Kith and Kin ✔️

31. Noxious Nostalgia

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter revolves around our antagonist who had an abusive past and is graphic. So if you're sensitive or have PTSD, just skip through this. Summary in A/N.

"Shut up!" The man slapped his wife who was crying hysterically now. The 12-year old standing next to them was screaming and shouting for help but no one wanted to interfere. The man was crazy and beating his wife and son was something he did everyday.

"Stop! You will kill Ma!" The boy shouted at his father who didn't pay any attention to him.
The man's hands were now stained with the blood of his wife but he didn't care about any of it.

"Stop." His hands instantly froze as he heard his employer's authoritative voice filled with anger.
"Sir..." The man's voice trailed off as he saw his employer clench his fists.

'If I was Mayer, he wouldn't have been this scared' he smirked as images of the time when he was in place of that boy flashed through his mind.

*******

He was only eleven when his father gave him his first art lesson. He still remembered that day clearly. The musical voices his mother made, he still smiled whenever he remembered them.

The eleven year old him had felt weird looking at his mother who sitting backwards on a chair. Her arms and legs were tied and her shirt was torn from behind. As he walked closer to her he noticed that she smelled disgusting. It was the same smell his father carried when he came back after spending a night with his friends.

He jumped a bit when his father entered the room holding something small in his hands. The boy was curious about what was about to happen.

"Why is Ma all tied up Pa?" The boy asked in a soft voice. Even though he didn't like his mother a lot, he didn't feel good looking at her like this.

His father grinned and walked closer to him.
He crouched down to his height and spoke in the soft tone he always used with him.
"Boy, what you think about art? Do you like it?"

"I like drawing but my art teacher is a meanie."
The grin was intact on his fathers' face.
"Well don't worry today I'm going to teach you a new form of art. Something your teacher doesn't even know about."

"Okay Pa." He was very excited for this. He had always liked learning new things, especially from his father. His father had taught him to kill small animals with different and creative ways and he could now easily shoot an apple sitting on top of his mother's head in a single turn using his small fake gun.

"Come here, boy." They both walked towards the table placed next to his mother. She seemed to be sleeping now.
On the table he saw some of the most beautiful knives and blades. All of them were equally amazing but there was one that caught his eye. It was a small curved blade, the handle was black with small silver spikes on the end. He picked it up and heard his father chuckle.

"Excellent choice son." He was proud of himself now. "Now listen, this is different from the meaningless lines you draw on your sketchbook. Remember once you draw something on your skin, it can not be erased so be careful and watch me. Then I'll give you a chance to show me your skills."

The boy only nodded in response. His father didn't like it when he interrupted him during a lesson. He had made that mistake once and still had scars to prove how bad his father could get.

His father took the blade from his hand and placed a chair behind his mother. He motioned for him to come closer and cut the cloth coming in his way. He felt a little bad remembering his mother saying that this was her favourite shirt.