Peter Pan OUAT One-Shots/Imagines

Lethal Injection (x Reader)

Warnings: Language, violence, slavery, and, um... it's somewhat horrifying at the start. Yeah, I guess that's how I would describe it. Disturbing would also be a fitting adjective. You'll see what I mean. If you're worried, don't read it. I upset myself when I wrote it because I had to do a little research and read some really dark stuff, so just proceed with caution and know that it only gets worse, so if you want to stop reading, you should.

Request for BubblePops19275

When I was little, my mother told me that you should always be kinder than you felt because you never know what other people are going through. Certain things were considered kind, and other things were not.

A brief pause for a short, incomplete list of kind things:

1. Sharing.

2. Saying please and thank you.

3. Cleaning up my plate after dinner.

A slightly longer, though still unfinished list of things that are not considered kind:

1. Taking things without permission.

2. Pulling people's hair.

3. Breaking things.

4. Hiding other kids' toys at daycare.

I was fairly certain that stabbing a family member repeatedly in the chest, stomach, and back with a steak knife for thirty minutes deep enough to cause extreme pain but not deep enough for her to die quickly while laughing at the pained, strangled sounds she made until the light went out in her eyes would have been considered unkind, but it wasn't like my dying mother could punish me for it.

When she went still, I tossed the steak knife aside and frowned at myself. I was covered in blood that was soaking into my brand new jeans. Irritated at her for making me get all dirty, I kicked my mother's head. Unfortunately, she didn't make any funny sounds. Damn. Maybe I should have been slower.

Unsatisfied, I stepped over her and went upstairs to take a shower. When I opened the door to my bathroom, I stopped. My little sister was laying in the tub, throat slit, and eyes blank. Right, I forgot I put her there yesterday. I'd have to use the other bathroom. I was pretty sure my older brother wasn't in that bathtub.

"I left him in his room, didn't I?" I wondered aloud. It was hard to remember. The day had been very eventful between the newest episode of my favorite show coming out and murdering my mother.

Honestly, I was surprised it took this long for me to get it done. She'd been tied up in the basement for at least a month and I'd been taking my time disposing of my family members. You know, like how you savor a delicious cake? Well, I wanted to savor their deaths.

Human deaths were just so fun. I'd gotten bored of animals earlier this year after I drowned our puppy in the lake (which I was able to say I knew nothing about) and put the cat in the washing machine, listening to her meow for a whole hour. That, I could say was an accident. (Fluffy just climbed in with the laundry, I didn't see her, really!)

Microwaving my one-month-old brother was a little more fun after the pets- though that only lasted ten minutes- but then the rest of the family came home from my big brother's basketball game and got all scared. My father tried to call the cops because it was hard to play that off as a mistake. Of course, I didn't let him get the police involved. I strangled him with an electrical cord, forced the rest of my family into the basement, tied them all to a support beam, and left them for a week.