Overloading Intake Of RadioDust

What The Child Wants.

"Angelo, when you grow to be just like me I want ya to know that driving is important in our lives."

"To run over demons?"

"To run over demons!"

Angel runs over their tenth demon of the day to prove his point further, he even went as far to put the car on reverse for extra measures. The dull sound of crunches under running tires didn't seem to faze his ten years old son, who sat silently through the whole ordeal. His father's shrill laugh reverberated in his head, affecting his eardrums greatly that he involuntarily winced at the volume. They've been going on since morning, stopping at every drug vending machine they could find. Angel giving his son the privilege to destroy the thing to bits with a baseball bat, and Angelo complied half-heartedly with a small grunt. Next up, was stealing candies from children just to give them back half bitten or coated with saliva, much to the boy's discomfort. Not even that, they even went as far as throwing grenades at any orphanage they find in sight. His dad was nice enough to let him take the first throw, and Angelo absolutely hated it. He hated violence, he hated vandalism, he hated the loud and destructive ambience that always came after every destruction they caused.

It made him sick to the core.

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"Ya shoulda seen it, Halo! The whole place was blown to bits!" Angel laughed, stabbing his fork mercilessly on his steak. His youngest three year old daughter, Halo, cooes and gurgles in her high chair making grabby hands or her daddy's motioning hands. "Your brother was lucky for the first throw! He took down almost ten children in one room! Boy, am I proud of him!" He nudged the boy beside him who only stared blankly at his dinner, no intention to touch his food, not after spilling hundreds of blood in his hands. Those innocent souls, who did nothing but begged and wandered around the cold streets to find a living, they didn't deserve such a cruel death. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn uncomfortably that he quickly took his eyes away from his plate. The red sauce trickling down the meat was enough to rise the burning bile in his throat.

"Thanks, dad..."

"Hey, cheer up!" Angel wraps an arm around his son to pull his close, grinning down at him like a madman, "tomorrow'll be a big day! In fact, I think it's time I teach you how to hold a gun."

"You already taught me how to brandish one."

"You're right, maybe I was being too easy on ya." He smirks, pulling out a revolver to slam it against the table then slides it in front of the boy. "Better rest up, boy. Tomorrow's the day I take you deer hunting." Angel concluded with a playful ruffle on the head, his red and white strands clouding his vision as he listens to his dad's footsteps disappearing upstairs. He sighed, slowly taking the gun in hand warily. He didn't know whether he should feel sad or scared, he's seen how much of a maniac his father is when he's in the battlefield. It's not that he hates their bonding activity, he really appreciate that his dad is just trying to mend the broken pieces with him and his sister. He's never seen his dad so happy before, it made something inside of him feel fuzzy and warm just looking at the man his father turned out to be when he's out of his cacoon.

Sure, his way of bonding is certainly bogus but as long as the older's happy he might as well make an exception. The last time he remembered staying here, in this small quaint cottage somewhere in the outskirts of town, was when he was still five and that his other father, Alastor, was still with them at the time.