Where Am I?
Matteo De Cannio's eyes flickered open, the stark white ceiling above him a glaring contrast to the dim alleys he had last walked.
His body felt heavy, a dull ache throbbing in his chest and limbs. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nose, mingling with the rhythmic beeping of monitors.
He squinted against the fluorescent light, his mind clawing for answers. Where am I?
Memories surged forward like a violent tide. The dirty streets of Naples. The cold, hard stares of strangers. The police sirens blaring behind him. A shot fired, the sensation of cold pavement against his cheek. Matteo sucked in a sharp breath, his chest tightening.
He wasn't supposed to be alive.
With great effort, he turned his head to the side, taking in the sight of a modest hospital room. Machines beeped steadily next to his bed, their wires connected to his arms. A window to his left revealed an unfamiliar to him, shrouded in early morning fog. This wasn't Italy.
Before he could fully process his surroundings, the door creaked open, and a nurse stepped inside. Her kind smile did little to calm the storm raging inside him.
"Good morning, Matteo," she greeted, her voice soft but professional. "How are you feeling today?" She asked.
Matteo's throat felt like sandpaper, his voice barely a croak. "Where...where am I?"
The nurse's smile faltered momentarily, replaced by a flicker of unease. "You're in London. You were brought here after sustaining severe injuries."
London? The word felt foreign on his tongue. He hadn't left Italy—he couldn't have. Yet here he was, thousands of kilometers away from the streets he knew so well.
"How…how did I get here?" he managed, his voice trembling.
The nurse hesitated before answering, a hint of pity in her eyes. "You were found unconscious and in critical condition. The details are unclear, but you're safe now."
Safe? Matteo's heart pounded against his ribs. The word felt hollow, meaningless. He wasn't safe, not as long as his stepmother, Lily, was out there. She would find him. She always found him.
"I need to leave," he muttered, trying to sit up. Pain exploded through his side, forcing him back down.
The nurse placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him to stay put. "You need rest, Matteo. You've been through a lot. Please, trust us to take care of you."
Trust? Matteo clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The last person he'd trusted had sold him out to Lily. No one could be trusted.
The nurse busied herself checking his vitals, but Matteo's gaze drifted to the window. A question gnawed at him, one he couldn't shake: Why am I alive?
As the nurse prepared to leave, she turned back to him. "If you need anything, just press the button by your bed. Someone will come."
Matteo nodded absently, his thoughts elsewhere.
The room fell silent once the door closed, the beeping of machines the only sound. Matteo stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. His memories were fragmented, pieces of a shattered puzzle. But one thing stood out clearly: the sound of a voice, calm and otherworldly, echoing in his mind.
"You are not done yet, Matteo. There is much to be done."
The memory sent chills down his spine. Who—or what—had spoken to him?
Suddenly, a faint hum filled the room, low and rhythmic. Matteo's eyes darted around, his pulse quickening. A strange warmth radiated from his chest, growing stronger with each passing second.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered.
As if in answer, a screen materialized in front of him, translucent and glowing faintly.
Welcome, Matteo De Cannio. The System has been activated.
Matteo's breath caught in his throat. A system? What was this? Some kind of hallucination?
The words shifted on the screen, forming a new message.
You have been granted a second chance. Wealth, power, and revenge are now within your reach. Complete the assigned missions to unlock your full potential.
He blinked, his heart hammering in his chest. This couldn't be real. And yet, the sensation in his chest—the warmth, the energy—felt undeniably real.
Before he could process the message further, the door creaked open again. This time, it wasn't the nurse.
A man in a dark suit stepped inside, his features sharp and his expression unreadable. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Matteo with intensity.
"Matteo De Cannio," the man said, his voice low and deliberate. "It's good to see you awake."
Matteo's body tensed. "Who are you?"
The man smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "A friend. I'm here to help you...if you'll let me."
Matteo narrowed his eyes. "Help me? With what?"
The man stepped closer, his presence commanding.
"Revenge." He said.
The single word hung in the air, heavy with promise. Matteo's heart raced. This man knew. He knew about Lily, about the pain she'd inflicted, about the life Matteo had lost.
"How do you know about me?" Matteo demanded, his voice rising.
The man's smile widened. "Let's just say...we have a mutual interest in seeing justice served. But time is short, Matteo. If you want to survive, you'll need to trust me."
Trust. The word felt like poison on Matteo's tongue. But before he could respond, the man leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"She knows you're alive. And she's coming for you."
Matteo's blood turned to ice. Lily.
"Who are you?" Matteo demanded again, his voice shaking.
The man straightened. "Someone who believes in second chances. I'll be in touch."
Before Matteo could say another word, the man turned and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Matteo stared after him, his mind racing. Who was that man? How did he know about Lily? And what did he mean by "second chances"?
As he sat there, a shadow flickered in the corner of the room. Matteo's eyes darted to the movement, his breath hitching.
"Who's there?" he called, his voice trembling.
Silence.
But then, from no where, a figure emerged—tall and cloaked in darkness, its eyes glowing faintly red.
"Matteo," the figure said, its voice deep and resonant. "Your time has come."
The room seemed to grow colder, the air thick with tension. Matteo's heart pounded as he stared at the figure, his hands clutching the bedsheets.
"What do you want?" he whispered.
The figure stepped closer, a sinister grin spreading across its face. "To help you...become who you were meant to be."
And with that, the figure disappeared, leaving Matteo alone in the hospital room, his mind reeling with questions.
Who was that? What was happening to him? And what would he do when Lily finally found him?
The answers would come, but they wouldn't be easy. Matteo's journey was just beginning, and the road ahead was shrouded in darkness.