genre: horror, gore, psychological thriller, ni-ki-centric, non-idol, au, slasher, oneshot
synopsis: my brother was too beautiful for this world.
tw/cw: major character death, implied mental disorders, psychosis, disturbing themes, implied murder, delusions, blood
word count: 263
author's note: did this SUPER impromptu while trying to decide on a collect book cover. please be a responsible reader! if i missed any warnings, let me know!
When my brother was three, he started playing with the blocks I'd grown out of. He'd shove them everywhere but the right shape and watching them fly out of his hands. He'd giggle, I'd laugh.
"Don't put the blocks in your mouth Ni-ki! It's dirty!" I'd say.
He'd stare at me like I grew two heads but spit the green star out eventually.
—
When my brother was five, he started going to kindergarten. He held my hand in a vice-grip all the way there. He cried when I left. I came back in a rush.
"I'm here, little guy," I told him, wiping his tears. "I'm not leaving."
The teacher would give me looks for missing my own classes during the first few days but Ni-ki would run to my table at the back after every activity and show me his work with a proud smile. That made everything worth it.
I bought him a picture book to help him start reading. He'd never want to put Peter Pan down.
—
When my brother was seven, he began to play with guns and swords. He'd pretend he was Peter and I was Wendy. He'd playfight and I'd be rescued from the evil Captain Hook. Mother would laugh, teasing that he was short. He'd sulk for being little, but never for too long.
"I'll grow up!" he'd declare. "Just you wait and see."
"But if you grow up, you won't be able to play Peter Pan with me," I play pouted at him. He pursed his lips in thought for a moment before grinning.
"Then I won't grow up. I'll just grow bigger!"
—
When my brother was ten, he took an interest in art. He'd paint in my room while I curled up with a book. He had a sketchbook of my portraits. I still keep them.
"These are impressive, Ni-ki!" I'd tell him. He'd have the widest, goofiest grin on his face before diving down onto the bed next to me just to snuggle while I look at his works.
"I tried using charcoal for this one," he told me. "But I couldn't really get the shading right. I think I can do better. Your hair's a little long to be like Wendy's too. Maybe you should cut it?"
I laughed, staring at the picture. It's still one of my favorite works of his.
—
When my brother was eleven, our dad died of suicide. Mother married a drunk but he didn't understand that yet. When he hits him, he crawls into my bed right next to me.
"Hush, little guy," I whispered to him. "It's all going to be okay."
"Why did dad have to die?" he'd weep onto my pillow. He didn't understand death yet, nor grief, so I just hold him and stroke his hair. I couldn't tell him.
"When you're grow up, you'll understand."
He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and says: "I don't want to ever grow up. I don't want to understand."
—
When my brother was thirteen, he got picked on a lot. They called him an orphan with no dad and pushed him onto the sidewalk. I caught him just before he got into a fight. We changed schools right after.
"This year, it'll be different," I told him. He shrugs and pulls his backpack tighter on his shoulder. He strides through the front door without another word and my heart clenches.
"I just want to be like a lost boy," he muttered. "No rules, no expectations."
—
When my brother was fifteen, girls took an interest in him. He was taller than most of the kids in his class and had gotten Father's good looks. "Don't worry," he told me. "I'm still your little guy."
"That's easy for you to say," I answered. "You're already taller than me. I'm actually kinda jealous."
"Don't be. I'm don't want to think about that stuff yet. It's still so much fun being a kid. Speaking of which, I did a new Neverland painting this morning. Wanna see?"
—
When my brother was sixteen he came home late, sketchbook in hand. Drunk Stepfather wanted to know where he went. He ignored him; took a punch or two until I finally stepped in. Ni-ki stormed into his room and I followed him.
"I know why dad died," he surprised me by saying. "I wish I didn't. I wish I was back to being a kid, when I didn't know anything." I embraced him because that's all I can do.
Late at night we awoke to screaming. It's Drunk Stepfather and Useless Mother fighting. He had her pinned down and he was lifting her skirt on the kitchen table. I pulled Ni-ki away immediately. He asked what's happening but I didn't respond. If I did, he'd grow up some more and that's not what he wanted.
I waited for the screaming to stop. I waited until the master's bedroom door shuts. I waited some more.
And then I tiptoed into the hall.
There is a cure, says Peter Pan, to growing up: Neverland. The second star to the right and straight on till morning. I leaned against the kitchen sink after getting my glass of water. The moon illuminated the small countertop, casting a shadow over my face. I fix my eyes on the twinkling in the distance.
Second star to the right.
I reached for the star, watching its light flicker between the passing of my fingers. I retreated back to bed. To Ni-ki's room. He needed his older sister that night.
And straight on till morning.
I awoke again to Useless Mother's screaming. Drunk Stepfather stumbled back in the doorway. I rubbed my eyes, adjusting. Flowers had bloomed all over the room, red roses and peonies and tulips across the floor and the walls in beautiful intricate vines.
"How-how could you?!" Useless Mother was staring at me, face paler than the white of my nightdress. Oh, it wasn't white anymore. There were roses and peonies on it too.
I looked down at the star in my hand, watching it glitter under the soft sun's rays. Ni-ki was still asleep beside me despite all the noise. That's okay. Peter Pan says the children fly to Neverland in their sleep so the pixie dust doesn't break. I'll let him sleep some more.
I raised the star to my lips, shushing Useless Mother and Drunk Stepfather. "Don't make a sound," I said, stroking Ni-ki's hair with my fingers. "He's on his way to Neverland. He didn't want to grow up so I took him there."
Ask-Hunnie880: Imagine him finding out that his partner was only attracted to him because of his handsome looks and nothing more. He'd be so heartbroken 🥺😔
•~•°♤°•~•
⚠️Warnings: Implied horrible death, parenticide and lying.
•On a Thursday afternoon Sir Penwood arrives with a woman dressed impeccably. Her only difference from Sir Integra was a skirt instead of pressed business pants.
•Hellsing had been audited. It was told that missing paperwork was an issue. This hinged particularly on Pip and the Geese. There needed to be documentation of the hours and time for continual maintenance training.
•Ms. Katla Simmons is the answer.
•At first Alucard remains in the shadows. He watches Katla work side by side with Sir Hellsing. They have a good time.
•Then the fact that Katla is so personal with everyone. Sometimes she helps Walter manage time with her assistance.
•~•°♤°•~•
•One evening about two weeks into Katla coming to Hellsing, Katla met in the kitchen. She is getting her meal and so is Alucard, his blood packet.
"Oh! You do exist," she softly laughs. "Don't be so shy, Alucard. I don't bite...much."
•Now the Vampire can see why so much of the human staff are comfortable with Katla. Not to mention how stunning her beauty is. Though Alucard is wary.
•Helen of Troy caused a war.
•After that night, Alucard is his usual self with flirting. Katla rolls with the punches and occasionally 'zings' the Unholy King back. Of course Shadow King bursts out in maniacal laughter all of Hellsing can hear.
•One late evening, early morning (3 a.m) Katla is in the Hellsing library. Alucard finds her unable to sleep.
•~•°♤°•~•
"Alucard I have repeating nightmares," she sniffs."Can you help me?"
•The long ebony haired Vampire pucks Katla up and takes her to his living quarters. The woman is snuggling her head against his cool chest.
•She is placed on his bed then he settles in next to her. Katla immediately closes the distance and is snuggled tightly against him.
•Alucard runs his finger through her thick chocolate colored hair. With time Katla falls asleep.
•Still Vampire can't shake a sense of suspicion. Alucard does as he always does.
•Sneak a peek into Katla's mind.
•He reads the remnants of her repeating nightmare. Her parents were murdered by someone due to a home invasion.
•Now his highly sensitivity tuned Vampire mind can settle down a level.
•~•°♤°•~•
•Alucard and Katla are professional in the workplace but in his quarters is a different story. The two are constantly entwined with Katla cooing her love and devotion for him.
•The lovers have been together for six months now. Alucard has slowly been opening up more and more with Katla. He actually feels safe enough to share some trauma in his past.
"It's going to be fine my Dark One," she softly replies. "You are safe with me."
•~•°♤°•~•
•Then one day, Alucard wakes up during the day. He's hungrier than usual so he phases up and strolls to the kitchen. His sensitive Vampire hearing recognizes Katla on her cell phone in the kitchen.
"I don't know Cale," she says to the man on the other end of the phone. "I only fuck him because he's a gorgeous piece of meat."
•How did she fool him?
•~•°♤°•~•
•Alucard goes along as if he never heard the conversation. Yet a terrible, dubious plan forms in his dark mind. The Vampire King has nothing but time on his side.
•Time passes and now Alucard makes it a game. Until one late night, rain falling steadily and sure enough Katla has her 'nightmare'.
•This time Alucard can read her thoughts as the nightmare is replying in her mind. What he learns from it, it's time to spring his trap.
"Katla wake up little one," Alucard shakes her shoulder. "You're having your dream again."
•He used to say nightmare not dream.
"Oh! Alucard! My nightmare was more detailed than usual…" she wipes tears away.
"It's not really a nightmare is it Katla " he sneers. "It's a sweet dream of you murdering your parents.."
"What?"
"Please now," Alucard tsks her. "Did you not think I can read minds? I can enter while you sleep? You're a particularly nasty little human…"
"I don't understand what you are talking about…" she huffs.
"I am curious as to how you seem empathic," he tightens his hold on Katla.
"Oh please yourself. Maybe if you got out more," she hisses angrily. "I'm a psychopath that has learned to act empathetic…"
"Destroyed your teacher I should imagine," he coldly states.
"Well the thing with empathy is it rather easy to get them to commit suicide…"she smirks. "Why do you care, vampire?"
"You lied. You have been lying all this time," he sneers with canines showing. "I just might have misled you about my identity…"
•~•°♤°•~•
•Slowly, so achingly slowly Alucard unravels his body into twisting limbs of shadows and darkness. He closes his eyes and licks his lips.
•His eyes open with not two but hundreds as the eyes fill all of his quarter up. One large one is staring at her from his chest.
•Katla attempts to scream but a shadow tendril is shoved down her mouth. Her eyes growl large and a real emotion is showing.
•~•°♤°•~•
•Fear.
•True fear.
•~•°♤°•~•
"I may have neglected to reveal my true form," as he morphs to his Vlad form. "I am Vlad III Dracula and I am sure you know what I am famous for…"
•
•~•°♤°•~•
•
Katla
It sounds innocent enough, but hear me out, because it’s not the sound of the name that has the creepy associations… it’s the meaning! The name Katla is the feminine form of the Old Norse male name Ketill, which means “cauldron.” Even creepier, the ketill was a cauldron used to catch the blood of sacrificial animals.
Parricide or parenticide – the killing of one's mother, father, or other close relative. Patricide – the act of killing of one's father (Latin: pater "father"). Pedicide – the act of killing a child.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org › wiki
Psychopaths tend to be more manipulative, can be seen by others as more charming, lead a semblance of a normal life, and minimize risk in criminal activities. Sociopaths tend to be more erratic, rage-prone, and unable to lead as much of a normal life.
