It's as silent as ever, these days it seems as though I'm constantly surrounded by it. First with that pedophilic clown, the hideout with the Spiders, and now this lonesome house stained by the blood of our enemies. I guess some things never change, but I can't be mad at it. I mean I am the best in this type of atmosphere.
When I walked through the door, nobody greeted me like any other loving family would, despite this cliché, but rather I was a playground for the chills kept inside. They know I'm here, theses walls echo my shallow footsteps, it would be impossible not to. The grand hall to my parents office room was accompanied by many many rooms for our little guests and my siblings. Dimly lit lights and shadows from paintings and artifacts make the walk there all the more suspenseful and yet predictable.
Fathers doors starts to come into view. It was like all the others, my sisters and grandmother's yet there has always been something off about it. Maybe it was his demeanor, his cold ass state we've all inherited, or was it perhaps that same sad man in the oil painting that accompanied the door so gracefully? I left looking at that painting, and now I've returned, now face to face with it while I was lost in my thoughts.
Ah, I guess it's time... I can only wonder how this will go.
Knocking with a purpose on their door, a deep rooted voice booms, "Come in, it's time we finally spoke."
Turning the silver knob slightly and pushing the wooden door, not only do I see my parents, but the rest of my non existent welcoming party. Nobody looks to me, not even once, well except father, but it seems they are too disgusted to. It figures though.
Shutting the door behind me, I make my way to the front of fathers desk, not bothering to kneel since I'll most likely be disowned at this point. His orange eyes stare at me with such ferocity it's almost makes me look away.
"Father," I greet, blankly staring back.
No response, but his eyes, his horrible horrible eyes.
"I failed." It ricochets off the four walls caging me in, against the empty brains of the others as well, running up and down my spine.
"You bitch." That's all he has to say? Not a why, not an 'it figures', not even a sigh, but this?
"Maybe," I reply.
"How the FUCK did you manage this?"
"Simple really," I wait for his interest before I begin.
Nothing. He only stares into my soul. Nothing but his aura.
Finally he responds, "Tell me how you happened to mess up the one purpose of your entire being, tell me, I'm waiting." He growls.
"Well it went like this, oh and before we begin, please try to refrain from killing me on the spot, you actually might like what I'll have to say." He looks up to the corner of the ceiling, the one hidden in the dark and swipes his hand slightly, my sister dropping down, roughly to say the least. I hadn't even noticed her absence with my younger sister, mother, and grandmother.
"As I was saying, I went on my mission and fought with a man in the Phantom Troupe, the target you set me up with. This lasted for about 5 hours and 34 minutes to be exact before he offered to recruit me to his boss. Willingly, I agreed to his proposal, displayed my power at a low percentage and left to return to you." I state, my stare not leaving his as anger flashed across his own. How did I really expect this to go? I knew he would be mad, yet I've convinced myself that this time would be different. I'm punishing myself for defying orders for the first time ever in over twenty years. I guess this is really staring to get fun...
"Really?" He asks, lifting the back of his hand and swiping it across my face, nearly breaking my neck at that. Blood trickled down my lip. The sting of pain only creates a smile in me.
YOU ARE READING
Changes (Chrollo x Reader)
Fanfiction(y/n) was only created for one thing, to mindlessly kill and follow orders when told to, and she did this with exceeding excellency. While on one of her missions, orders: to kill by all means, (y/n) encounters her target who seems to be quite strang...
