(Note: this may actually be my darkest oneshot/fic to date. I am warning everyone who is wanting to read this to be aware that it covers really dark topics. It depicts child murder (very brief and quick/not very descriptive) and it probably isn't for the faint of heart. Some religious imagery is also in it so idk what you want to do with that information. Just be aware and stay safe. I don't know if I will keep it up or not. This is the only thing I have been able to write in months.)
Gods. Phil would pray to each one of the gods in the heavens above for the sins he has committed. For in the night, he had done the most cruel act his hands could have ever done and now he has to explain himself. He would have to live with them burned into his hateful skin along his strong, yet weak, back.
'What happened?' You might ask?
Let's find out.
---
'Gods,' Philza prayed in the back of his mind, 'just let this day already end.'
Screeching came from the bassinet beside their- his bed. He slapped his face to wake up and urged himself to sit up. Looking into the cradle was the demon that took everything from him.
'Theseus Innit Minecraft Watson.' Was her dying wish that echoed into the gates of heavens. She was greeted in those moments as a saint herself and Phil was still back on the same hell on earth. The beloved angel, his wife, Kristin was taken from him so cruely just because she insisted on keeping the boy she birthed. 'He is going to do something amazing in the future,' she had insisted with a delightful smile, 'my little Toms is so special and dear to me. My final masterpiece.'
How Phil wished that her final masterpiece were something materialistic. Something he wouldn't have to slave away to care for all on his own. Not some brat, snotty faced baby with his hair and her smile.
Phil remembered those moments, holding their- his- the demon and actually smiling with pride on his face. 'My Toms,' he cooed, 'I already love you.' Then, fate twisted its hand cruelly and Kristin breathed her last breath into the cold morning air. Phil remembers dropping the pest, the baby falling with a sickening crunch onto the ground and started crying. The man didn't care, he only cared about his wife dying on the bed. If he did, he would have seen the small hands reaching to him for comfort or the baby wailing for his mama.
Instead, their two other- only sons were in the room immediately, one picking up the baby gingerly, the other going into a protective state.
'Dad,' the one holding the baby called. He had walked closer, not knowing what to do with a rushed room and a bleeding baby. He tried to usher it into Phil's arms but the man shoved the head of the demon aside.
'Don't touch that thing!' He yelled as the baby cried harder. The doctor pronounced Kristin dead and then took the baby to help heal him. Phil didn't care if the doctor left him on the side of the road for all he cared.
Phil blinked and was back on the edge of his bed with the screaming demon in the bassinet.
His sons would usually be in here after a flashback to take care of the pest but the two were out inside the town, spending the night at a friend's house. They loved the demon for some reason. Phil suspected it was because Kristin had spoke of how much she loved him and made them promise to protect him from anything that causes harm. Phil broke that promise long ago. The two boys loved to call the demon, 'Gold' because of the color of his hair.
"Will you stop crying, you fucking brat!" Phil yelled as he kicked the bassinet. An instinctual gasp escaped his mouth as it fell before he remembered who was in it. His gaze hardened as he came to stand in front of it. The baby, was on the floor with bruises and was crying his lungs out. Arms reached out to 'daddy.' "You are such a fucking MISTAKE!" He stomped his foot, causing the crying to cease for a second before continuing. "I didn't want you. The only reason YOU are here is because YOUR MOTHER had a heart of gold who could see through ANY monster!" He had picked up the demon by now, holding it harshly on the bed as it tried to squirm out of his grasp. The pillow it was being smothered into was causing the baby to turn blue. "SHE LOVED EVERYONE!" Phil continued, lifting the pest from the pillow. The pest choked on a sob. "HOW DID SHE LOVE YOU, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!" He shook the demon harshly, causing the head to be flailed violently with a snap.
Breathing heavily, he discovered the demon wasn't breathing at all. And then it came to him, looking at himself holding a dead, bruised baby in the mirror in front of him. He was the monster that Kristin fell in love with. He is the one that murdered a baby just because he was born on the wrong day.
Looking at the demon- child, he could see his own and Kristin's features reflected. The golden hair, the beautiful smile, just everything about the baby was so perfect, even the crystal blue eyes that were starting to dull. It felt like he was looking at the baby- his son for the first time in ages. This was a baby, harmless, defenseless, just overall the best part about humans and animals in general. You don't just go around looking at these creatures and wanting to kill them. 'I did,' Phil reminds himself, 'I did.'
This baby may have taken his love- 'no he didn't,' he reminded himself, 'no he didn't- but Phil took his son whom was loved by his two older brothers. They truly loved Theseus. 'Tommy,' Phil remembers himself wanting to call the baby, 'Tommy.'
He held the baby close to him, sobbing like the baby used to. Looking at the torn up room with distaste and hatred. He wished he could rewind time and love this baby like Kristin loved him. This baby was apart of him and now it was gone. Smothered into the pillows on his bed and blood all over Phil's hands.
The town would surely ostracize him and throw him in jail for killing a baby. Claim he were evil and then go after his two other sons in the meantime. Phil would take his punishment but his sons, they would not be blamed for being born to a monster.
It wasn't their fault, much like Tommy.
---
Phil was sitting at the table, head bowed in shame with dirt under his nails. He buried his infant son right next to his wife where they belonged together. Away from the monster in their past lives.
The door opened, two boys wandered in, talking quietly with their duffle bags on their shoulders.
"Oh, dad! Is Tom-Toms asleep?" The brunet asked with a gentle smile. Phil felt a knot in his throat that wouldn't go away.
"Please, come here boys." The two looked at each other before letting their bags fall and going to sit at the table. The highchair that Tommy would sit in was in the corner. .
"What happened?" The older of the twins asked. 'His guard was going up,' Phil noted.
"Something happened." Phil found himself explaining everything as the dam burst. Tears rolled down his face as he stuttered his way through the explanation, the boys showing horrified faces. The brunet got up afterwards and instantly rushed out of the room, the pink haired had a dark look on his face. He looked conflicted.
"Tommy! Tommy? Tom!" Phil could hear up the stairs. The voice was desperate and things were being shoved aside.
"W-why?" Phil turned to his other son. He had always been so emotionally stable, not showing anything was wrong. The voice crack said otherwise. Phil just put his head face down onto the table. He was so exhausted.
He didn't know what to do as the screams for a baby who deserved to live were echoed into the depths of heaven and hell.
Words: 1308
Written: Friday, June 18th, 2021, 2:26 am
Edited:
