Gray Recoil - Lycoris Recoil x Male OC/Reader

Prologue - Long Ago

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2012

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"Lbbt mhehe gioioo!"

My name's Gray.

"Noo! Sdbtop!"

While kids at my age were learning how to ride a bike, studying multiplication tables, and playing ball with their dads, mine began laying into me real hard. He wasn't the kindest scout at the camp.

Father: "Don't you ever talk back to me, ever. Do you understand me God damn it!?"

My father cried as he forced from the back of my head into a barrel of muddy water in our bathroom, suffocating me.

Father: "I'll end you damn it! The same way I ended her."

Wondering who 'her' is? Take a guess. Where there's a dad, a mom, a beautiful and responsible one who was taken from me. It'd become obvious it was gonna either be me or him.

I chose me.

I retaliated as I kicked him in the sack with the sole of my foot, impacting the little soul he had left. Upon release and seeing this opportunity, I took it and run off from the bathroom to the attic. The bathroom of my beating was in our house's second floor, so I thought of heading to our small attic in search for protection because there's no way in hell I'm heading outside. Also, father hates the attic. I reached for the ceiling door, but it was too high up.

Father: "DON'T YOU RUN AWAY FROM ME YOU PRICK! I'LL MURDERIZE YOU!"

I panicked as I heard the man who will bury his fist into my eyelids if I don't pick up the pace howl like a wolf. Rushing to find something that would help me reach the trapdoor on the ceiling, adrenaline becomes my best friend as it helps me push the nearby desk. As expected, I'm within reach of the entrance of a safe haven. As I traversed the small yet storage-filled attic, I spotted my father's-

Father: "Got you."

My heart rate spiked as he nabs my shoe. I attempted to crawl forward back into the room, but it's no use.

Gray: "No! Don't! Let go of m-"

Before I knew it, I got dragged from beneath the leg and thrown down into our first floor. I writhe in pain, but tried to stand. My heart raced even faster when I realised that I'm in close vicinity with my goal to survival; a gun. Dad's gun to be exact, but it's mine now. Fathers are supposed to care, to protect, to teach, and of course, to love.

My dad died a while ago.

I used my left hand to grab the gun on the floor, and waited for the monster of the night to face me. I opened the barrel of the revolver to check if it was loaded, I couldn't believe my luck. I also couldn't believe what I was about to do, but do I really have a choice? Yeah. I made up my mind of it about a minute ago. These cuts, bruises, wounds, and tears will all be history. I cocked the weapon as he approached me by the stairs with a letter opener.

But I hadn't fired yet. He was not looking at me. I wanted my anger to be the last thing he sees before he bites the dust. Hell, can he even see me in this dark room? The lining of the moonlight that loomed through our window isn't even helping. I then noticed I can't see him too, not anymore. Eventually though, I've recovered a tad from the fall and knowing my own house, I reach for the light switch.

Gray: "Hey, old man."

I weakly say before enabling the lights.

Father: "What?!"

He finally sees me and the end of the barrel. A deadlier barrel than the one he tried to drown me in, blinded by the light and by my glare.

Gray: "Goodbye."