Flavius strode toward the truck full of soldiers, his every step purposeful. Upon seeing him, the men on board quickly ceased their idle chatter and saluted. The man in command of this group of Legio Proletariani hurriedly ended a phone conversion and raced toward the spot where Flavius had stopped beside the truck.
"Flavius!" The commander called out. "Decimus has been slain!" His voice was a mixture of anger and sorrow.
"I beg your pardon?" Flavius asked incredulously.
"Some contemptible Patrician thugs attacked him an alley and beat him to death." The commander turned to his men. "This will neither be forgiven nor forgotten! We will exterminate these effeminate oxygen wasters like the vermin they are." His men let out a roar of approval that had a slight tinge of blood-lust, as they raised their rifles above their heads. The commander turned back toward a stunned Flavius. "So, Centurion, what are your orders."
"We proceed on with our mission as planned. However in the cities we need to take great steps to enhance security." Flavius gestured toward the commanders phone. "Get on that thing and get every unit you can out and patrolling. We need to protect important NRF personnel as well as taking reprisals against anyone who so much as looks like they don't belong amongst the Plebs. When we're finished with this attack today, I'll head back to the local government offices and see what can be done on their end." Flavius walked over and leaped onto the back of the truck, and then helped the commander as he followed him. "Comrades, to arms!" Flavius banged on the roof of the truck which caused the engine to start, and Flavius took a seat just before the vehicle violently jolted, before gently driving off.
After around ten minutes of driving the truck came to a stop outside a large private estate. The men on board jumped down without the need for an order and raced onto the property like legionnaires charging a line of barbarians. Flavius calmly exited the truck and followed. The commander stayed aboard the truck, organising things on his phone. Inside the property the private security was quickly dispatched. As most of them were Plebeians themselves and likely supported the NRF, they offered no resistance, dropping their weapons and walking away. Those who did not were bayoneted viciously. After walking through a wheat field Flavius eventually came to a very large house that seemed to be dripping in wealth and opulence. On the front lawn, several people were kneeling as the soldiers pressed their rifles into the back of their heads and ordered them to stay down. As Flavius approached a soldier stormily grabbed a man who had been kneeling and dragged him over.
"This is the owner." The soldier said before spitting at the man.
"This is now Plebeian land." Flavius announced assuredly as he locked eyes with the Patrician scum. "You wil.."
"Fuck you! You fucking peasant." The patrician shot back defiantly before Flavius could continue. The soldier smashed the side of the man's face with his rifle butt, drawing blood.
"Fuck me?" Flavius looked around with a look of humour. "Very interesting." Flavius walked over to the kneeling group. There were two women and two children. Flavius walked over to one of the women and pulled out his pistol. He pointed it at the woman on the far end, who was staring emptily at the ground. "Who are you?" Flavius demanded. The woman slowly stared up at Flavius with a look of terror.
"She's the maid." The other woman said.
"And you are?" Flavius asked as he turned slightly toward the other one.
"The wife." Flavius glanced slightly at her, before turning back to look at her husband. As he locked eyes with him, he suddenly pulled the trigger on his pistol and let out a violent stinging shot that echoed sickeningly. The man let out a yelp of horror as his wife now lay lifeless with her head split apart. Flavius walked over to the children.
"Please no!" Before the man could finish Flavius emptied several more rounds. Flavius pointed at the maid.
"Get out unless you want to suffer a similar fate." The maid hesitantly pulled herself up and walked briskly away, her legs clearly trembling. Flavius now walked back toward the patrician who was weeping uncontrollably. As he saw the boots of Flavius coming toward him and then the gun pointed at him he seemed to become resigned to his fate as he closed his eyes. "For you, death by gunshot would be too honourable." Flavius sneered. A group of soldiers now appeared carrying a crucifix which caused the patricians eyes to widen in fear. Before he could say anything soldiers appeared beside him and dragged him up and onto the wooden cross, and then others held him down as nails were driven into his hands and feet. Each blow of the hammer drew a blood curdling scream until finally the last nail was in place and the crucifix was raised.