Number Zero; The Witch - Diego Hargreeves x OC *ON HOLD*

Number 1

The bruise was now starting to form on my cheek. No longer just a red mark, but the purple pigments were now starting to seep through my skin. At least I only walked away with a bruised cheek, the other men had broken noses, wrists, even a knee cap or a shoulder. I went lightly on them. They deserved a hell of a lot more than what I gave them.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I gently placed my fingertips on the slowly forming bruise, pressing lightly. Hissing in pain. Yep, that one is going to hurt for a while. The words the men spoke, still echoed in my head like a nightmare.

"This isn't the end!" One of the men spoke, before they ran off into the black SUV. I obviously didn't catch the number plate, but I had a feeling, with the black and white suits, and the black SUV, these men were the normal men loitering in the streets at night.

Opening the mirror cabinet hanging on the wall in my bathroom, I grabbed the painkiller gel, squeezing a pea sized amount onto my finger, before massaging onto my skin. This would help with the pain. Putting the gel away, I looked into the mirror, staring at myself, before shaking my head and turning off the light, heading straight to the kitchen. Passing the living room, I grabbed the television remote and turned it on, the screen coming to life, before I disappeared into the kitchen. After what I went through, I needed a fizzy drink and some junk food. My type of healing food. Not a tumbler of whiskey.

'Breaking News! Billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreaves has passed away...the billionaire who adopted eight children, whom all were born suddenly from mother's who weren't pregnant the previous day. The seven children he raised, became the children of the Umbrella Academy...'

My thumb and index finger were clasped around a salt and vinegar stick, paused in that moment. I just felt, stuck. Shoving the crisp into my mouth, I quickly left the kitchen and entered the living room.

It was true. He was finally dead. His old wrinkly bearded face on the television, wearing his monocle, staring right at me. My wish had finally come true. No tears fell, no heart break, just...just happiness, a smile appearing on my face.

He was dead. Yes!

I gently placed my finger on my cheek, pressing lightly, feeling the pain radiating through my skin. I wasn't dreaming. This was real.

Reginald Hargreaves was finally dead. Grabbing the television remote, I switched the channel over onto a music channel, before turning to my window in my apartment. The city sky line of Hamilton staring at me. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, staring at the screen. An email, from mom.

Not our real mom. Just a robot who cared for us, because that man never had a caring bone in his body.

Opening the email, I couldn't help but scoff. She was arranging a funeral to say goodbye to our father, which meant going back to the house. Seeing everything, the house, the people, him.

I hadn't seen him since...well I lost count. It was a long time ago. And now I would see him again. Diego. Number Two. Things ended badly between us, and we hadn't seen each other since.

Shaking my head of thought, I put my phone away. Should I go? Waste my time for an old man who took all my child hood away? Or dance and spit on his grave? Say a fuck you old man!

Yes. I would go.

Happiness spread through my body, before I headed to the bathroom to let the shower water cascade down my body, as I sung to an invisible concert in the shower. This was my type of celebration. I would phone my boss and tell her I need time off for the funeral, use my holiday up. She wouldn't be happy enough to let me go, after all, I was saying goodbye to daddy dearest.