Prey of Hell || Alastor x OC

3 || Distant Dream

TW: Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse

The entertainer's life was a stage where she was constantly performing, consequences persistent when she let that performance fall through. No one knew her, not who she was and not her real name. No one knew her exact age, no one knew her family or if she had even had one. No one knew if she felt no emotions or too many. Not a single living soul was even aware that she was performing.

The short woman stood in front of the cracked mirror, tracing her delicate fingers across the shattered glass. The feeling of the cool glass against her fingertips distracted her for a moment, swiftly being brought back into reality by the clean cut of skin on her pointer finger. She recoiled, holding her finger close to her as she whispered profanities. The blood cascaded down towards her palm, slowly dripping down to the floor.

This pain brought her back into reality and she observed the room she was in. It was the backstage of a circus, relatively creepy statues of animals decorating the hard concrete floor. The mirror was surrounded by a gold frame and the walls were pale. The woman took a step back, her eyes falling back to the bleeding cut on her finger. She let out a long sigh as she heard approaching footsteps and the loud sound of a door opening with aggression.

A tall man flung the door open, yelling multiple different swears at the young lady whose clothes looked to be one of a ringleader. What was he saying?

A mist appeared to crowd into the room and create a cool atmosphere, providing a sense of stability in the backstage that was never present before. Everything seemed out of touch, like she was off in the distance watching herself get scolded by the older man for whatever reason.

Her eyes closed and opened until she could comprehend what he was saying. Something about her act not being eye-catching enough, about it not being entertaining enough, about it being boring. Boring. She thought of herself as the farthest thing from boring, but here this man was, telling her the opposite.

His voice was stern and loud, pointing out every little mistake she made. From the main point of the lecture, sparing a bunny before the show, to the pace of her footsteps as she flowed around the stage like running water. God forbid she think about another creature besides herself for once because a performer was supposed to be selfish. An excellent performer was one who only cared about themselves and their own act rather than someone else's, especially another's life.

The man progressively got more aggressive, his anger only growing for she had yet to respond to any of his complaints. He assumed she was just playing the quiet game, shutting down and protecting her own feelings. He stepped closer and closer, his voice getting louder and louder. He lifted his right arm and grabbed her shoulder, shoving her down to the ground with a fire burning in his eyes. The woman fell back and gave no reaction to the sudden impact, not letting him get any satisfaction from his actions.

He huffed and more harmful words strung from his mouth and flew directly to her ears, yet they bounced back to him. He was loud, yelling about how if she were to be a ringleader she needed to learn how to do her job accordingly. She needed to be selfish, she needed to be reprimanded for giving another day of life to such a helpless creature of prey. One that did not deserve life and was only to be fed to a predator. Such was the life of a rabbit.

The tall man growled once more at the lack of response from the woman on the ground. He pulled back his leg and swung it forth at her into her ribs, causing her to release a breath she had no idea she had been storing deep inside of her. Then she laughed. When she laughed, she laughed hard. Her voice was nowhere near as loud as his and there was a certain instability in her voice that caused him to recoil. "The bunny simply escaped, you're a fool!" She laughed uncontrollably, earning a disgusted look from the man.