Hongjoong is a quiet child.
Abused by his parents.
He doesn't have any friends.
One night on his sixth birthday a demon appeared in his bedroom, under the assumption the child wouldn't see him.
He's never been more wrong.
BxB
Ateez Demon AU
Main Sh...
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Warning! Mention of Child abuse Description of death Mention of suicide Death Blood
🖤🥀⛓💔⛓🥀🖤
Hongjoong lied in his bed. Motionless. Five days. Five days went by since the Stranger appeared in his bedroom in the middle of the night. It was a curse and a blessing. He would never forget this day.
His eye felt still sore, but the throbbing pain started to subside a day ago. A mere aching feeling stayed behind, reminded him of the punch his father threw at him for crying to loud.
When would it stop? Would it ever stop? Why him? Thought circled his mind, pacing back and forth, never stopped once. He didn't ate in two days. His parents wouldn't let him. To teach him a lesson his mother said. He haven't left his room either.
"Just let me die. Just kill me. Make the pain go away. Anything." He didn't care anymore. He didn't struggled anymore everytime his father came in to let his anger out on the innocent soul. At this point he craved death.
He knew what he did as he stood up from his bed, outside the room for the first time in five days. He knew exactly what would happen as soon as his father laid eyes on him. And yet he couldn't even control it anymore.
Maybe he would finally be free. His little mind couldn't even comprehend dark thoughts like these, maybe that was the reason he didn't payed to much thought to it?
He went straight to the living room where his father said in his armchair watching TV, a bottle of beer in one and the remote in the other hand. As always. His mother was nowhere to be seen. As always.
He stopped right infront of the tv. He didn't even needed to look up to know that his father was furious. He saw him, from the corner of this eyes, how he got up to push the boy to the ground. His foot meet with the boys side, again and again, crushing his rips under the strong impact.
The boy cried out in pain, yet he didn't stop him. He didn't wanted him to stop. Pain was the only feeling that made him still feel alive. The only feeling he knew. He didn't looked up from the carpet once. The only thing he heard was a intense ringing in his ears, as his father's foot meet his head, and the now mere muffled screams of the man himself.
He couldn't hear his own screams. He blended everything out. Something pooled up in his mouth, he had to open it to let it out. He coughed, the taste was disgusting. He looked at it. Blood. The red liquid dripped out of his mouth onto the carpet, the sight made his father even more furious than he already was.
He could feel every kick, every punch. He was grabbed by the hair with one hand, another one on his throat, squeezing it with so much pressure it took his breath away immediately. He couldn't even grab the hand to stop him. He was to weak. Everything in front of his eyes became blurred.
