For The Not-So-Kind (Incomplete)

Turbulent Season

A reckless, billionaire philanthropist once said that as humans we create our own demons. Most of the time enjoy creating long term problems that only affect them in adulthood. This is what in me had been create by my Father, a cesspool where hatred, anger and anguish would be nurtured and instilled due to his negligence and numerous foul acts. Foul acts that I had to atone for. Atonement so severe, that my mother was not willing to entertain it, so she left, which made Father an ever more bitter man. It never concerned me, whether he was bitter or not, but as soon as he focused all his devices on me, it all went South. I am Andreas Rodrigues and this is my story.

I remember it all as if it were yesterday - Thursday the 16th of February to be exact. All the pain that I had endured . . . my blood pressure was incredible. Father had come back from the Hither – a place where, mortal men and demons alike struck deals. No greetings were exchanged when I had finally seen him though, only commands that a lower class serf or brute would follow. He was probably fuming still after the report he had received from one of my commanding officers, Commander Eric T. Mass. Accusing me of treason and failure to properly function as a unit with my squadron. All of which had been blown out of proportion by my “gracious” commander. Back to the present, Father looked as if he were ready to jump me, but had seemed to be constrained by the intimacy of his current situation seemingly causing a brief window for the thought of my treachery to slither from his mind. He just pulled away from the hanger, spiting venom at my right eye like the vile snake he is. My heart managed to establish a decreased pace as the fleet of planes finally turned to a swarm of bees and then so disappeared over the horizon. I didn’t mind the sting it was just the state in which my eye had been left in. The following day – today I had not seen or heard from Father. A shame, I had planned to end him but I couldn’t for later in the day – towards the evening, I had planned to meet with the love of my life, Felicie du Onschwagen. The idea of meeting with her today . . . tantalising. The evening finally came and I met up with Felicie. She looked as beautiful as ever. With the impending doom that would follow I cherished the time I had with her . . . the flesh on her cheek, gentle to the touch. She notice my wounded eye. I said nothing, except that the issue would be taken care of.

I made my way back home. I found Father’s horseless chariot out on the drive way, the lights still on and sword piercing the rear end of the vehicle. I decided to take the blade and stroll towards the front door to which when I arrived, I heard Father say “Come in”. And so I did. I walked towards the study where an ominous flame could be seen. My heart beat increased as I approached the large recliner in the centre. Beads of sweat rushed down my forehead. I rushed toward the chair and with one swift motion I sent the blade through the back of the chair. I then felt a chill next to my spine, just to find it was a dagger freshly thrusted by Father.