Sanders Sides Oneshots and Short Stories

(insert creative title)

Not requested.

Ship(s): None

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warning(s): Abuse, intoxication, gore

Summary: Uhhh so this is really just a snippet from another story I'm rewriting, so I figured I'd just post it. You probably need context but it's too early for this-

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Crash!

Virgil jerked awake, sitting up with a gasp. Mel yawned and blinked at him from the dashboard.

Crack!

"What is that?" Virgil whispered, as to not wake the others. Roman and Logan slept side by side, while Patton curled up in the passenger seat.

Mel stretched and stood, smoky tail waving. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Virgil looked outside his window to find the house closest to them had all their lights on. The curtains were only partially closed, revealing a horrible scene within.

//Scene: the place where an incident in real life or fiction occurs or occurred.\\

A man stood over someone, half a broken bottle in hand, face flushed with fury and intoxication. He was shouting and yelling, waving the bottle around angrily. There was a teenager crouching before him, holding his hands up as if to ward him off. He was trembling, fear shining in his eyes.

"I give ya a roof over yer filthy head and yet ya continue to be a freak!" the man snarled. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YA!"

The bottle smashed against the opposite wall, showering the teen with glass shards.

That was the last straw. Virgil swung open the door and ran up to the house, Mel following closely. He knocked loudly on the front door, and listened as everything went quiet. He heard a faint sob, which quickly cut off. The lock clicked. The door swung open.

The man sneered down at him. "Scram, kid."

Virgil met his glazed stare with his own harsh gaze. "I don't think I will." He pointed, and Mel eagerly lunged at the man, his body suddenly expanding and growing until he was no longer the size of a house cat, but rather, a tiger. He bowled the man over, shadowy paws pressing his shoulders into the floor.

"Nighty-night," Mel growled. And with that, he swiped his sharp claws and shredded his throat. Blood spurted from the wound and the man choked, fingers scrabbling to staunch the flow. Mel chuckled darkly as he bled out, staining the carpet red. The man gurgled, twitched, and finally stilled.

//Spurt: to gush out in a sudden and forceful stream.\\

Virgil stepped over the body and closed the door behind him. The teen was kneeling in the corner, picking glass out of his hair with shaking fingers.

"Hello?" Virgil called, in hopes of not startling him.

The teen flinched and whipped around so he was facing Virgil.

Virgil stopped and stared in surprise.

The left side of his face was covered in green scales, and one eye was yellow and slitted, like a snake. His terrified gaze darted over to the corpse, where Mel had curled up and set his head on his paws.

//Scale: each of the small, thin horny or bony plates protecting the skin of fish and reptiles, typically overlapping one another.\\

"Y-You kill-killed hi-im," the teen stammered. Tears glistened in his eyes and dripped down his cheeks, and he was obviously holding back sobs. "Wh-Why di-did you ki-ill him-?" He started to cry. He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

Virgil quickly walked over and knelt beside him. "Shh, shh. Hey, it's okay-"

The teen leaned into him, a clear request for comfort. Virgil wrapped his arms around the guy and let him sob, waiting until he gathered himself and wiped away the tears.

"I'm Virgil," he introduced. "I saw him hurting you, and I couldn't just let him get away with it."

"I'm so upset that he's dead," the teen said, while also shaking his head vigorously.

"What?"

He swallowed. On the nearby table was a notepad and pen, which he grabbed and quickly wrote a few words.

Pathological liar.

//Pathological: involving, caused by, or of the nature of a physical or mental disease; compulsive; obsessive.\\

"That's you?" Virgil questioned. He received a nod. "So everything you say is a lie?"

"Never," the teen said, nodding. "My name is Dee."

"It isn't?" Virgil asked, already confused.

"I mean my name is Daniel," the teen said. "You can call me Damien."

Virgil sighed. "I'll just call you Dee."

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