「 Hell On Wheels! 」Alastor x Reader (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter I

The death I had died wasn't all that brutal. A simple bullet to the cranium and into my brain had managed to nullify all that had been processing and occurring through my mind and anatomy. Seeing the man that had laid there, the man that I had chosen to love with the entirety of my heart, had betrayed me for a woman that I had known my entire life broke my very being. I lost all my rationality and fell into complete and utter despair, my soul shattered across time and space.

Losing someone you love is one thing. But losing them and having them fall for another is an entirely different thing. Because that means that they never truly loved you. They could have snapped that switch off sooner if they wished, but they couldn't because they needed something as a substitute for what they search for. A replacement. A supplanter.

That's my view anyway. I've never looked at things on the bright side. I've been single practically my entire life, living on Earth with monochromatic vision. Not being able to live life the way anyone else would; living life in color was close to impossible. Then when I finally had met him, we just clicked, you know? He met each and every single one of my standards that I built into my mind. Tall. Muscular. Sharp jawline. Handsome. Not to mention a total sweetheart.

But he was a softie.

Naturally he fell apart the moment I had lunged at him with a knife in my hand for the upcoming murder. He was always, always too damn soft around people he loved. I manipulated that moment of vulnerability to murder him on the spot.

Now now, you may say we could have worked it out. That he claimed to have not cheated. That he really did love me so much that he actually accepted his death by murder, a murder done by my own small hands. Or that I was a totally psychotic bitch that deserved to rot in Hell, but that works too.

As for the first sentence. Yes. Yes we may have been able to work it out. Totally talk about his three year affair with his own secretary at the company he is the CEO for. I'd rather not talk about his property sliding into her property, thank you very much. But if you do that, okay. Weird flex, but okay.

The second. He did claim that he didn't cheat. I almost believed it. The way his ocean blue eyes had sparkled pleadingly in that very moment of time, full fledged with pure sadness. But I noticed how his tie was loosened. How a few buttons were unbuttoned or incorrectly paired with the slit they were supposed to be partnered with. How the hickeys were freshly placed on his damn throat. For his clothes to be so messy, had it been summer, I would have believed it was due to the heat. But it was mid-winter.

A week until Christmas.

A week until my birthday.

Third. Yes. Yes, he loved me as much as I loved him. We both cared for each other, yearned for each other, fought for each other, loved each other. He loved me. I loved him. It was perfect. When we would have arguments, it would mainly be playful about the small things. If it were serious, we would tone it down in a heartbeat and talk it out together at our local café holding hands under the table, side by side while drinking our signature orders. He liked a flat white, but I like my normal or peppermint hot chocolate.

It felt like years ago since we truly connected. We would do the same things we did, like what I listed above. But it wasn't full of the same genuine energy. He never showed any other signs than his energy drop. He showed up to work at the usual time and returned home on time or a few minutes earlier. He never had this guilty expression or aura radiating. But if he truly loved me, wouldn't he tell me he loved another? Wouldn't he tell me he fell in love with another? I would have left him if he did it civilly a few months earlier. But he got her pregnant.

And for the fourth part of the lovely questionnaire, yeah. I'm a psychotic bitch. You got a problem? I own that title. I murdered my own husband for crying out loud. I took the life of a man under our own roof then shot myself that very same afternoon. I acknowledge that title. Negatively and positively.