The breath left his father's lips with the sad weakness of any old, enraged drunkard. Red seeped along Toby's bandaged hands, slithering down his arm and dribbling to the ground as another loud crunch sounded through the house. His foot came down with sickening force upon the dead man's skull, hitting it at the temple.
Wasn't it odd what adrenaline could do? How powerful it could make the weak. Shards of bone were stuck in the sole of his shoe. It was possible it had even gone through to his foot, but even if he did, he didn't feel it in the slightest.
The steak knife clattered to the ground, blood slipping into the grout in the tile and staining it. The scent of whiskey and death was heavy in the room.
A horrified shout came from behind him. His mother screeched in horror, and then ran off to the sink and vomited.
It was this that broke him from his stupor.
"...Mom? Are you okay?"
He walked into the kitchen, emotion crossing his face for the first time in the months since the accident. Tears slid down his cheeks, a worried frown plastered upon his lips.
"I'm sorry... I-I do-n't know wh-y I did it..." His voice crackled as he sobbed.
His mother wiped off her mouth and took a deep breath.
"I know he was cruel... But he was your dad, Toby. Your dad..."
"...I know..."
[Words: 238]
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A BLOODY GOOD TIME // Creepypasta x Fem. Reader
Fanfiction"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway." -Edgar Allen Poe There's only so many ways to satiate a hunger for adventure. And eventually, none truly will save for actual adventure itself. So come with me, dear...
