people is not how you become stronger. I was strong during the Renaissance by just spreading art and ideas. The Pope has been strong for centuries by spreading religion. Our people have been strong since Italy was born by spreading their culture and language and love and compassion. Why should violence exist when the world has all of these beautiful things?"
You are weak-
"No. When people resort to violence they are weak. They are insecure and angry. You are right. I have been weak many times, I was weak just moments ago when I killed this man and I have been weak in the past when I have killed so many others. But all this time that has gone by without me giving in to you has made me stronger. The blood that stains these floors was the true weakness and I did all of it. No one else made me do it because, as much as I hate it, you are a part of me, Luciano. I will learn to control you. No, I will learn to control me.
Your name is not Luciano. It is Feliciano."
Hi! Just wanted to put in that Luciano's existence in Feli's head is purely metaphorical. I am aware there are disorders where people do not have control of their reality and actions at times and I just wanted to put in that this is not the case in this story. I don't know how this story happened, but there it is. Thank you all!