(daddy's little girl) (Permanently Discontinued)

chapter twenty-one (interlude)

Fizzarolli pulled the sticky patch off, blood stuck to the inside of the patch. Grimacing, he looked down at his shoulder, blood gushed from the wound.

Wincing he gently wrapped the wound up, unaware of the tall figure behind him.

"Why, hello there. My, my, you are quite the oddity. Hmm, my circus could use someone like you, but first, I need to see your act."

The figure spoke, spooking fizzarolli.

"Do you want to try out? I have another imp waiting for someone to join his act."

The figure spoke, watching as fizzarolli's eyes lit up. A smile gracing his face, nodding quickly.

"Yeah! I would love to try out."

The figure grinned moving to the side opening his limo's door for fizzarolli.

"Well then, let's get going."

Five years later
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Leaning back into the seat you bit into the pencil that was held between your fingers. Since you were turning fifteen next year, your father wanted you to get started on studying on guns, rifles. How to dispose of bodies and financials and funds.

You barely had time to hang out with your friends, vary little time to hang out with your brother.

"Psst... Y/n."

A peach colored head poked up from the window, a toothy grin on the intruder's face.

Placing the pencil down you looked over to the window.

"Striker? How did ya get all the way here from the wrath ring?"

Striker shrugged tumbling into the room, his hat falling into his lap. Striker had grown pretty quickly, his horns were long and jagged, being black with white stripes and his snow white hair was cut Short.

"I had the help of my horse, bombproof."

Striker spoke, standing up he placed his hat back on and looked out the window. Bombproof was getting big too, his name was hot and firey like his tail, and his ribs were big and thick nothing like they were before.

His eyes glowed in the dark illuminating brightly.

"Anyhow- I was wonderin' if ya wanted to go for a ride to the abandon theme park in wrath, y'know. The one that got burned down."

Striker spoke, bouncing in his heels lightly as his tail rattled behind him softly.

"Well, I can't."

You started, looking down at all the homework that laid strewn across your writing desk.

"I have all this homework to do, and on top of that, I have my flying lessons after."

A hand clasped down onto your shoulder, the grip unwavering as a hot, warm breath blew behind your ear.

"I don't really think you have a choice, y/n. Now, how about you get your jacket and shoes on, and meet me outside."

Striker spoke, moving away from your ear, heading towards your window hopping out.

Grumbling, you pushed the chair out reaching over to grab your thin jacket. Striker could be so demanding at times, but you were dying to stretch your legs and wings.

"Y/n? Where are you going? You know father doesn't like it when we leave the house without letting him know."

Moxxie cautioned, fiddling around with his fingers. His tail whipped around behind him as he looked around the room.

"Relax, I'm just going out for a little bit. Okay? I'm not going to be long."

You reassured your overly worried brother.

Slipping on your jacket you watched moxxie leave the room, his tail flicking behind.

"Ay, sugarcube! Are ya done?"

Striker half yelled/whispered, his horse chuffed, stamping the ground impatiently.

Scrunching your nose up you shoved your feet into your shoes quickly, muttering angerily under your breath.

Putting your foot down you buttoned up your jacket. Looking out the window you cringed, the fall would definitely give you a sprained ankle.

Putting one leg out the window you contemplated. If he didn't catch you, you'd end up with a sprained ankle or even a broken arm, then you'd be in real trouble when your father asked about why your limping or why your arm is brusied.

If  you took the front door out you'd either get caught by your brother, or your mother who is just like your father in some ways.

"Just jump, I'll catch ya."

Striker whispered up to you, his tail rattled as he moved bombproof under you his arms out waiting to catch you.

Your wings fluttered, why couldn't your wings work properly? If they did, you could easily get done.

Closing your eyes you slipped out the window, the breeze hitting your face as you plummeted down.

A harsh grunt left striker's mouth as his arms wrapped around you.

"I didn't think you'd nearly crush my ribs."

He muttered, out of breath as you shifted off of him.

"Shut up, you said you'd catch. You brought this on yourself."

You muttered out, watching the window that showed your father's study. The room was empty, and the fire was roaring as bits of green flacks flittered upwards.

"Let's just hurry up and get going."

You mumbled, your gaze focused on the window.

"Alright, alright. You better hold on tight, bombproof is quite the runner and enjoys jumping obstacles."

Striker warned, gripping the reins tightly as he clicked his heels against bombproof's ribs, 'causing the horse take off.

Word count 878