Perseverance

Chapter Nineteen: Denial of the Ghost From the Past

"Yeah, so? Only one of us is gonna get out of here alive and it sure as fuck won't be you." I laughed.

The Painter flicked his hair out of his face and grinned, "Sorry, my sweet child. Not going to happen."

"Would you stop with that shit?! My father is dead and my step-father is a piece of crap, but you sure as hell aren't either, you joke. My dad died when he was only 27 and he had light brown hair." I exclaimed as I readied my knife.

"Your mother's name is Amanda, you're seventeen, you're [ ] [ ] [ ]. You love-"

"Anyone could acquire that information, dumbass." I growled as I charged after him.

He dodged out of the way and "tsk"ed me, "When you were three, I used to rock you and sing "Happy Together". You would always get fussy so I'd have to put you to sleep with your favorite bear- a "something" Snuggles. I know everything about you because you're my flesh. I am your father, [ ]; whether I have a new body or not. And I hate to do this, but I must kill you. I'm sorry."

"I don't trust you!" I snapped, "Whatever shit info you collected from Zalgo is in no way true! You're not my father, I am not your daughter. We're not related at all! All this is, is a really fucked up dream!"

He glared at me and set away his domineering stance.

"[ ] I don't want to have to do this either. You think I want to hurt you?!" he shouted... I could almost hear the tears in his voice, but all I could feel was a big blobby mess. I was angry for having all those memories resurfaced, the agonizing pain of losing a parent, and so much more.

"Shut the hell up! Stop it!" I screamed and started lashing at him with my small knife. He stopped me with his palm pressed against my forehead. I cried, "If you really were my father, you'd have proven it long ago. My father wouldn't have been a goon for a devil."

"But I did... I apologize for not being there for you. I died the night of Valentine's Day. I sold my soul to Zalgo so both you and your mother could live a better life. Had I known this would haunt you, I wouldn't have done any of it." the man uttered. Afterwards, I was left in an awkward and uncomfortable situation. What the fuck kind of confession was that? It wasn't real, right...? Right?!

I studied his features closely. His eyes were sullen and he seemed to be genuinely sorry. I couldn't believe my own conscience, but, I actually could see myself believing him.

"This is insane..." I whispered to myself as I paced about the mill's concrete floor. All the noise had become white static to my ears. Not even the scuffing of my shoes below stirred me out of my thoughts. Painter seemed he too had words on his mind, but couldn't quite get them off of his tongue.

I continued to pace, not letting my guard go down further than it probably had dropped. None of this made sense, yet it all made perfect sense. I know I'm in an alternate universe, but back in my world, my father was murdered by an entity called Zalgo. My father's soul was collected and his body had decayed in that world, yet his soul is living in this man's body. He looks nothing like my father; nothing, yet, he's apparently him? No, no... I need to focus on the main issue beforehand.

I pulled on his hair and exposed his throat to my blade, "Tell me where Zalgo is and I'll spare your life, you fake."

The man threw his hands up and vocally promised he'd give me all I needed, "I'll personally take you to him if you need me to, [ ]. We'll just fake my death here-"

"He probably has you wrapped around his finger or on some kind of magic leash though. He'd kill you long before we could... I'll take you hostage for now."