Twisted

Chapter 1

*New Orleans May 12, 1910*

There was no one to hear the cries of the child and the begging screams of his sister. The house was secluded in the woods where the street lights never reached. The only things that ever heard the childrens' screams were the deer grazing at night. This isn't a fairytale. No one is coming to save them and that's the hard truth.

(Y/n) POV

My cheek burns from where he hit me again. Like every night me and mother go down first, but he takes most of his anger out on Al. Little Al, only 6 years younger than I.

"Da, please! Stop it! Stop it!" I cried. Mother lay inches from me. A bruise forming on her temple. My father ignores me and hits Alastor again. "No! Stop it!" I crawl to my feet and stumble over where I push my father over.

I stand between Al and my horrible father. He gets back up a look of murder on his face as he punches me hard and I fall before Al. I pull Al close to protect him from father. My head is yanked back as my father pulls my hair hard.

I'm separated from Alastor for a moment; his eyes are filled with tears and fear. "Run, Al!" I shout and he does just that.

Minutes feel like hours as my father continues to hit me until he's too tired to raise his fist again. He slumps to the ground passed out. I push myself up and limp to our bedroom door. I knock softly.

"Al? It's me. He's asleep now." I hear the soft click of the lock before the door inches open and Al peeks his head through the door. I limp into the room and tend to my wounds and Alastor's before laying on the bed. I hug Al tight as I drift off to the escape of sleep.

In the morning father is in a worse mood. He's throwing things and yelling at mother. I quickly pack our school bags and sneak out the door leading Al to the school house. I kneel before him while I tame his bed hair and straighten his coat.

"Behave Al, or I'll have a talk with your teacher." I say.

Al nods and gives me a hug before running off towards the school yard where other young kids play on the swings. I smile softly before turning and heading back down that dirt road. I walk along the dirt roads of New Orleans with nothing to do. I stopped going to school years ago.

A newspaper ad of the newest radio catches my attention as I pass a stand. Making sure the coast is clear, I swipe one off the stand before disappearing in a nearby alley. "Al will love this." I say to myself as I read it over and shove it in my bag.

"Psst. Kid." I hear a voice from behind me.

I turn around to see an ugly looking man smiling at me.

"Want to see a magic trick?" He asks, he smiles and his teeth look rotten.

I clutch the strap of my bag and take a step back. "No." I say.

"Aw come on. It'll just take a moment." The man steps closer to me.

I glance behind me to see the opening of the alley. When I look back the man is right in my face. My eyes widen and I gasp as he grabs my arm rather tightly and hauls me around the corner to an abandoned building.

I dig my feet into the ground to slow him down but it doesn't work as well as I thought. "Help! Somebody hel-!" He clamps a hand over my mouth and slaps me hard.

"None of that young lady." He tightens his grip and continues to drag me away.

My mind flashes to Al and him all alone with our horrible father. I imagine him crying himself to sleep not knowing what happened to me or where I went. I imagine him accepting that I abandoned him. Tears prick my eyes. I would never abandon you Al. Never.

I realized no one was going to help me. Not with his horrible man. Not with my father. I have to help myself. I have to help Alastor.

Something clicked in my heart, something dangerous.

I let the man drag me away to wherever he deemed fit. That was fine, I was not the one to die tonight. The thought of killing this man filled my heart with a new kind of feeling, one of power, one of strength.

The hardwood floor met my knees as the man threw me down. A few inches in front of me a rusted nail lay abandoned. I slide my hand up and grasp the nail giving it a new purpose. The man locked the door behind him with his back to me. I can not beat him in a strength match. So I have to play the fox and out smart him. Hit him where he's weak. Bring him to my level. He chose the wrong target today.

I set down my bag and stood up on my feet with the nail. As the man turned around I jammed the thing in his eye. He screamed in pain and put his hand up to his eye where blood gushed from the wound. I back up as he reaches for me and look for something else I could defend myself with.

A broken window grabs my attention. I look back at the man; who's a blubbering mess and red faced from the blood. With his good eye he glares at me. I turn and sprint towards the window hoping to find a big enough piece of glass. I got to the window but before I could grab a shard the man has his hand in my hair and slams my head against the window.

The sound of glass shattering fills the silent warehouse as my head breaks more of the window. Warm liquid pours down my face, I know immediately that it's blood. I slip my hand over a big shard of glass and grip it in my hand so tight I feel the skin break on my palms.

I spin around and stab the guy in the leg. He lets go of my hair and topples to the ground. I stand above him as he tries to crawl away. I step on his foot and twist it an ugly degree. I smirk as I hear that perfect snap and scream of pain.

I kneel next to the man and stab his stomach. Blood squirts a bit and stains my dress.

"Please. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me. Don't kill me." The man begs.

My face is one of stone as his fear fuels my hunger. I stab him again and again and again until his screams stop. Even then I continue to cut him up. Blood soaks my hands and forearms. The front of my dress is ruined. I stand up and examine my work. A smile comes to my face as I feel the satisfaction flow through my veins.

One final time I stab the shard through his throat and leave it there. I walk over to my bag and grab the strap with my bloody hands. Something shines in the sunlight streaming through the busted window. I turn to a wardrobe with its door open a crack.

I push open the door and see many knives of various sizes. Intrigued, I grab most of them and shove them in my bag. I also notice a box of matches and a tank of gasoline. I pick up the gasoline and dump it all around the dry wood warehouse. I make sure to douse the man's body extra well. Once the can is empty I throw it away and light a match.

"Goodbye, Fucker." I say as I drop the match on the man's body. Everything lights up in a brilliant glow as I put my bag on my back and exit the warehouse. I duck into an alley and follow it to a stream where I wash off all the blood before heading home.

)*(
Words-1377
Date-5/8/21

And so we begin another Hazbin tale.

I hope y'all enjoyed!