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thedeerman · 5 months

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Alastor's First Kill

This is an excerpt from the fic I've been writing, this scene is a flashback to Alastor's childhood. Contains blood, domestic violence, and child abuse.

“He’s not normal. He’s never been. There’s something seriously wrong with him and you know it. I should’ve gotten rid of him the day he was born.”

“Don’t you talk about my baby that way! He’s a smart, gentle child and maybe you would know that if you spent half a moment’s attention on him!”

“What’s the point? The fucker doesn’t talk! He doesn’t play with other kids, he’s got no friends! He’s got no interests, no ambitions, that thing has no redeeming qualities!”

“Now that is enough! You don’t know a damn thing about your own son and you sit here and blame him for it? That boy was a gift from God, and all I’ve done his entire life is try to keep him safe. Safe from this awful world, safe from the people that see him as a worthless bastard child because of what he is and where his mother’s from. And safe from you!”

“Shut your fucking mouth, you worthless bitch! It doesn’t matter what either of us do, he’s not right. If you can’t find some way to get rid of the useless little half-breed, I will.”

The boy slowly closed the door to his bedroom, wondering what it was that he did so wrong to upset his father like this. He’d done everything he was ever asked. He helped Momma around the house, he did as his father told him, he went to school and was graded well, he didn’t start fights. And he did have a friend, even if it wasn’t one of the other kids. So why-

The boy’s thoughts were interrupted by a crashing sound from the other side of the house. Jumping up from where he was seated on the floor, the boy opened the door a crack to listen again.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” His mother sounded scared, and that made him scared. He didn’t know what to do. Another crash could be heard from downstairs. He wanted to hide, but Momma wasn’t yelling anymore and suddenly everything went quiet.

The boy ran down the stairs from his bedroom into the kitchen below in a panic. His mother was on the floor, but she was slowly starting to get up. At least she wasn’t too hurt. When the child looked at his father, he could tell he was in trouble. He should’ve stayed in his room.

The man in front of him stared silently for a long moment as the boy’s mother stood from where she had been thrown to the floor. He smelled like the drinks that he kept in bottles on a high shelf. He was always angrier after drinking any of those.

Eventually, he turned and left the room without saying a word. The boy considered just going back to his bedroom, hoping his father would forget he was ever here. But his mother didn’t give him the chance.

She leaned down to his level as she often did when she said something very important. Her voice was shaky as she told him, “Honey, I need you to go get your shoes and coat, okay? Go put them on.”

The boy was confused, the sky was dark and it was far too late to be going outside. But the urgency in his mother’s voice told him this was something he’d better do without question.

By the time he’d put his coat and shoes on, the child’s father had returned. He was holding something, but the boy didn’t have a chance to take a look. His mother stood between the two as the man said, “Move.”

His mother started backing up slowly, keeping the boy behind her. She started being really nice to his father all of a sudden, saying “Honey, why don’t we talk about this in the morning? I’ll make you a nice breakfast, maybe some grits and eggs the way you like?”

But the man wasn’t convinced. He was slowly approaching them as they backed up, and soon the boy was sandwiched between his mother and the back door. “I’m warnin’ you,'' his father growled. “I’ll fucking kill you too, don’t you try me.”

The boy’s eyes went wide. Kill? Momma? Suddenly he was more scared than ever. More scared than when his father slammed his head into the wall and he bled from his nose all over the floor. More scared than when the man held his head under water for so long his lungs started to fill and his vision started to go black. Because every time his father got angry, it was his mother that saved him.

What happened next happened so fast the boy wasn’t sure which thing happened first. His mother grabbed her favorite vase from the shelf nearby. His father stepped closer. His mother hit him with the vase and glass exploded everywhere with a loud crash. He was shoved backwards hard enough to push the door open and tumble down the couple of steps outside and into the dirt. All at the same time.

Before the boy could pick himself back up, his mother had lifted him from the ground and started quickly moving him away from the house. There was a loud BANG, the boy knew that sound. It was a gun. His father had taken him on plenty of hunting trips, showing him how to track down things like deer without letting the animal know they were there. And earlier that summer, his father had taught him how to shoot squirrels in the backyard. The boy didn’t like it though, he didn’t see what the squirrels had done to deserve it.

There was another BANG as the boy’s mother dragged him behind the small shed behind the house. “Baby, listen. I need you to go to town, go find Auntie at her shop. Remember where it is?” The boy nodded. Auntie was one of Momma’s good friends and they went there often.

His mother spoke again, quickly and quietly. “Go through the back way, okay? Don’t go on the road, understand?”

He nodded again. He knew the rules, after the sun went down he and Momma weren’t allowed in town anymore. None of the people that looked like them were. Very bad things happened to people like them if they were seen in town at night.

The boy turned towards the back way his mother told him to take, but it was hard to see without any light. This way was mostly a swamp, but it was drier than usual this time of year so the thin trail along the edge was walkable without getting too wet. In the daytime, that was. Even with the brightness of the full moon overhead, the boy wasn’t sure he could follow the trail in the dark.

A sound like crunching twigs was slowly coming closer to where they were hiding behind the shed, and the boy had never been so afraid in his life. He didn’t want to leave his Momma like this. But as he looked up at her teary brown eyes, he could tell he needed to.

“You’ve gotta go. Now. Go quick. Just run away, baby. Just go. Please. Just run.”

The boy did as he was told, he ran to the trail in the swamp. But after hearing his mother scream, he stopped. He was scared, so scared. But he wasn’t as scared of his father as he was of losing his mother.

The boy may have been young, only having recently turned 8, but he wasn’t stupid, he knew that his mother was in trouble because of him. It was him his father wanted.

So the boy turned around and crept back closer to the light shining from the back of his house, trying to be fast but quiet. Just like hunting down the deer. When he got closer, he could see that his mother was on the ground. There was no visible blood, but the sight sent the boy into a panic. He rushed out from his hiding spot towards his mother, but he didn’t reach her.

Almost immediately after starting towards her, something grabbed his arm hard. It was his father. He’d been caught.

“This ends now. I never shoulda let her keep you. You were a mistake the moment you were born.” The boy’s eyes went wide at the sight of his father’s gun, the very one he had used to bring in squirrels for stew only months earlier. The grip on his arm was firm, but the man holding him was swaying back and forth. He was unsteady on his feet as he let go of the boy’s arm just long enough to grab him by the neck and lift him off the ground.

The child kicked his feet as his fingers tried to pry the hand off of his throat. His vision was getting spotty, just like the time he was held underwater. But his captor was off balance and when he finally landed a hard kick in the man's gut, he tumbled over. The man lost his grip on the boy as he fell, and the child didn’t take any time recovering before he snatched the gun out of his father’s other hand.

His father was furious now as he slowly picked himself up out of the dirt. It was then that the boy realized that if he had the gun, and his father was coming after him, his mother would be safe. So he darted off in the direction his mother had originally told him to go, ducking under branches and struggling to stay on the path.

If he took too many steps in the wrong direction, he was likely to end up falling into the water of the swamp. And that was something he was taught very early in his young life not to do. But his father was quickly following, yelling incoherently all the way. While the boy deftly managed to avoid most of the obstacles, the man behind him just crashed through each and every one.

The town wasn’t far, and lights were starting to come into the boy’s view as he got closer to safety. But just as he started to believe he would escape his father’s violent outburst, the man got just close enough to grab him by the back of his coat.

“YOU AIN’T GOING ANYWHERE YOU LITTLE FUCK!”

But the boy was so close. He was so close to safety. He was so close to doing as his Momma asked of him. He was so close .

In that very moment, something changed. The boy’s terror turned to anger as he recalled all of the horrible things his father had said and done to his mother. He thought of all the times the man hurt him, all the times he had been afraid. And it all turned into a rage that he had never before felt in his young life.

So as his father yanked him back and took the gun from his hand, the boy didn’t even stop to fear the barrel pointing down at him. He released all of his anger and shoved his father as hard as he could directly into the swamp.

He should’ve taken that moment to run, to hide, to get to Auntie’s or sprint back home to check on his mother. But instead, he looked down into the dark water, just barely illuminated by the full moon, and watched his drunken father struggle. And just then, the best thing the young boy had ever seen happened right in front of his eyes.

In the middle of splashing and cursing in the Louisiana swamp, his father suddenly went straight down into the water. The boy waited for a moment, wondering where he could’ve gone. He didn’t have to wonder for long, the man resurfaced a moment later, now clearly bleeding.

Before the boy could question how the injury happened, the biggest gator he had ever seen came crashing up from under the surface and grabbed his father’s head right in its mouth. The man barely had the chance to make a noise before he was dragged back down into the water.

The child took a couple of steps back from the water’s edge, but he didn’t run. He stayed put and watched. Even smiled. His father splashed his limbs around, probably trying to get his head back above water. But the reptile wasn’t allowing it, and eventually it started doing an underwater roll that tore bits of flesh from its prey’s feeble body.

Every so often, the boy would see a webbed foot or spiked tail or bloody snout come up as his father was drowned by the gator, but even once the man had gone still, the child still watched, the smile on his face slowly growing. Growing until it was almost painful.

The animal grabbed whatever limbs were easiest to reach and shook its prey in its jaws until bones snapped and flesh tore into bits that were small enough to swallow whole. It wasn’t long before the beast had devoured the man in the water, leaving nothing more than shreds of torn clothes and a bloody shoe floating along.

The boy decided to go back home instead of to Auntie’s now that neither he nor his mother were in danger. They wouldn’t ever be again. He glanced to his side, where the light of the moon had given him his shadow. He grinned at his only friend. And for a split second, it almost looked like the shadow smiled back at him.

The boy quickly walked back down the path, his shadow beside him. When he reached the beginning of the swamp trail he had run away on, he started to hear crying. His mother’s crying. He rushed through the backyard to find her sobbing heavily on the back steps. But when she looked up and saw the boy still alive, her eyes lit up like she had seen an angel.

She rushed to her son, taking him in her arms with fresh tears flowing down her face. She could barely get any words out between the sobs, so the boy decided to speak instead. He rarely did, they’d even started calling him a mute. But he looked up at his mother, overflowing with relief, and repeated one of her favorite phrases, “Smile, Momma. You’re never fully dressed without one.”

Source: Do You Want To Know? Chapter 20

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor’s shadow #hazbin fanfic #hazbin fanart #mine #fanfic #do you want to know #i’m not good at drawing #trying to learn how to write well tho

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