Lester, 52, "Wrath"

[One Hour Prior: Fletchlin Fields]

///

"I'd never." The Grinner boy said, a bastard's mug along his goddamned face. "Have a good night, Mr. Fletchlin."

That boy, Amson Grinner, has brought nothing but terror to this household, yet Tora, with her immature nature, still has a curse of forgiveness, unable to hold onto the hatred she should most harness. As her father, I can but pity the poor thing, but in my house, I will not be stepped over. The look on Grinner's face was the same as it'd always been, a iron sheet that was as fickle as mâché-- boy, I hated looking at that smile.

Arrogant, selfish, and, most potently, a pathological liar that'd don any face in order to get what he wants. I promised I'd never allow that boy around my daughter again, yet there he was, even following my daughter up to her bedroom. Better yet, he meant to make a bitch of me in my own house... Ooooh-- if Tora hadn't stopped me I woulda gutted him dead and rubbed his essence across the walls.

As the door closed behind that monster child, my eyes raised to Tora, my darling girl, a look of indecisiveness on her face. I should have comforted her, but my anger had long since gotten the best of me.

"What the hell was that, T?" I said, waiting for her to look me in the eye.

She was still as a brick, and I could tell her mind wandered underneath that stationary exterior. What had that son of the devil done to her?

"Tora!" I yelled, finally snapping her from her delusion.

That 'delusion' was something I often saw her in; it was as if she weren't in touch with reality anymore. Spacy wasn't a word I'd use to describe my daughter, more troubled and fragile. Despite the strong woman she's grown to be, I have my worries for her.

Still, I have to be harsh with her, regardless of the hurt I bring to my soul.

She looked at me, dazed but there. A long look filled her beautiful face, guilt filling it in its entirety.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy." She said, wrapping her arms around herself as if it were freezing. "I didn't know."

I could do nothing more when met with that look, and my anger subsided in an instant, my body moving toward hers through sheer instinct. I lifted my sorry ass from the leather couch and met her where she stood, embracing her to rid her of that cold feeling I knew she felt.

"No." I said, gently rubbing her red hair, the same hue as her mother's. "Don't you cry, sweetheart. It hurts me seeing your precious smile disappear."

"Amson..." Tora whimpered, fighting through sobs. "He's trying; I can tell, daddy."

"Though it hurts you so much, you're still so kind. That is admirable, dear. But..." I paused, bringing her closer to myself. "He's a lost boy. His heritage is what did him in."

Tora pushed me away, and I stood, stunned.

"How could you say that?!" She yelled. "You act like he's not human!"

"His intentions are primal, T." I growled, fighting my anger. "He'll only hurt you more if you give him the chance. If you insist on defending him, he'll only step over you, in one way or another."

I saw as the anger within her rose, and she lost all semblance of my daughter, the joyful soul I'd raised with her mother.

"You're sick." She spat at me, her eyes trained into mine.

Even looking in those eyes, the eyes that her mother and I'd created, something within me snapped, and I was unable to control my anger anymore. The thing I'd loved the most, with so much passion and untapped potential, looked at me with such a ferocity that tears fell from my eyes, my loving wrath overbearing.

"Don't you understand, Tora?!" I yelled, pushing the furniture between us aside. "I'm trying to protect you, goddammit! He wants to use you, abuse you for everything a woman's worth."

"Am I just worth my sex, dad?!" Tora challenged. "Is that all you think I'm worth?"

"I'm saying that he is lying to you, Tora! Have you listened to a single word I've said to you?! Your body is all that fucker wants, and he'll trample over anything, even himself, to get it. Somewhere within that boy, the man that he'd never show you, he's got you pinned for a fool, Tora! What don't you understand?! Have you not learned your lesson from that demon already?!"

"Who are you to tell me anything about anyone I decide to talk to?! Not to mention, you nearly made yourself a murderer, today!"

Tora pushed me back with her finger, the light that I knew her for fading completely as she forced me backward. I'd never seen such adamance for something, much less another person, but I wouldn't back down from this, not in a million years. She continued, only fueling the anger within me.

"Whether his intentions were bad or not, you threw the first punch, almost at the cost of everyone in this house, dad!" She hollered. "If you don't see what you've already done nor what you could've done to the livelihood that we built, I don't want to talk to you anymore!"

Tora stopped pushing me, attempting to calm herself as I felt something swelling within her throat, ready for release. I could never have prepared myself for those words.

"I only see one demon in this house, and that's you!"

My mind went blank, without thought or feeling. Only god could have known what had happened to me once those words hit my skin, for I'd forgotten the feeling. It was as if I was struck dead in that moment, yet only one thing lingered with my soul as I stood, a hollow shell of a man; my wrath.

It exploded within a split moment, leaving myself standing above Tora's form, her anger suddenly turning to that of dread. She froze, and as I regained control, I noticed my position. My fist raised, something halted my movement from multiple angles, escaping my vision. A sharp object was pressed to both my throat and left leg, and I saw Dick stand before me, looking me dead in the eyes.

"What do you think you're doing, Lester?" He said, his voice as if he were talking to a stranger. "I wouldn't move."

Those eyes were the same as that wretched boy's, dead with taunting indifference. It was as if he could see what would've happened the instant I moved, and that dastardly smile welcomed me back to reality.

Thanks to Grinner, I'd made myself a stranger in my own household.

///

'I'm a failure as a father.' I thought, holding the worn karambit of my late mother.

It still had the same nicks and dents it had since I was a child, but the stains on the tip were new, occasionally needing to be made. Sometimes, I needed a reminder of who I was, my role god had sent me to this earth to play, and that punishment for one's actions befell anyone within this house; I was not exempt from responsibility. Had Nate and Tommy not held those knives so close to my skin, who knows how I could have hurt her, my beautiful creation.

I pushed the tip of the blade to my skin, etching markings for each fault I believed fit the crime I'd made against my household. Scar after scar lined the better half of my arm, signifying my communion, yet never truly freeing me of the sin brought about through my untamable anger. I would never think to spare the weight of my punishment, for if I did, I'd be no better than the Grinners, babying the bane of their mind until it grows out of control.

My anger is one such bane, and I'm sure his father hasn't fully mended his. He'd better not have; I would not be satisfied seeing him live peacefully after what he'd done to me.

'Hmm...' I stopped my ceremony of repentance, a vibration creeping through the tough fabric of my jeans.

I reached within my pocket to see the phone of Grinner, a keepsake I'd never thought of letting go of. I opened the screen, reading: "4 missed calls from Baun Halm," "New notifications from 'SAI Media'", and lastly, "20 missed calls from Lore", surname excluded. The vibration had stopped, but the lingering air just from holding the phone was strange.

It rang again, this time, showing me the identification, though insignificant. It was a blank, black letter, only further establishing the name, "Lore", that was spread across the screen. Something drew me to the answer button, and eventually, as the ringing cycle neared it's end, I gave in to the temptation, answering.