Madness || Alastor X Reader

Chapter 38: Alastor's Past

TW: MENTIONS OF BLOOD, MURDER, AND TORTURE!!! WILL SHOW TW BEFORE SCENES THAT CONTAIN THESE TW INCASE ANYONE WOULD LIKE TO SKIP THROUGH IT

|Alastor's pov|

I sighed as I glanced over the city, trying to create an awkward silence so it would give me a moment of relief before I explained my past to you.
I hoped maybe by some miracle you would forget you ever asked, but I knew that was very unlikely. 'I wonder if she will see me as a monster once I tell her the truth?'
It may sound maddening but a sense of curious excitement spread through me like a wild fire.

"You want to know the truth darling?" I mused with my smile widening.

You only nodded your head while looking into my eyes desperately. I chuckled darkly at your curiosity as I gently placed my hand under your chin. In one swift move, I connected your soft lips with mine while your eyes shined a bright blue. Together, we both became surrounded by my memories.
      My memories started from the day it was your funeral. We both watched from afar, seeing a sad but enraged, past human me. You frowned a bit as you saw your parents sobbing uncontrollably while they attempted to comfort my past self. Mentally, I was rolling my eyes at how pathetic I seemed when I was human. 'Gross. Human emotions are revolting.'

TRIGGER WARNING FOR GORE SCENES STARTING NOW!

     My memories faded to the night where I was becoming more mad, starving for revenge no matter the cost. I kept my smile while watching my past human self kill the filthy scum named Jason that took you away from me. My smile and eyes widened from excitement as I witnessed blood being splashed around the walls, dripping onto the floor. Watching my past self bash someone's skull in still gave me the same amount of adrenaline now as it did when I was human. 'I was blood thirsty then as I am still just as blood thirsty now.'

"Why didn't you stop once you got your revenge on the man?" You asked me.

I chuckled, my grip on my radio staff tightening while I watched my memories unfold before me. "Murder is like a drug. Once you commit to it, you can't stop at just one. You crave the excitement so much it drives you to do it again and again!"

      My memories flashed from the moments of my past self brutally torturing and slaughtering the supposed gang that was there when you died up to all the other people I so mercilessly killed. You watched in shock at how more insane my past self became through each kill I committed, how much more violent and vicious my murders were becoming one after another. I noticed how your hands found their way to the sleeve of my coat as I watched you grip onto my sleeve anxiously. I arched my brow in excitement, wondering just how you would react to the rest of the murders I committed. 'Wonder how she will take my past murders on children?'
     I knew for a fact you would probably be horrified, but my mind was so absorbed in watching my past self murder others, that I couldn't care less within this moment. 'I miss killing people so damn much.'

You didn't take your eyes off of the murderous memories before you as you began, "Al, it's only a few murders. Even if they became a bit more—well a lot more violent, at least you didn't slaughter innocent childr-"

     I almost cackled out loud from the irony of your sentence being interrupted by my past memories of the stock market crashing. My memories revealed me seeing the multiple homeless orphans wandering the streets, starving and looking for shelter. You froze upon seeing my past self beginning to murder orphans that witnessed my previous murders or that were just too close to where I had committed a murder.
     I watched your reactions closely, feeling the very small amount of humanity and empathy I had left, slowly begin to slip away.
     You covered your mouth in horror, your breath trembling in fear. My adrenaline almost kicked in as my sick twisted self enjoyed seeing others filled with fear by me and my actions (whether they be past or present). A small fraction of my mind was screaming for me to stop with the memories, screaming for me to feel guilt for these murders, feel guilt for you having to witness my past deranged self.
     However, the memories still flashed, quickly skimming through more of my murders before slowing down.
I was confused at why my memories slowed up to the point where my murders were becoming sloppier, where I had left behind more evidence and details than I had liked. You watched curiously at my past self having conflicting thoughts while I sat in my old office. You frowned upon seeing my thoughts land on murdering detectives and anyone else affiliated with catching the nickname I earned then; the Axe Murderer.
     You gasped once it showed the day where I died. Once my memories began showing me getting attacked by that fake police officer's dogs, I rolled my eyes. 'Pathetic.'
     Then again, what else was I supposed to do in that situation? I shouldn't call myself pathetic when it was almost impossible to outrun those hounds. So many dogs with multiple sharp teeth was a situation where I was bound to end up getting bit.
     You whispered out Husk's name once it showed him helping me with the dogs. Your face frowned once it had my past self begging Husk to kill me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw you glance up at me; a sad expression painted upon your features.
     In the last final moments of my memories, you closed your eyes, flinching when my past self pulled the trigger to end my own life.
     The world around us that where my memories had been began to disappear, returning back to the Hell I knew and loved so dearly.