VegasPete One-Shots

Unwithering Demons

The tale of an abused soul and a monstrous father

**So I listened to Control by Halsey and Dynasty by MIIA and that happened. It appears that Control was written to represent Halsey's bipolar disorder, which makes the song very fitting for Vegas. This is an exaggeration of Vegas's dad's behavior towards him**

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TRIGGER WARNING - Graphic descriptions of torture

And there he laid, In a dark red ill-lit room. A dim light coming from the little gap on the wall, a hollow, reflected the scars on his body; his torn flesh. The smell of stench, urine and a deadly rotten corpse filled the room. Cigarettes ashes were scattered all around, and oh, if you would only lift your gaze you would see the cigarette burns manifesting on his skin.

Struggling - in and out, in and out, he breathed. Tears were no longer coming out, all dry.

Help was never farther away. A foolish dream In the mind of a tortured soul. When will someone come and help? Save him from the demons enveloping his mind? From reality?

Right now life feels pointless, he thought before laying his eyes to rest.

Somebody, please, help me.

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"What did I tell you about signing the contract with Big Liu?" The middle-aged man shouted in his son's ear, holding him by the hair strands.

"You good for nothing cocksucker. I'm ashamed to call you family," he sighed, "I think you forgot how our business works. Do I really need to remind you how to follow orders again?" He asked with a sick glee.

"Dad I'm sorry, I won't do it again," said the miserable son, afraid of what's to come.

And he knew, he knew how unreasonable his dad was, how un-rationale. So why, why did he go and make that mistake again? But failed missions happen to occur. Things don't always work the way you plan them to.

Vegas knew that he had done all he could. Signing with Big Liu was the best option for them to win the drug deal and get those damned 100 million baht. Oh but no, Big Liu had to go and get himself killed, and as a result, the money and drugs were long gone, stolen away by some other gang. The money that was supposed to belong to the minor family.

So his dad being mad? Yes, that made sense. But the behavior of the head of the minor family household was known to be cruel. His deranged mind was capable of everything and Vegas knew of it firsthand.

The fingers that were holding him, circling his hair strands, gripping tight, pulled the poor son into a dark room. A torture chamber kind of sort. His dad's own playroom. The grip was too much for his abused scalp, making Vegas follow him obediently.

It was a small room with a reddish light. No visible windows were seen, just small gaps and holes strewed on the walls, probably made by rodents. The temperature felt cold, even bone-chilling he'll say, resembling a morgue. A huge torture rack standing in the middle.

And as the father cuffed his son to the rack, the latter tried to resist but to no avail.

His face became bloodied really fast from his dad punching him again and again.

Laying him down on this bed of death, he locked his ankles to the machine, disabling Vegas from moving. "Please stop you're scaring me," the fearful one said, only to hear, "Damn right, you should be scared," as a response.

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And once that man had left, all of Vegas's emotions came crumbling down. The stones were falling from the big wall he built around himself.

The scars, the deep wounds that seemed to accumulate that evening, can't be reversed. Like a brand burned deep into the skin, that same disgusting skin that he wanted to tear off.

Please, make it go away.

The once child now young adult had made it through the maze of life, trying to chase happiness that never seemed to come. It was ungraspable for him, too far away for someone that troubled, that twisted, that miserable.

He laughed.

Laughing was better than crying.

He knew that he looked like a sick person at that moment but he didn't care. No one was watching, no one could help.

It was not the first time.

At times, it seemed like his father would stop his twisted behavior. But it was only a façade. A mask shown to the outside world, even to Vegas himself.

Kant's behavior was unpredictable, making Vegas afraid to come home. He knew that he had to excel in all things, to be better than the main family. Because if not, well, there's always another room for a newly dead body his father always used to joke.

His words never seemed funny to Vegas.

Since the deranged man already uncuffed him before leaving, the eldest minor family son got himself up from the damned torture machine, limping his way to the exit door.

He fell into the cold concrete floor.

Blood kept gushing from his cuts, a disgusting odor stuck to his skin. Fuck. He needed to take a shower before Macau came home.

If only he could reach the doorknob.

The little boy in him looked for salvation, but he himself knew that he had to be strong, to fight the demons that tried to control his mind. Weak, pathetic, they screamed, trying to bring him down.

What he needed was an outlet, maybe even a shelter, but the type of life he led didn't allow him these privileges.

He had to get by, all by himself.

So he started crawling. Thinking of his dear brother.

Macau.

He just wanted the best for him.

You have to survive, he thought to himself, for Macau.

And when he managed to stand up, his fingertips touching the doorknob, a loud voice was heard from outside.

What's happening, he thought while slowly opening the door.

The smell of smoke filled his nostrils. The house was burning.

It seemed that some lunatic came to visit and left the gas stove on.

"Quickly, this away!" A shout was heard before he fainted.

Salvation, salvation had come.

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**So while we're waiting for VegasPete to appear on screen, I wanted to share this piece that I had written about a week ago. I know that everyone waits for Pete's capture but tbh I actually want to see some minor family dynamics beforehand. Vegas is such an interesting character and I want BOC to give us a glimpse of his and Macau's life so people could understand them better**