Twisted

Chapter 4

*New Orleans June 6, 1913*

I couldn't have been down there for more than four hours before the door opens up again and I see my squirming brother held by my father. Like he did to me, my father throws Al down the stairs. I do my best to break his fall, but jostling around my shoulder leaves it in enormous amounts of pain. The doors slam shut once again and we're both huddled together in the darkness.

"Did he hurt you more?" I ask.

Al nods. "He came into the room. I ran like you said, but he caught me. I couldn't do it. I couldn't save you or mama." Alastor buries his head in my chest as I hug him tight.

"It's not your fault Al. You did everything you can." I whisper.

"He said if I told anyone about m-mama he'd hurt me then you."

"Alastor I promise nobody will hurt you. Not him, not anyone."

I hug Alastor tight in the dark and start singing softly.

"Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song
Scorpion sting, I don't wanna bleed
Tell me that I'm not lost
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song

Raven can you hear me
Thought you loved me but you fooled me
You drove me to madness
No one here to witness
Vicious and relentless
A villain in a black dress
Too late, I should have listened
You want me to be alone
Remind me of what is gone
Singing from dusk 'til dawn
Nevermore, nevermore, nevermore

A question before I go
A favor from you my foe
This song you keep singin'
Nevermore, nevermore, nevermore

Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song
Scorpion sting, I don't wanna bleed
Tell me that I'm not lost
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song

Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song
Scorpion sting, I don't wanna bleed
Tell me that I'm not lost
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song~"

We sit in the dark for longer than I can keep track. It could have been days, it could have been hours. He's most likely hiding the body and once he's done who knows how long he'll keep us down here. I slowly stand up and bite back a scream of pain as I put pressure on my bad shoulder.

I tip toe up the stairs to the door. I push on it only to feel the resistance of the lock in place. Well it was worth a try. I tip toe back down the stairs and feel my way along the wall until I hit a cabinet. I open the doors and feel around until I feel some matches. I pull out the box and strike one.

The brilliant little orange glow lights up the shelf in front of me and I'm able to find an oil lamp. I grab it and light it. I stuff the rest of the matches in my pocket and look around the cabinet for a medical kit of some kind. I find it towards the top and reach to grab it only for my shoulder to explode in pain causing me to drop the lantern.

"Fuck." I hiss as I hold my arm. With my good arm I reach up again and pull the med kit off the shelf.

"(Y/n)?" I hear Al.

"Al, could you please pick up the lantern." I say as I turn to see him standing behind me. He nods, blood still soaking his cheek from earlier. He picks up the lantern and we walk to the center of the room where we sit around the light facing each other.

I pull off my coat and look at my shoulder. It looks to be only dislocated, hopefully. I grab my wrist with my non injured arm and pull in front of me. I feel hot pain as my shoulder glides back to it's socket. I bite my tongue so hard to keep from screaming that my mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood. I tie the sleeves of my coat together and put it over my head so it's resting on my non injured shoulder. I fiddle with it until my arm is secured in the coat.

I spit the blood in my mouth on the floor nearby before I take a deep breath. Now that that's done I can work on Alastor's wounds.

"Come closer." I say to him.

He does and I grab a clean rag with my good hand and wipe his face clean so I can see any cuts. I noticed one on his forehead from a tree branch probably. I clean the wound softly before covering it with a bandage.

"Where else did he hurt you?" I ask.

Al lifts his arm. I notice a gash in his sleeve and blood dripping from it. "When did this happen?" I ask.

"When he k-killed mama. I tried to be like you and protect her."

I cut the rest of the sleeve away to expose a, thankfully, not too deep cut. Based on the size and angle of the cut I'd say it was from one of our kitchen knives. Based on the slight pull of the skin too it was the dull one.

I clean the wound and dab some alcohol on it. Al hisses in pain and more tears flow down his face. "Sorry bud, I know it hurts just a little bit longer." I dab a few more times before covering the cut with a bandage.

We're down there well after the lantern runs out of oil for light, leaving us once again in the dark. I hug Al close as he slowly drifts off.

"I love you, Al." I say softly brushing his hair out of his face.

"I love you too, (Y/n)." he whispers.

Hours pass until I finally hear the soft trudge of footsteps coming towards the shelter doors. I hear the jingle of keys until finally the lock clicks and the doors swing outward. In the soft glow of light from the house our father stands there at the top of the steps.

"Are we going to have any problems?" He asks.

"No sir." I say.

"No sir." Al says at the same time.

He sneers at us before turning around and going back to the house.

I take Al's hand and lead him up the stairs to freedom. We slowly make our way back to the house. I help Al into the kitchen and make him and I a sandwich. The house looks normal, as if there wasn't a murder here a few nights ago. There are no blood stains on the carpets. The walls have been cleaned and all the broken glass was swept up.

"Now what happened to mother?" Our father asks.

"She ran away sir. She didn't love us any more." I say emotionless without meeting his eyes.

"Very good." He turns and heads to the chair in the living room. I stare at the back of his head and imagine the various ways I could kill him and where I would hide the body. My mind fills with the image of him choking on his own blood. I'd make the dream reality if it weren't for my arm.

'You better watch your back.'

'Your days are numbered father.'

)*(
Words-1265
Date-5/17/21

Hope y'all enjoyed!