"Y/N!! GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE!"
You sigh. Your father was probably just bored, and needed something to cure it. You wonder what he'd do to you today. Beat you to a pulp? Whip you? Or maybe something something more creative.
You stumble down the rickety staircase, still sore in your legs as they're covered in burns. He'd gotten drunk just a few hours ago and decided to burn your legs with the butt of a cigar.
"Took you long enough, fucking disgrace." your father snarls, spitting on the ground in front of you. "Damn you and your existence. If I'd never had you, your mother would still be here."
Your father blames you for the death of your mother. After giving birth to you, she contracted an unknown illness and the hospital couldn't do anything about it. She was a great mother, but unfortunately died when you were just 3. Your father blames you for this. He says that if you'd never been born, your mother wouldn't have gotten sick.
"Y-yes, dad?" you stammer, struggling to stand on your own two feet, "W-what do you need-"
"FUCK! DON'T CALL ME 'DAD'! I don't want to be referred as the being who created a disappointment of a child."
"B-but dad-"
*SMASH!*
You fall to the floor, clutching your head as blood streams in thick spurts down your face. Your father stands above you, half of a glass bottle of beer in his hand, the other half shattered all over the floor.
"A-argh... s-sorry sir..."
"There we go. Wasn't that hard now, was it?" he growls, leaning forward and coming closer and closer to your face. He reeks of beer and smoke.
You start to get up, but as soon as you get back onto your own two feet, you make eye contact with your father. He looks furious. He kicks you in the gut, sending you flying back onto the floor, straight into the shattered glass.
He grabs you by your throat and pushes you into the floor. You feel the minuscule shards of glass piercing your back, blood seeping through your torn shirt. Your father reaches for his pocket and pulls out a gun.
"Hah, I shoulda done this a long time ago." pointing the gun at your temple.
Mustering all the might you have left, you kick your father away, sending him and the gun flying across the room. He lands on his back, the gun landing at your feet.
He begins to stand up, almost frothing at the mouth in a fit of rage. He starts storming towards you. You clumsily pick up the gun and point it at him.
"G-get away! I-I'll shoot! I s-swear, I will!" you cry out, tears streaming down your face, the saltiness of them making your cuts sting.
"Hoho... Looks like the wimp has found her boots! I know you won't shoot. Disappointment." He continues walking towards you and suddenly...
*BANG!*
You shoot your father in the chest.
He falls back, clutching his chest. He glares at you, and then drops his torso, blood seeping in-between the gaps of his fingers.
You look at your hands, your breath trembling. You throw the gun across the room. You fall onto your knees, sobbing. He was awful, but he was still your father.
You turn around and make your way up the stairs. Then, you hear shuffling and the cock of a gun. Slowly, you turn back around.
Your father is there, standing at the foot of the stairs. He is still clutching his chest, but he holds a gun - pointed at you.
"F-fuck you.." he stammers.
"NO, NO WAIT PLEASE!"
*BANG!*
You fall back, hitting your head on the stairs, causing the skin on the back of your head to break, blood now gushing all over the stairs. Your vision goes blurry, all you see is the faded silhouette of your father, standing over you.
Then, it all goes black.
YOU ARE READING
Love for an Imp (Blitzo x female y/n fanfic)
FanfictionTW: this story will include mentions of SA, graphic depictions of death, etc. Y/N, a girl with a brutal backstory gets sent to hell after her tragic death. She meets Blitzo, the boss of a murder company called I.M.P, who takes her in and cares for...