TRACK FOURTEEN
"executioner"
nicole dollanganger
👼🏻
1989
dan howell was sat at the kitchen table once again, messing around with one of adrian's crayons from the open box.
thud! thud! thud!
outside, his stepfather was chopping up wood like meat, and dan watched him as he swung his axe again. the chop! chop! chopping of the wood glorified his stepfather's muscles, and he was obvious that the pretty little carmen dan had seen in miss grant's crumpled polaroid hardly stood a chance against him. with every swing of the axe, dan wondered how many times carmen had begged his stepfather to stop as he tore away her angel wings.
he snapped the red crayon in his hand, which crumbled and stained the virgin white tablecloth red.
after watching the axe fall a little while longer whilst thinking about girls with blue hair ribbons screaming to high heaven, dan glanced at the clock.
3:05.
brushing away the crumbled crayon, dan scraped back the kitchen chair to grab his jacket from the armchair.
"hey, hey."
dan's stepfather threw the axe to the overgrown grass with a light thud! and wiped his forehead as he came into the kitchen.
"where'd you think you're going, boy?"
one.
"...no!..."
two.
"...no!..."
"out," dan said, with his eyes on the axe by his stepfather's feet.
three.
"...no!..."
"where? look at me when i talk to you."
" 'm going to pray."
the front door had slammed shut with a click! behind dan before his stepfather could stop him, even they both knew that was a lie; even though dan was really on his way to meet the devil who had in a white school shirt and a switchblade in his pocket and lips like lavender velvet.
thud! thud! thud!
as dan went down the garden path, the axe started singing its song again. the bruised brunet dug out his headphones from his jacket, and started to play phil's mixtape. the thud! thud! thudding of the axe in his back garden reminded dan of the headboard in phil's bedroom, so he smiled softly to himself as he walked the long way from the front of his house back around to the woods.
dan breathed in the smell of sex clinging to his crumpled school shirt that his stepfather had failed to notice, which was unlucky for him, seeing as his stepfather would've jumped at the chance to spill boy's tears and wash away the sin! sin! sin!
walking through the trees with his hands in his coat pockets and mind in the slip of heaven phil lester's unholy hands had painting for him the night before, dan howell felt almost at peace. he felt oddly comforted, just as he did when he saw phil lester emerge from the ghostly white trees.
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ANTICHRIST | phan ✔️
Fanfiction"gay and psychotic; we're enough to make god cry." in which a boy with a face like an angel and dreams like the devil meets satan in black denim who chainsmokes and hates the world completed!
