Mischievous

🧪Acid🧪

ATTENTION: THIS CHAPTER IS IN HISOKA'S PERSPECTIVE
⚠️WARNING⚠️: THERE IS WRITINGS OF ABUSE AND VERBAL ABUSE (triggering)

After everyone left to go on their mission, I remained at the window, gazing. Something about the night being so calm, and quiet. Scarlet sat across from me, and followed my pursuit in searching the night sky for constellations. I would point to her which ones I saw, and connect the dots with my finger against the window. My head tilted against the wall, I closed my eyes.

My head trailed back to the night my parents were murdered. Where I was in the same position I was in now, seated at a window sill. I was only ten years old. It was night, and the stars were the perfect distraction from my eyes lingering at the spilt blood on the floor.

I was covered in blood. It dripped down my fingertips and across my neck. My body was numb, and I was recovering from previously blacking out. My body felt like a puppet with no strings. Just slumped against the window, searching.

The morning of, Dad was gone for three days, which was shorter than the usual time he spent away from us. I was left with my mom, for the days when he disappeared. She would find any excuse to take out all her anger on me. Sometimes she would be more gentle and just instead tell me what a "waste of space I was" or "a mistake." Her most used phrase was that I ruined her life, but that didn't bother as much as the bruises. The purple and yellow that spotted all over my body, either from my fathers fist, or from my mothers back hand. It was impressive in a way, she could use anything as a weapon. Whether it was a candlestick or a plastic trinket, the world was her oyster. Or more of, I was her oyster.

My Dad wasn't any better, but I would prefer him over her. Perhaps it's because I wouldn't see him as much as her, and he didn't have the chance to do anything to me. Except compared to her, he was less creative with his choice of weapons. Using his belt or just a glass bottle to his choosing.

When he finally came home that night, I was sitting in the corner of the kitchen. The lights were all out, except the one by the table. Being as quiet as possible, I held my legs to my chest to stop my body from shaking. It was a failed attempt, because instead my whole body just shook no matter how much I tried to forcefully stop the movement. His stomps echoed the house, following the slam of the wooden door. My mother came from the living room to start yelling at him for God knows what. Her voice was terrifying, because when she used that tone I knew what was going to come next.

He came into the kitchen with Mom behind him, slashing her arms in the air yelling in his ear. Dad pushed her away and screamed back. I just kept my head down and hoped they wouldn't notice me. I wanted to sink into the floor. I plugged my ears and just closed my eyes to shut them out.

After a couple of seconds, I felt a hand gripped my head. My dad squeezed my skull, and forced me to look him in the eyes. The tears streamed down my face, and he looked at me with so much disgust. So much regret. He slammed my head back into the wall, that created a crater size dent.

My eyes clouded to black dots mixed with green and purple, and the spots took over my vision until the darkness came over me.

And I woke up sitting up against the wall looking out the window. My body began to regain feeling, and I could eventually turn my head. Everything felt achy. My eyes kept slowly closing, and my breath was slow. Everything was so quiet. There was no yelling, words, or breaths. No signs of life. It was beautiful. My heart didn't feel like it was eternally burning from the presence of those who started the fire. When I touched my skin, it didn't feel like acid. I finally felt that I was okay to be here. I wasn't a waste nor a memorable person, I was here. I was present. I could feel who I was, and not living in a hollow body. My fingers started to move, and I felt my palm holding a thick object for my small hand. I held the knife encased in the blood of the two bodies I plunged the silver into.

Blood gave me the satisfaction I always desired. I decided that the only color I wanted to see was red.

Chrollo spoke in a questionative tone, and I opened one of my eyes in response, "There wasn't any merchandise?" He placed his book down, "Oh ho?"

...

"It's said Judas sold Jesus out for thirty pieces of silver" Chrollos eyes darted straight up. "but how much would the traitor ask from the mafia? 'What would the traitor gain by selling us to the mafia"

"Money?" Pankunda looked up at him.

...

"Glory?" Scarlet turned.

...

"Prestige?" Phinks stared.

...

"Do you truly believe that any of us cares for those things?"

He tilted his head up to the ceiling, "Did you ask the auctioneer where the merchandise was moved?

...

"Did you get the names of anyone who might know? Chrollo put his phone to his side and asked. "Scarlet, who are the ten dons and the shadow beast?"

"Our family has been hired by them before, 10 members of the largest mafia groups. They separately own each one of the six continents. They have a group called the "Shadow beast" that are suppose to take care of business." Her hand swiped the air, " There's nothing to worry about, they are all just rich idiots."

Chrollo raised his phone back to his ear and said sarcastically, "Put on a show for the "rich idiots""

♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️
Follow my account for posts on when I'm going to update🤌🏼

Remember to SLEEP AT A REASONABLE HOUR, YES IM TALKING TO U, GO TO BEDDDDD, take meds, and eattttt

Love,
Yaku♥️