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There was not a cold breeze to be found in the room, if anything it was the record for the hottest day of summer this year in Greed. It made the wastage reek and the heat from the piles of burning tires only added to the unforgiving heat.
Yet Moxxie still shivered in his seat. He sat, staring emotionless at the door across from him. The imp wished his feet would pick up running and he’d make it out the door, down the street and finally away from it all. He knew this was nothing more than a fantasy and for today he would have to face his father’s wrath for failing a job ‘even hellhounds could do’ (in his father’s words).
He flinched when the door opened quickly but with grace, Moxxie knew it would be Alessio, his father’s bodyguard. The tall shark towered over him with his arms crossed. Moxxie trailed his eyes upwards, meeting the shark’s gaze. Alessio was known for one hell of a poker face but now he seemed almost sad for the imp. Moxxie looked at him, his eyes huge with regret but the imp was wise enough to not show tears. “Crimson is ready to see you now, Moxxie,” Alessio spoke as soft as his husky voice could go.
The imp swallowed, biting his tongue but managing a nod. Alessio watched the boy, barely a man, enter the room as small as a mouse. He kept the door open as long as he could before having to shut it behind him, secretly hoping Crimson would go easy on his son.
A long table stretched across the room, more so now Moxxie thought, his vision blurring and warping as he met his father’s eyes. He seemed to forget how to breathe, he gulped in the air but nothing satiated the tightness in his throat.
He approached his father’s seat, at the head of the table, with the caution of someone handling radioactive substances. Moxxie blinked, hands uniformly by his side but his posture slouched with head hanging. Crimson scowled.
“At least look at me, you fucking disgrace.” The don demanded, slamming his fist onto the mahogany below. Moxxie was so startled, that he shrunk in on himself defensively, biting back tears.
“I’m sorry Dad, sir. I really am!” He pleaded, clasping his arms together in a self-soothing manner.
“Sorry ain’t gonna get me my money, is it Mox?” Crimson snarled, leaving his seat to Moxxie’s despair. “If it was anyone else I’d have ‘em squirmin’ at the bottom of the fuckin’ lake!” He backhanded Moxxie’s chest, it didn’t hurt much but the imp flinched.
“I can do another job, sir. Anything to make up for it.” Moxxie begged, hoping for his request to be refused but for his father to calm down. The don sighed, shaking his head.
“Look at you, ya think you’re worthy for a job, kid? I wouldn’t leave you in charge of watching paint dry” Crimson threw his hand out in exasperation, seeing Moxxie flinch under the sudden movements. “You’d find a way to fuck that up, the way you do everything I leave you in charge of” he spat, hatefully.
Moxxie fought back tears, he never wanted the job in the first place but for some peculiar reason, he found himself disappointed in himself. His vision suddenly blurred, tears involuntarily flooding his eyes. He blinked rapidly, sniffing them back though he was too slow and Crimson noticed. He curled his lip in disgust.
“You can’t be fuckin’ serious, Mox.” Crimson laughed dryly, standing from his seat. “You fuck up the job, lose my money and you’re the one cryin’?” He gripped his son’s shoulders, forcing the imp to look at him. His father was not much taller than him but he felt small under his touch as he continued to shrink.
Moxxie suddenly sobbed, bursting into involuntary tears. “I’m sorry-“ he spoke, having the wind beat out of him as a backhand met his cheek and the side of his neck. The imp kept his face to the side, trying to catch his shaking breath. He stood shocked but alert.
“Save your sorry-ies,” Crimson growled, rubbing his knuckles. “And quit crying like a fag!” He leaned forward with his hand ready again, Moxxie fell to the floor his own hands waving defensively in front of his face.
“Please, Dad!” He cried, wiping his drooling mouth with his sleeve. Crimson snarled and glared with such a look of utter disappointment that he’d never seen before. His stomach churned and if he’d eaten, he was sure he would have been sick. His plea fell on deaf ears as Crimson stepped forward, too quickly for Moxxie to move back.
He threw his leg back and swung it into Moxxie’s ribs on his right side.
The imp retched, too stunned to even cry anymore. He writhed on the floor, the prickly carpet at his cheek as he curled in on himself like that would get the pain to stop. Moxxie let out of yell of pain, trying his damndest to catch his breath.
Crimson watched, barely containing a smile. That little brat was wrapped around his finger now. He leaned over, grinning down at his son. “You see what happens when you let me down, kid?”
Moxxie’s glassy eyes stared back up, his mouth saying nothing as drool ran down his chin. His face was smeared with tear stains, running little paths down his face. He looked like a child but that didn’t deter Crimson, he reached down and grabbed a fistful of Moxxie’s white locks and pulled him to his feet.
His scalp burned so he quickly complied. Crimson brought his face to Moxxie’s. The imp could smell the cigar on his breath and feel the heat of rage on him. “You want to act like a child, I’ll fuckin’ treat you like one. Get to bed Moxxie” he threw his son backwards, Moxxie barely managed to stay on his feet but made for the door quickly. He stumbled but was out the door hastily.
His breath was ragged as the pain in his ribs flared. He shuffled wordlessly past Alessio who didn’t quite meet his eye and made his way up the stairs and then finally into the sanctuary of his room. He made sure to not slam the door before he made his way over to his bed. His injured rib slipped his mind as he sunk into the mattress only to be cruelly reminded as sparks of agony flew up his chest. Moxxie yelled in pain and sobbed in defeat as he quickly turned over on his back.
“I can’t do this no more” he spoke out loud, tears watering his face. He brought his arms up and held them against his eyes, blinding himself of the hell house he lived in. He stayed still like a statue and cried quietly, a skill he’d obtained from many a ‘disciplinary’. His father and his damned rules.
Moxxie sobbed some more, thinking of ways he could leave the house and never return but knowing his father controlled his finances and had around-the-clock surveillance he knew it would be impossible… unless he…
The imp couldn’t give things much thought before he fell asleep, his breath ragged from his injuries but at least he’d be away for a little while.
“May I take your plate, sir?” The maid asked, stood cordially at the dining room door, her hands firmly behind her back and a straightened posture. Crimson took a moment to respond.
“Isn’t Moxxie coming down for dinner?” He replied, staring at the empty spaces, he hated having dinner on his own. He finished his wine, seeing the maid shake her head. He clicked his tongue, swallowing his disappointment. “Whatever, he can starve for the night then.” Crimson threw his chair back, leaving the maid’s previous question unanswered but she collected Crimson’s plate anyway. The Don hated a messy house. She remained quiet, watching his movements. Now would not be the night to mess up. He walked past her, stopping at the dining room door without turning to her, he said “I’ll be having an early night so do what you need to do and get off early if you need to.”
She smiled appreciatively, being her head. “I will do sir, thank you.” A perk of her boss’ bad mood was an early home time.
Crimson passed Alessio who was doing his nightly rounds, the shark had passed Moxxie’s room and saw the imp sleeping. He noticed the little one shaking and so as if he were a child he pulled the blanket over him. A pang of guilt struck him as he looked over his face, still saddened even in sleep. Reluctantly, he continued to do what he does best, his job. He caught Crimson in the hallway, his lips shut tight and to his surprise, Crimson didn’t strike up a conversation or ask him to join him for a smoke. He watched The Don walk right past him and entered his room at the end of the hallway.
The shark shrugged, leaving to check downstairs before he could finally leave altogether.
Meanwhile Crimson was quickly ready for bed, he splashed water from the basin onto his face. He ran his hands down his face and sighed. He was losing patience in his old age and it wasn’t his fault Moxxie got on his nerves. It was teaching the kid a lesson, that was all. It's how his father treated him and his father’s father treated his own son. You had to be tough in this world, especially as an imp, Moxxie was just too soft. Or at least that’s what helped Crimson sleep at night, he repeated these things when an even a thought of regret tugged at his heart. He drifted asleep, laying on his back with his hands at his sides. The position would make it easy for Crimson to access the gun that resided in his bedside drawer in case of a break-in.
Only Crimson was awoken by an intruder soon after. He felt a body atop him, legs pinning his arms down. His first sleep-dazed thought was sleep paralysis but cold metal meeting his forehead shook him from his slumber, he was stone-cold awake now and aware someone had clicked the lamp on. It illuminated the intruder who when he looked past the barrel of the gun, he recognised as… Moxxie.
Moxxie shifted, swallowing as he aimed his father’s own gun square in his face. Crimson could see straight down the barrel and heard the haunting click as Moxxie pulled the hammer back. He listened to Moxxie’s breath, it was shaky but with anger. “Mox.. let’s talk about this…” Crimson reasoned, attempting to move his arms only they were trapped under the imp’s knees. The struggle seemed to trigger Moxxie who without words threatened to pull the trigger. “Come on son, you wouldn’t do this to your old man would you?” Crimson pined, seeing his son tear up and shaking his head. He held back a smile as he believed to be getting somewhere. If he wasn’t at the receiving end he would be impressed.
The smile wasn’t hidden well enough as Moxxie suddenly flew into a rage. “No!” He waved the gun, the trigger clicking as the imp put further weight on it. Crimson shushed the boy, struggling more. “You don’t get to play your games with me anymore!” Moxxie sobbed, seeing Crimson’s face. He met his eyes, seeing a softness he’d never quite seen before. The imp almost wanted to put the weapon down.
“Just put the gun down… we can talk this through,” Crimson said. Moxxie listened, stewing for just a moment but keeping the gun at Crimson’s head though his stance weakened.
“You say that but you never talk” Moxxie whispered, choking on his own sobs. “Why can’t you just be good?”
Crimson, though he was a master manipulator, didn’t have an answer to give his son. Instead, he used his son’s weakened state to wrestle an arm free and snatched Moxxie’s arm up. The imp, in surprise, pulled the trigger, the gun shooting a bullet into the pillow just inches away from Crimson’s face.
“FUCK!” Crimson exclaimed, throwing Moxxie off of him. The imp panted, dropping the gun onto the sheets below. He kicked backwards, away from his father and curled inwards, still crying. “What the fuck were you thinking?” The Don demanded, earning no answer. “Satan’s sake Mox… I didn’t know you had it in you.” Crimson caught his breath, he tried catching Moxxie’s eyes but couldn’t meet them.
He softened as he caught his breath, crawling over to Moxxie. He sat next to his son, bringing him closer to him by his shoulder. He kissed Moxxie’s wet cheek, hugging his son tightly. The body in his arms shook, accepting his father’s embrace. It felt like he was holding a child again, his child. He shook his head and laughed at the ridiculous situation.
“You did good there, kid.” Crimson chuckled, seeing Moxxie relax. “I’m real proud of you.”