The Bane of Light

Unveiled

"Am I supposed to be grateful to have survived this?"
- Brenna Twohy

∞

My feet touched the ground of the freezer softly and silently, my shadows allowing me to float for a moment before gently placing me down. One foot landed, then the other, and I was standing suddenly still, the cold fog rolling around the small room.

The freezer was industrial and silver, and could also only conveniently be opened from the outside. If someone got stuck in here, they would remain stuck. I doubt they would die before someone would discover them, but it still would not be a pleasant experience. The thought made me smile.

Shelves upon shelves scaled the metal walls, covered in all kinds of products and foods. My eyes scanned the rows of produce, before finally landing on a pathetic heap in the corner, an open bucket of ice cream in front of him.

My father was passed out on the floor, his suit rumpled and jacket discarded. His brown hair had fallen into his face, and the grey whiskers on his jaw aged him exponentially. He looked young, approximately in his mid forties, but I knew he was well over one hundred years old. The same was with my mother, though she looked much younger, still in her early thirties, due to the healing elixirs she downed by the pail full. 

Storming up to my father, I gave a heaving kick to his groin, hoping to solve his infidelity problems once and for all, guaranteeing that there would be no more bastard children. Then, for good measures, I kicked his stomach, so he would be too confused by the pain to realize where the source of it was. I wished I had my metal toed wyvern-hyde  boots, with the retractable blades under the soles, so I could forever inhibit his ability to make any more messes like these. 

My father groaned In pain. When he did not rise still, I grabbed a pitcher filled with ice water from one of the metal shelves, and dumped it all over him. This time he yelped up, his breath puffing in the air around him. When he was up, I threw the rest of the water at him, the glass pitcher included, and watched in satisfaction as the good-for-nothing, adulterous, moron I was unfortunate enough to call father, flinched away from it. The pitcher shattered on the floor, spraying glass and water everywhere.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" I demanded, shouting at him. His eyes were blurry when he had first risen, but now they were sharp with alarm, knowing I would do far more than simply throw a water pitcher at him if he did not wake up. He grumbled out a sobriety spell, rubbing his bleary eyes and trying to locate himself as he rose.

"What are you talking about?" He demanded suspiciously, confused as to what I accusing him of. His beady eyes darted about the room, sharpening with each moment.  

"Wonderful! I see the dementias kicking in early!" I seethed, baring my teeth at him, before getting back to the problem at hand, "How could you?! This is mothers party!  Everyone we know is here! Everyone in magical high society! Bloody council members! And you decide this is the perfect time to introduce your tramp and your bastard daughter to the world?!" I berated him without pausing to take a single breath, "I always knew you were a worthless, good for nothing deadbeat, but I never thought you were this pathetic!"

I neared him, and he scrambled up, afraid I would throw something at him again. His eyes sharpened further, as if finally recognizing me as one of his many daughters.

"How could you do this to her? What the seven Hells is wrong with you? Bringing the fruits of your infidelity here. At her event-"

"Oh for Araw's sake-" He grumbled out at me, rubbing his hands down his face, almost  in disbelief, "This is what you've waken me up for?"