Posing For A Picture | Radiostatic

† | Chapter Ten | †

† | CHAPTER TEN | †

† | DEAD MEN WALK AGAIN | †

Everything felt still.

But Alastor wasn't weak in this moment, he wouldn't tolerate this. He was afraid, no doubt, but showing it was simply against his whole schtick.

"What do you want, father?"

He asked, pulling his way out of the man's grip. He knew very well who it was.

"Don't be stupid. I don't appreciate your ignorance." The man spat, before getting out a little bell and ringing it. Alastor's ears flopped and he quickly moved his hands to cover them. "What a pleasant sound. Reminds me of my early days, how thoughtful."

"Yes. The dinner bell." The man explained, setting it on the countertop. Alastor shuffled, sitting upright and fixing his clothes.

"The last thing you heard, I do believe. Or was it the blood gushing out of your neck and your pathetic cries for mercy?"

The static in Alastor's voice was thick as he said this, clear disgruntlement on his expression. "Watch your tone, boy. I kept you housed and fed the least you could've done was not kill me. But I'm over that now." Alastor's father said, watching as the bartender cleaned up the drinks. "Certainly. Another glass, please." Alastor mumbled, looking towards the bartender and running his thumb over the ring underneath his glove.

"Yes, well, I don't remember crying out for mercy." The man huffed, before running his fingers over his neck and feeling the deep gashes and cuts that had been frantically stabbed into him before death.

"You really went all this way for my mother's ring, didn't you?"

There was a slight pause.

Now that Alastor was an adult they could handle this like civilized people... But he really didn't want to. With all that he was, he wanted to stand and kill this man all over again.

"Of course. Besides, I'm the one that gave it to her-" He started. Alastor clenched his teeth for a second but stopped once he spoke. "And shes given it to me. Therefore, it is no longer yours. So please, leave me to my drinks."

The man sighed, standing up and walking behind Alastor as he got his drink. A chill ran up his spine but he didn't move or look back, he simply took a drink of his wine but before Alastor could swallow, he felt two hands on his shoulders. He blinked and stilled as the slight shuffle of the man movie triggered his ear to turn and listen.

"You know... You used to be such a good kid..."

He paused, his hands beginning to slide Alastor's jacket off his shoulders. "But then you got that little boyfriend of course, you became overconfident." Alastor took another sip of his drink, ensuring that his jacket wouldn't come off of his arms. His father's hands tracked back up to his shoulders and he heard him continue. "But what else could I expect. You never were that spectacular. You never wanted to go hunting, you never wanted to play sports, you never wanted to be a man, all you wanted to do was sit at home and sew with your mummy. You cooked, you cleaned, you were a walking rug ready to be stepped on." The man hissed, his claws digging into Alastor's shoulders and stabbing through his clothes. "You look so much like her, and yet you're just as cold as I am. Tell me, does it hurt to know that she wouldn't be proud to see what you've become?" He chuckled, watching Alastor's grip tightening on the glass. He took another sip, but he didn't move, not yet. Not a word came out of his mouth but his heartbeat quickened at the talk of his mother. "You have nothing to say. Tell me this then, does that little boyfriend of yours still love you?"