Disney Villains P.O.V

| Cruella De Vil |

Hiya y'all. Sorry that's I'm a bit late with this update but I was busy with other things so I couldn't post yesterday. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Cruella's story. 

Now just a little warning. Her story is a bit darker and gruesome so I'd rate it a bit mature for a younger audience. However, not by much. But you have been warned okay? 

Now please enjoy! And don't forget to vote and comment because that will determine how fast my updates come, okay? Thanks y'all!

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| Cruella De Vil |

"What are you doing, father?" I asked as I watched my father lug in a bag that squirmed and yipped.

"Nothing Cruella. Do be a doll and leave father alone to do his job," he replied as he kicked the bag. Sharp yelps squealed from the bag and I frowned slightly.

"What's in the bag?" I asked. I always knew my father was busy with work but this was actually the first time I've seen him go down towards the basement to work. He never let me near him when he went out and came back. Whatever he did must have been top secret.

"Nothing Cruella! Now leave!" he roared and I clamped my mouth shut and ran out of the room. I hid under a table in the kitchen and covered my ears and kept my eyes shut tight. Father wasn't the same since mother up and left him for reasons he won't share with me. All I know is she left as fast as she could without looking back. Not even for me.

After everything remained quiet for several long minutes, I slowly uncovered my ears and opened my eyes. It was dark in the kitchen now and only the sound of the clock ticking was heard. What was father doing so late again? I've always asked myself that but I never had the courage to actually go and find out. With father's temper problems, I didn't know what would happen so I would do as I was told and stayed away.

But since he was still not up yet, I decided to go and see what he was up to. So I quietly tiptoed to the basement doors and slowly opened it, thankful it didn't creak like most doors would in stories. I then crawled down the stairs, only halfway though, and peeked between the bars at him.

I watched how his arms went in a cutting motion and how his back muscles flexed along with it. I heard cries of animals, dogs to be precise, and smelled blood and saw clumps of hairs sitting in piles all over the room.

"That's it. Be a good dog and sit still for me. I'm only taking a little fur from you," I heard him say in a voice that didn't even sound human anymore. I shivered slightly but continued to watch intrigued.

I watched how he put the knife down and how he took a step back to reveal a naked and very dead dog on the table top.

It's skin was bloody and wrinkly and cut in ways that would make anyone sick. The only thing that was safe about the dog was its fur that my father was so carefully picking up and carrying to a machine behind the table.

I then looked at the other dogs that were locked away in cages that were rusted and tiny. They were squished together and all of them were battered and messed with. Their furs were tangly, even if they were nice, and dirtied. It looked wrong. They should be in good condition if my father is making clothes with their furs. It wouldn't do to sell bad fur clothes.

I decided to stand up and tell him that. I climbed down the rest of the stairs and walked towards him. I watched as the dogs stared at me with wide and pleading eyes, hoping for release from their dreadful prison. Even their ears were up and their tails wagging as they waited for their rescue. It made my heart hurt a little but if my father caught them, I can't very well release them.