Join Us (Wilford Warfstache x Reader)

Remorse

Years Ago

"Y/n, just push it into his stomach. You'll get a prize if you do" My father said.

"I-I don't want to..." I replied with tears in my eyes "It's wrong."

"It's only wrong if you think it's wrong. Just stab him and be done with it."

He pushed me towards the scared man who was tied up in a chair. Why does he want me to do this? I don't want to... This man has a life of his own, possibly a family! I looked down at the knife in my hand as images of my father murdering people flashed before my eyes. I don't want to be like him. I started crying as my father came up behind me and lifted my shaky hand that held the knife.

"Here, I'll guide you once more, but after this you have to do it on your own."

He forced me to walk forward as the man grew antsy and struggled to be free of the ropes that bound him to the chair. My father brought my hand closer and closer to the man's stomach. I tried to fight against his strong grip on my hand, but that got me no where. He slowly penetrated the man's skin as he struggled even more to be free, but that only caused him more pain. Once the knife was in the man fully, my father started to twist the knife as the man screamed through clenched teeth. The screams, the terrible screams... They always come back to haunt me. My father then removed the knife roughly and grabbed a saw from behind him where all of his tools were, putting that into my hand as he took the bloodied knife away from me. He positioned the saw on the man's arm and then he helped me move it with his other hand while still holding onto mine. He moved it from left to right over and over again until the man's arm hit the ground. He helped me saw off the man's other limbs and then he gave me the knife again, but this time he positioned it at the man's throat.

"We'll slit his throat now, okay?"

I didn't answer, I just let my father move the knife smoothly along his throat as the man started to make choking sounds. Blood came out of his mouth and he soon stopped struggling seeing as he had died. My father let go of my hand and picked up the man's remains to dispose of them. It was a long process, but I just stood there in shock. I just killed that man. I could've tried to stop my father, I could've tried harder, but I didn't... I'm sorry for the man and for the people who cared for him.

"Oh lighten up, you'll get the hang of it eventually." My father said, as he patted me on the back "One day you'll find joy in this."

I let my father's words sink in. I hope I never find joy in this.

Present Day

I stood in an old warehouse towering over yet another lifeless, mutilated body. This time it wasn't my father's doing, it was mine, but I still cried like I always have. I don't like this lifestyle. The worst part about it was that I knew everything about the women I just murdered. My father said doing research on the person beforehand makes the "game" funner. It doesn't though.

"Stop crying for God's sake. You've been doing this since you were thirteen, it shouldn't bother you anymore." My father said.

"You make it s-sound so easy, d-don't you? Well, it's n-not as easy as you s-say it is..." I sobbed as I wiped away my tears.

"It is! It's been fifteen years. Fifteen years! You're twenty-eight at this point and you still cry and cry and cry. Why? Everyone dies one way or another."

"But I'm ending it for them! I don't want to! Don't make me do this anymore, I want to live a normal life!" I pleaded.

"And this is why you're still living with me... You'd probably get me arrested if I ever let you leave."

"Damn right I would!"

"Shut up!" He said, clearly irritated "Dispose of the body and then we'll go home, your killing game is still a little weak."

"That's because I don't want to kill people..." I mumbled underneath my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

I cleaned up the mess I had made and I disposed of the body properly. I hate this job. When I was done we headed to my dad's car a few blocks away and when I got in he handed me fifty bucks. Then, he drove in the direction of our house.

"You would've gotten a lot more money if you actually did your job right." He said.

"I did do it right, she's dead like you wanted, but money doesn't mean anything to me. Their lives do."

"Just stop with that, you can't have that attitude when killing people, it brings ya down."

I rolled my eyes and then stared out the car window. I really do wonder what it'd be like to live a normal life and have a normal family. We soon arrived at our home and my father rushed me inside so he could hurry up and lock the door. The door has like a hundred locks on it just to keep me inside. I'm never allowed out unless it's with my dad.

"Go to your room, I'll call you for dinner in a little while, but until then you stay in your room, got it?"

"Yup."

"Good, now leave my sight"

I walked upstairs and into my bedroom. I turned on a lamp that sat upon my desk and then I sat down on my bed. Staring at these four walls all day gets boring. I'm always stuck in this tiny, dark room with barely any light, especially since my dad boarded up my windows AND locked them. My windows are the only ones that are boarded up in the house though. Of course, I could watch movies or listen to music if I wanted to, but that gets boring after a while too. I sighed and then laid down on my bed. What a terrible life I live... The families of the people I've killed are probably seeking revenge or looking for answers but if any of them found me and wanted me dead, I'd accept it.