Daughter of the Radio Demon: The Lilting Huntress (Father Figure! Alastor × OC)

05: Familiarity

(1 year and a half ago...)

⚠️ WARNING!!⚠️ Mentions of gore, death and murder. Kindly scroll to the next chapter/other chapters if you feel uncomfortable with these topics. You have been warned.

Slash, slash, slash.

The horrid sound of a knife slashing against human flesh rang throughout the dark alley, yet no witness was there to call it out. Its victim is laid lifeless, with his face bruised and cut beyond recognition and organs spilled out accompanied by a pool of blood. Lacerations covered what was left of his body like a blanket. It was a nauseating sight to see even for those with the strongest stomachs, but for the wielder of the knife it was pure entertainment and joy.

"See you in hell, Thomas." The killer whispered, a wicked grin upon her face.

That cursed man finally got what he deserved. Retracting the completely bloodied knife from his chest, she licked the blade in satisfaction and insanity, chuckling like a maniac. "Foolish man."

It wasn't her first kill, no. And it certainly won't be her last. Despite the heinous act, she enjoyed the adrenaline rush and the pitiful cries and screams of mercy her victims would make. But alas, they were all in vain, for mercy was never shown to those wretched, dirty scumbags who preyed on young women like her.

Oh, how oblivious was Thomas the has-been, thinking that he could do what he wanted to her as though she were a harmless, innocent little cub, when she was in fact a dangerously fierce and hungry lioness who sought revenge for her pride. Revenge, served deliciously in a bloody platter.

Those disgusting imbicels hunted down her friends, touched, defiled and killed them without remorse. Big, big mistake. Now, the light of day will be snuffed out from their sight as the tables turn. What a lovely sight it was!

The killer put her knife away after cleaning it with the clothes of her victim, her grin growing wider each second. Ridding all evidence of her presence, she stood back up to her feet.

"Another job well done, Aria." She laughed to herself. "A perfect way to celebrate a belated Christmas."

The young woman smiled gleefully without a care of the world. Sighing and putting her hood on, she made sure no one was around before resuming her journey back to her home.

Aria made her first kill at the young age of 17, when a middle-aged man dared to lay a hand on her. A well-deserved brutal ending to that good-for-nothing waste of oxygen, she said to herself. After his unfortunate yet deserved death, Aria's insanity got the best of her as a one time thing turned into a crazed obsession.

Keeping these murders a secret was a struggle, especially against a prestigious college. She had a reputation to hold as a scholar, after all, and was the perfect straight-A student in the eyes of her peers. Now, at the age of 20, a post-graduate and known as an unknown serial killer, her heart has long been frozen, emotionless and cold towards those who failed to show just a little more respect to those of fairer means.

Hastily turning the keys to her front door, Aria quietly snuck inside her little house and washed her knife. Slumping down on the couch after a long, comfortable shower, she turned on her antique radio and listened attentively to it.

She found it in the attic of her house, and she grew to absolutely adore the old broadcast that aired from it. The host died many years prior to the present, yet his charismatic tone always livened up Aria's day, even after a kill.