Imaginary Friend || Alastor x Reader

Chapter 1 - Can't you see it, Papa?

Papa was always a cheap guy, loving anything with a pretty price, that's why when an old house in the swamps of New Orleans was opened and had such a convenient price he jumped on buying it. I thought it was quite pretty, though it was kinda rude when a skinny butterfly tried to bite me, I guess they were just hungry but it's still not nice to do that without asking. The new home was very pretty, though I didn't know why when Papa was looking at the house why no one else had bought it.

I didn't know where my papa was, maybe he was doing some work in his makeshift office? We haven't completely moved in properly, that's why I was left just about toyless, nothing but me and Mr. Mittens. He was my best friend, a black cat plush that had white paws and cute little blue buttons for eyes. He was hand-made by my mommy, so he was a little messed up in some places, but they are just his battle wounds. 

The house was very old and dusty, causing me to sneeze as I explored the halls, the house still had items from previous owners. It was odd how some were layered in dust and others not so much, like the people living there left in a hurry and didn't pick up their stuff. Papa says with all the 'old junk' he could make money off of selling them for a lot. The carpet was faded slightly as the passing of time would have made anything become worn down, looking past the dark wooded halls its corners had cobwebs hiding in a place I couldn't reach with my small body.

The second story did have a small lounge area, along with a tall bookshelf built-in with books sparsely placed on its shelves, I could tell it couldn't be moved since it almost blended in perfectly with the wall. It would be pretty cute to put some of my toys and drawings on or to change it into a mini library for Papa and me to read. There was an old golden chandelier that had candles on instead of light bulbs, it must have been here for ages to have that, or maybe the person who lived here before was a princess! So maybe that's why the house was fancy. That's when I noticed the wall, I didn't see it as it since I'm still little after all and it was high-high up!

Animals were on the wall, well kind of, more of just the heads. Some were of bunny-rabbits, others of big deers with long horns, and one of a bear that had its teeth showing like it was roaring. Though I could tell it hadn't done that in a long time, since there were cobwebs in their mouth, all of the animal's eyes were dull, like a doll. Mr. Mittens didn't seem to like the animals though, so I tried to hug him to make him feel better, he's always been a sensitive little kitty.

It was weird, where was the rest of them? I should probably return the heads since I think they might have lost them, but I don't know where I would find the other half of them. Maybe they'll come to pick them up later.

I saw the room that was going to be mine, some of my boxes were up, I tried to open them but my little arms didn't do much help. I huffed and looked around some more, the room had a window looking out onto the swamp below, it was pretty in its way. Mr. Mittens and I looked out the windows, wiping a bit of the dirt off with my sleeve so we could see. The murky waters were too dirty to see at the bottom, the muddy land in which I could barely see my father's footprints, and the trees with so many little bugs flying around them.

I had seen just about everything in this house, nothing seemed too different so I went looking for my Papa. After a bit I saw him placing some boxes on the counter in the kitchen, the floor creaked as my rain boots hit the wood, Papa only sighed and ripped the tape off the boxes to take the plates out. 

He didn't seem to see me so I spoke up, "Hi Papa! Do you need help with the boxes?"

Not turning around, he began to place the plates in the cabinets, "No (Y/N). I don't need any help sweetie."

He seemed tired, moving in is always stressful in TV shows so maybe he's just hurting from carrying all the boxes, he's probably just not wanting to ask for help. My Papa was a hard-working man, he was always too tired to play games or do much at home but drink juice and watch TV. Mommy always told me it's because he works too hard, and when people are upset that I should be a good girl and help out.