Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2706869.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work, Batman_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Bruce_Gallio/Harleen_Quinzel, Harleen_Quinzel/Spencer_Gallio
  Character:
      Bruce_Gallio, Harleen_Quinzel, Aurora_Gallio, Spencer_Gallio
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Angst, Romance, Infidelity, Past_Sexual_Abuse
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-12-02 Words: 5739
****** Monsters, Gods, Dreams, and Dark Visions ******
by Harlequin4ever, Karalena_Cullen_(Karacullen23)
Summary
     He stared at her. His own eyes having faded to such deepest blue they
     were almost black. His face pale and stricken. He looked at her like
     she was a stranger. Then his face contorted and his eyes glazed over
     her face, as though desperately searching for some sign of
     recognition. Only... there was none. All he could do was stand there
     and tremble.
     Waiting for the answer...an answer she sensed, wasn't coming when she
     saw the look in his eyes. So deep she shivered with fear. There was a
     time he looked at her, almost like that. A time long ago. All he was
     doing, was standing there about to explode. And she had no idea where
     it had even come from.
She insisted she was fine, that he hadn't hurt her in the slightest. Yet, Bruce
wasn't so sure. One thing about his wife that Bruce had learned a long time
ago, was the fact that she catered to some strange, misguided belief that
withholding the truth or even flat out lying, at certain times was necessary in
order to spare the feelings of those she cared about. It could be seen as an
admirable trait he supposed, if only it wasn't so goddamned annoying.
 
 
Bruce wasn't generally one to use his powers to force his way to the truths
hidden in the depths of people's minds and souls, which was one of his own
admirable traits. However, if there were ever exceptions to that rule, the
health and happiness of his beloved wife, would certainly be that exception.
Having recently reacquired his powers, Bruce admittedly, was a little rusty.
Add to that the fact that he had never really been one to make use of his own
powers to begin with. Choosing instead to deny that part of himself in an
effort to feel more... well human.
 
He himself wasn't entirely sure what all he was capable of, but judging by
those rare occasions when he did utilize that power, he was pretty sure he was
capable of just about anything. That thought alone, was beyond terrifying.
 
 
Bruce pondered it all while Harls slept almost fitfully, wrapped in his arms,
their bodies pressed tightly together. She'd endured a hard evening, and in
light of the terrible secret she had given away during her fit, Bruce's heart
wept at the possibility that he may have hurt her in more ways than just one.
There was a lot more to it than Harls was willing to let on. She was beyond
upset, she had been completely freaked and had damn near come close to a
complete and total mental breakdown. While that demon had been purged, another
stepped in to take its place. She became violently sick. Even now she shivered
in his arms and let out little pained gasps in her sleep.
 
 
And so, as the first rays of dawn began to rip through the horizon, Bruce had
made up his mind. Slipping his hand from where it wrapped around his wife's
middle, he slid it under the covers and shifted her shirt up so that he could
place his palm gently on her tummy. Bruce took in a slow, deep breath and let
it out softly from his lips. Closing his eyes, he focused on Harls and reached
for the light inside of himself...
 
 
***
 
When he came out of it, he came out of it with a great, shuddering lurch and a
howling, anguished cry. He snatched his hand away from her stomach as though
her very skin were burning like acid through the flesh of his hand. His entire
body seemed to shiver violently, uncontrollably. He felt bone cold, through and
through. Tears burned even as his crystal eyes flashed fiercely in some
powerful, unnamed emotion. That same emotion which threatened to rupture his
galloping heart there in his chest. That emotion which threatened to rip, to
tear the very fabric of his soul. Leaving him nothing more than a cold, empty
husk. A specter of flesh.
 
 
It was warm...and while she slept it wasn't perfect, and cried out with the
pain, only to settle down once more. The dark took it away for some time, until
she shivered and was brought back to it. Her eyes were so heavy and so were her
ragged breaths.
 
 
But she knew she was safe, with Bruce right behind her, holding her tight
enough for her to feel. He promised he wouldn't leave her even when she slept,
and then she was...dreaming. Just flashes, too fast for her to keep up.
Yellow...blue...white.
 
 
And then a loud yelling somewhere. She came to in fright, gasped and sat bolt
up in the bed, heart hammering in her chest and then she was quickly over the
side of the bed, grabbing the bedside table for support before her stomach
clenched painfully and she was hurling once more.
 
 
Blood. That's all it was. And it still scared the shit out of her. It dribbled
from her mouth onto the carpet in a heap while she gripped the sheets tightly.
Her head was spinning and she coughed. "W-What's going on...w-what........was
that...?"
 
 
All he could do was jump out of the bed. Standing with his fists clenching
tightly at his sides, his entire body still shivering as she spun on him, blue
swirling within the brown of her wide, panicked eyes.
 
 
He stared at her. His own eyes having faded to such deepest blue they were
almost black. His face pale and stricken. He looked at her like she was a
stranger. Then his face contorted and his eyes glazed over her face, as though
desperately searching for some sign of recognition. Only... there was none. All
he could do was stand there and tremble.
 
 
Waiting for the answer...an answer she sensed, wasn't coming when she saw the
look in his eyes. So deep she shivered with fear. There was a time he looked at
her, almost like that. A time long ago. All he was doing, was standing there
about to explode. And she had no idea where it had even come from.
 
 
"Bruce.." She didn't dare move, only to wipe away the crimson on her lips.
"What's going on..?" She tried to keep the panic from her voice, but it was
plain as day and suddenly, she didn't want to know the answer to that either.
 
 
He only continued to stare at her as though he had no idea who the hell she
was. Only now her voice seemed to snap something inside of him and something
sharp and painful flashed behind his eyes. A tremor ran through his body, his
fists tightened. He took a quick and agitated step towards her, his body moving
as though he meant to strike her. The large bed stood between them. Stopping
his advance. His arm dropped back down to his side. A sudden look of terror as
he realized what he might have been about to do.
 
 
Still he said nothing. So many conflicting and confused emotions flashing
rapidly across his face. From fury to anguish to shock and betrayal, then back
again to start all over.
 
 
Again she waited, and it was like he didn't even know who the hell she was,
which really didn't help the hurt that thrummed inside of her. He just looked
so violent and dark in that moment, she had no idea what to even think. In that
moment, she understood why everyone had feared the Batman.
 
 
His step towards her, had her gasping and she was sure she was about to feel
the blow to her face and when it didn't come, she shuddered so hard, she tipped
off the bed. Landing on her side, she quickly crawled, scrambling up to get out
of the room. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was going to be sick
again, but the memories were just too much.
 
 
Grabbing the wall for support, the world spinning that wouldn't stop, she had
to get to the stairs, she couldn't stay in that room! Misjudging the first step
of the stairs, she lost her balance, and a loud piercing scream tore from her
lips before she tumbled her way down.
 
 
She couldn't breathe! Skidding at the end of the stairs, she tried to reach for
the banister and help herself up. But she knew it was in her head, it was only
those memories coming to haunt her. They wouldn't stop! They had her by the
throat, choking and slamming their fists into her face, pinning her down so she
couldn't move. She uselessly clawed at her throat, trying to get the unwelcome
hands off her...
 
 
Scared shitless, and really thinking she was going to die, she called for her
son as she choked and cried, before the black claimed her..
 
 
Spencer was already on his way back home. He'd left early that morning and had
been driving straight for hours. Being away had done nothing to clear the dark
clouds in his head, but he wasn't that same, spineless little boy that he used
to be. He had to own up to his responsibilities and account for his actions.
 
 
It wasn't going to be easy. Not that he was going to bare all his sins at his
sisters feet and hope that she could forgive him. No. No, he couldn't ever do
that. Not... this time. Not, with this particular sin. It didn't mean that he
was going to abandon her. They had made plans. Together. All of which had been
interrupted almost at every turn. But things were just too crazy now, so
completely insane that Spencer knew... no matter how much he loved his mother,
he had to get away from her. Whether or not Auri chose to come with him now or
not.
 
 
He had just hit the city limits when it hit him. Like a powerful jolt it
slammed into him. His mother's call. Her pure terror. And a flash of nightmare
images that left him gasping as the car swerved dangerously out of his lane.
Then just as suddenly, it was gone. He quickly jerked the car back onto his
side of the road, narrowly avoiding a head on collision with a station wagon,
their horn blaring.
 
 
He stepped on the gas. His face pale and his palms sweating as his heart beat
frantically in his chest. What did this mean? One particular image stood out
from all the rest. His father's eyes... and he shivered. "I'm coming Mother.
I'm coming!" He cried out to her in his mind, and only hoped she could hear
him. Hope it gave her some comfort at least. And praying that he wasn't too
late...
 
 
Waking with a start at the thump in the other room, she looked around shaken
from sleep, with bleary wide eyes. She waited a second, and then was about to
shake it off, perhaps thinking it was just a bad dream again, making sure that
her wrists weren't bruised or had any marks....
 
 
Breathing out with relief, she patted her baby bump and was about to fall back
asleep sitting up when she heard the loud scream of her Mother and then the
loud thumps. Up and out of her bedroom before the thumping stopped, she nearly
threw herself over the banister to look over the edge only to see...
 
 
"Mom!? Momma!" Auri's eyes shot wide open at the struggling her Mother was
doing. Nearly falling over herself, she darted to the top of the stairs, only
to catch sight of her Father just...just standing there.
 
 
"Daddy?" Torn on whether to go to her Mother, or her Father, she stood there
for a split second, while her Mom called for her brother. Auri called out for
Spencer as well, knowing that he would be more help to her than she would and
raced into her parents bedroom. The look on his face scared the wits out of
her. But she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Snap outta it, Daddy!
What's going on!"
 
 
In her fright, his voice was there. Telling her that he was on his way... But
it would be too late! And in the depths of her mind, she could hear Aurora with
her Father and she choked out again, trying to scream for her daughter to run.
 
 
The look of pure terror on his wife's face before she scrambled and bolted away
from him, was almost enough to snap him out of it. He had /never/ hit her in
anger, never. And he was taken aback at the realization that within those
moments of complete, seething fury, he might have been more than capable. Just
that realization shook him to his core.
 
 
Trying to shake it off, he went after her as she ran from the room. Intent
on... well what exactly, he wasn't sure. He was still too much in shock over
what he had seen, what he now knew. All he knew was that he wasn't going to let
her run away.
 
 
Just as he got out into the hall, he saw her there at the head of the stairs.
In panicked flurry to get away from /him/ she missed her footing and all at
once she was falling. His heart jumped and beat at him to move, his feet
rushing to try to help her as she let out that ear piercing shriek. In that
split second his instincts to save her took over and the myriad of terrible
emotions had fled in its wake.
 
 
Only he heard her cry out for Spencer. Her son. Her...
 
 
Pain. Betrayal. Rage. Horror. It all swept back over him in that moment. Her
body flailed and bumped and tumbled before finally coming to rest at the foot
of the stairs. And all he could do was stand there looking down at her. His
chest heaving, his fists clenched hard at his sides. His entire body strung
tight and taut as barbed wire. Any love or sympathy he might have felt for her
... swept away as the disturbing images of what he himself had witnessed before
bombarded his mind. He had blamed Mathias. The darkness. Unable to attribute
such horror to reality. But what he had just seen. What he had just /felt/ from
her...
 
 
He looked down at her crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. And for the first
time in his life, Bruce almost wished she wouldn't get back up again.
 
 
He felt suddenly so...cold, so empty.
 
 
Then Aurora was there. He realized she had been shaking him and he looked down
into wide, frightened azure eyes. Telling him to snap out of it. Blinking, he
lay his hands over hers that shook his shoulders and gently removed them.
Giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he took a step back. "Go make
sure your mother's alright." His voice sounded so strange... so hollow, even to
his own ears.
 
 
He didn't wait for her to comply with him. He was rushing down the stairs, his
bare feet slapping and echoing loudly off the bare wooden steps. He neither
paused nor glanced at his wife as he stepped past her, and disappeared around
the dark corner at the end of the hall.
 
 
He wasn't listening...or she wasn't getting through, and just at realizing she
might have to slap him, his hands were taking her's off him. Suddenly
frightened of her own Father, someone whom had loved and protected her since
she was a baby, with the look in his eyes as he told her to go and help her
Mom.
 
 
But then he was flying down the stairs. "Daddy!? DADDY!!!" He disappeared from
sight and she stumbled down the stairs to her Mother's aid. "Momma?!" God, she
looked almost blue! Something was choking her, but Auri didn't know what to do!
She tried to soothe her down, to gently grip her own strangling hands choking
at her throat. The look in her Mother's eyes would haunt her from then on, she
was sure.
 
 
"HELP! OH GOD, WHAT DO I DO?!?"
 
 
Then it was too late, her Mother shuddered under her hands and her eyes rolled
to the back of her head, before going limp on the stairs..
 
 
The flash of his father's face when Auri called out to him had Spencer's foot
slamming fully down on the gas. Spencer wasn't one to generally speed quite so
excessively, but it didn't mean he didn't possess the capability of handling an
automobile at excessive speeds. His hands maneuvered the wheel with a smooth
precision and his feet on the pedals with the ingrained instincts of a
professional as he wove in and out of traffic and tore down the off ramp.
 
 
His face set like stone in calculated concentration as he took the sharp
corners on the dark and winding roads. Eyes sharp and focused beyond human
capacity as the cool, early morning spring scented wind blew over his face,
ruffling his hair from the opened window.
 
 
Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" blared from the speakers, the beat and rhythm
thronging through his body and heightening his tension. Spencer didn't know
what to expect when he arrived home, the terror he'd felt from both his mother
and his sister when they'd called out to him had shaken him to his core. That
his father could elicit such strong feelings of fear in both the women had him
both baffled and damn near jumping out of his own skin to reach them. His
entire body was tensed, muscles taut and adrenaline pumping, readied for
whatever physically violent challenges might arise upon his arrival.
 
 
Spencer was pretty confident, that if it came right down to it, he could take
his father down. True, Bruce was highly skilled in several forms of hand to
hand combat and a variety of impressive martial arts, but so was Spencer. When
it came to strength, power, agility and speed, they were pretty much an equal
match. The main deciding factor was that final, lethal intent. Spencer knew of
his father's moral and passionate restrictions in that particular area, and
quite honestly, Spencer himself held no such convictions. He wouldn't think
twice about delivering a lethal blow, even to his own father. And if Spencer
was being completely honest with himself, he had been secretly itching for this
opportunity for most if not all of his lifetime.
 
 
Yes, his main concern was protecting his mother and sister, but should the
situation escalate to severe proportions, Spencer would not hesitate. Though he
was pretty certain that there really wasn't any risk involving the death of
Bruce Gallio. The man was pretty much a god, Spencer was sure that pretty much
meant the asshole was completely invulnerable and impervious. That wasn't going
to stop Spencer from putting in his best efforts.
 
 
The final crescendo of Gershwin's masterpiece blasted through the car, rattling
the glass as Spencer tore down the gravel drive of the Kent-Luthor estate.
Slamming on the breaks, the car slid a good three or five inches before coming
to a complete stop. Spencer counteracted the sudden jerk, threw the car in park
and jumped out of the car, not bothering to cut to the engine. He flew around
the back and into the gardens on his way inside, only to stop suddenly when he
felt that powerful presence as strongly as he might have felt a brick wall.
 
 
His boots came to a sudden halt, his senses prickling and opening up as he
scanned the shadows for his father...
 
 
***
 
 
Bruce had been waiting for him. His senses on high alert, he had picked up the
sound of the roaring engine almost five miles away. When it tore down the
drive, Bruce's entire body tensed up and his rage quieted to a deadly hum
inside of himself.
 
 
As Spencer dashed into the garden and stopped, his head cocking, his eyes
scanning the shadows, Bruce stepped forward from where he had been standing in
the shadows from beneath the large, still bare lilac bushes.
 
 
"What have you done?" His voice was a quiet, anguished hush as he regarded the
boy he had thought he'd known, with eyes the colour of a storm. No. Here,
standing before him now, was not the boy he had thought he known.
 
 
This was not a boy, but a stranger. Bruce could sense it all too clearly now.
The change was entirely too obvious now and Bruce wondered how he could have
overlooked it before. This wasn't Spencer, or even the demon Mathias, but a
completely integrated sum of both their parts. This was the pure, undiluted and
whole representation of the /man/ standing before him.
 
 
The last thing she remembered was the sound of her daughter's voice screaming
out for help before the hands drowned her into darkness..
 
 
Spencer regarded his father right back with steely eyes. His shoulders rolled
back, his body coiling in preparation. He could see it in his father's eyes...
the recognition, at last. It was a bit disquieting. One advantage already
forfeited.
 
 
"I don't know what you're talking about? What have you done to the girls? Where
are they?"
 
 
Panicking at her Mother's limp body just lying there, not even breathing, Auri
shrieked in fright before trying to find a pulse. It took her a few moments
before she could calm down enough to make sure it was still there. That her
Mother was still aliv...See More
 
 
Noticing the taller man's aggressive stance, Bruce's own body accommodated for
it. He shifted his body weight so that it was evenly distributed on the balls
of his feet. Should Spencer pounce, Bruce would be ready.
 
 
His eyes only hardened at the accusatory inquiry. "I haven't done a goddamned
thing to either one of them." He spit out, then grit his teeth. "I wish I could
say the same for you."
 
 
Spencer's eyes lit up in sudden understanding. Slowly, his lips curled up into
a dubious little half grin. "Trust me father, I didn't do anything to either
one of them that the didn't /want/ me to do do them."
 
 
Pain flashed brightly behind his eyes, even as his shackles rose. Bruce
miraculously maintained control. "Who are you? You're not my son."
 
 
"Ahhh... but you /know/ who I am Father. I /am/ your son. Through and through.
I'm the man that /you/ raised me to be. It was under your guidance... or
perhaps... the lack thereof that aided in the culmination of all I am, standing
right here in front of you now."
 
 
He tilted his head, his azure eyes probing his father carefully. "Tell me
Father, what is it that bothers you the most? The fact that I'm fucking your
sweet, not-so-very-innocent anymore little girl? Or the idea, that the very son
whom you claimed to have done only your very best in raising... is also fucking
your dripping cunt of a /wife/ and making her come ten times harder than you
ever could?"
 
 
The ease with which it all slipped so casually out of his smirking, filthy
lips. The provocative way in which his cold, hard eyes seemed to mock him. Then
the image of his wife's face, contorted in total ecstasy, head thrown back as
her own son finger fucked her hard up against the wall...
 
 
He blinked. Looked up to find Spencer smirking impishly over at him.
 
 
That was it. Even through the sting of tears, Bruce saw red.
 
 
With an anguished roar, he flew at him.
 
 
Laying on her parents bed, on her Father's side, she watched the door and her
sleeping Mother with wide eyes. She just couldn't understand. But then jumped a
mile at the shrill scream coming from next to her. Arms flailed out at her and
she had a little trouble trying to control her out of control Mother.
 
 
In a soft voice, she started singing softly to her, before finally pinning down
her arms, tears in her eyes, but her voice never faltered and gently shushed
her Mother. Where the hell was Spencer? She had no idea what else to do, and if
she attacked her, she'd be outclassed in every way.
 
 
It really was too easy to evoke the proper elicited response from his father. A
few choice words, a little creative imagery sent his way, and the man was
flying at him with a roar. He was just too predictable.
 
 
Spencer was more than ready for him. He charged back, throwing his full weight
into the impact, his fist sweeping down to send a stiff blow into his father's
stomach while simultaneously his shoulders lowered and arched up, springing up
from the balls of his feet, he sent his father flipping hard over his back.
 
 
The impact was sudden and the blow to his stomach knocked the wind from him.
Taken off his guard, not having expected such a meticulous defense from
Spencer, Bruce found himself flying out of control.
 
 
Landing hard on his back, the blows didn't incite much pain, but they were
certainly enough to send him reeling. Recovering himself quickly, he sprang
back up and took a protective stance. His eyes flashing dangerously. "You've
learned a few tricks."
 
 
"What did you expect Father, that all the time I spent abroad I squandered
touring dusty old museums and splashing around in paints?"
 
 
Spencer shook his head and rolled his eyes as he circled Bruce. "You never knew
me at all did you?"
 
 
Spencer's words cut him deep. Enough so that he blinked and froze unprotected.
"I tried, Spencer. Whether or not you want to believe that. You were my son. I
cared about you. I loved you."
 
 
Spencer's eyes hardened to ice. His voice like stone. "Yes. You cared /so/ much
that you always ensured you'd go out of your way to check in with me. You loved
me so /very/ much that when I needed my father to protect me... you were right
there, swooping in to save the day. Weren't you?"
 
 
His jaw clenched with a tic to his cheek. "Oh wait, that's right... you /
weren't/ there, /daddy/. You left me to be ravaged by the wolves!"
 
 
This time it was Spencer who lunged. His move was far more calculated than
Bruce's had been, and he brought his father to the ground once more. He landed
hard on top of him and before Bruce could recover, Spencers fists were flying
hard at Bruce's face. Again and again while he screamed. "You didn't even
fucking notice! You son of a bitch! You never even fucking knew what they did
to me! You didn't fucking care! YOU. JUST. DIDN'T. CARE!"
 
 
The hands were pulling at her from every direction and it felt like all the air
from her lungs were being sucked out like a huge vacuum. She tried screaming,
as if screaming and crying out would do her much good. Perhaps it was just the
defense mechanism she felt was necessary to make her feel like she was worth
something.
 
 
They touched her so sinfully, it was painful, yet had the hint of burning
affection. Deep in the pit of her stomach she could sense the desire---wrong
and unwilling, yet it was still there, of course it was there. The act was just
as desirable even with consequences. She had been here before, only, it wasn't
/her/ this time. Flashes of light, filled with her baby boys face
contorted......
 
 
In her mind she screamed, and shrilly and loudly in the real world too. She
tried to push away all those hands trying to drown her and make her theirs.
This wasn't real!!
 
 
.....and suddenly there was a soft lullaby. Sweet and smooth and the hands were
calm and compliant with her wills.
 
 
Heavy lids so hard to find whom was her savior this time, when she just let the
melody float her away. And finally she stilled and her breathing was calm and
adjusted to the shock left in it's wake.
 
 
Then and only then was she deep asleep.
 
 
It wasn't until her Mother had calmed down that she shivered in her place.
Something was /definitely/ wrong. Chewing on her lip, she brushed her Mom's
dark hair gently, over and over again, while petting her baby bump, still
flowing from the end of one song into another.
 
 
The truth hurts. Almost as much, Bruce discovered, as a 198 pound, super pissed
off demi-god with apparently severe daddy issues. Spencer's fists slammed hard
and relentlessly into his face. The force with which he beat at his face was
surprisingly effective and much to Bruce's astonishment and distress, he felt
his face being busted open. His lip split beneath those bony knuckles, his
eyebrow bust open, his eyeballs felt as though they were being forced back into
his brain through the eye sockets. His nose crunched and that last blow
certainly unhinged his jaw. Blood blossomed thickly, Spencer's continued blows
smearing it, eliciting even more flow, and all Bruce could taste or smell was
his own stringent crimson.
 
 
As Spencer pounded into his face, light flashed brightly behind his eyes. With
the flashes came the sharp, disturbing images that in his anguished and angry
state, his son was projecting all too clearly and violently into his mind.
 
 
Bruce had no defense against this. The knowledge that these terrible things had
happened to his little boy. His single most important purpose as a father was
that he be the strong protector over his children. He may have failed his son
in many ways, but now he knew, he had failed him in /every/ conceivable way
possible.
 
 
His anger recessed in the face of his son's accusations. His allusions to
horrors that much to Bruce's shame, he had had absolutely no inkling or idea
about. He made no move to fend him off. His will defeated and his powers
forgotten. Bruce was no more than a boneless and dispirited heap fully at his
son's mercy.
 
 
Everyone now knew the story of Mathias' first appearance. How he had appeared
one sunny day on the playground when some older boys were harassing his little
sister. Mathias stepped in and took all three of the no good little assholes
down. What no one knew however, was the story of Mathias' second appearance.
 
 
Of course /everyone/ knew about the quite sudden and tragic death of the
beloved fourth grade elementary school teacher. The autopsy revealed that the
teacher had died from a rare toxicity to a certain type of fish. Tetraodontidae
aka blowfish, is considered a rare delicacy. However certain internal organs
such as the liver of the Tetraodontidae fish contain a highly deadly toxin
known as detetrodotoxin. If the Fugu dish isn't prepared with very particular
and careful attention, the toxin can enter the bloodstream and within 3-20
minutes after ingestion, death can occur.
 
 
This was officially Mathias' first homicide. No one ever would have suspected.
How could they? Yet, this is very important. Because this was where all the
killing began. After all, murder begets murder, sometimes mistakes are made and
tracks need to be covered. He was still only just a boy after all. On top of it
all, that teacher was not the only one responsible. Was not the only one to
which Mathias enacted his vengeance upon.
 
 
It took years to finish them all off, and by that time, Mathias was completely
out of control. He couldn't /stop/. That first innocent young woman from the
museum, she reminded him too much of his third victim, a young woman with long,
rust coloured hair and cold, hazel eyes smiling lasciviously at him from behind
thick, goggle lenses. The older he got, the more they leered at him, and the
more they leered at him, the more he was reminded of those others so long
ago...
 
 
Spencer couldn't stop the vivid flashbacks as they burst violently behind his
raging eyes. With all the intensity of reality, it was almost as though he were
re-living each terrible moment of torture over again. For so long he had
repressed it all. Mathias alone had remembered, leaving Spencer free from the
soul sick burden of such dark and terrible childhood secrets. The kind of
secrets that no child should ever have to endure nor keep.
 
 
Mathias had kept that secret. Shouldered that burden for Spencer from the
moment of his inception. Leaving Spencer free to move on. To attempt to live
out what little remained of his childhood free from the overwhelming weight of
it all.
 
 
His father just lay beneath him, suffering each of his blows. The next more
brutal than the last. Spencer could feel as his skin split open beneath his
onslaught. His knuckles were sticky, wet with his father's bright blood. Even
as he heard the sharp crack of his jaw breaking, Bruce did nothing. It was
beyond infuriating.
 
 
"Why aren't you fighting back?!" He cried out, his fists still flailing hard at
his father's battered face. "FIGHT BACK YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He screamed as his
entire body shivered with intense emotion.
 
 
This had been something Spencer had been needing for a very long time, way deep
down in the darkest most hidden recesses of himself. And his father was doing
nothing!
 
 
Still Spencer's fists flew. Bruce's eyes started to roll back as consciousness
began to fade. This only aggravated Spencer further. Needing his father here.
Needing him to see him. Needing his father to finally. see. him. "Look at me!"
His fists ceased their bashing, and he took his father hard by the shoulders
and shook him. "LOOK AT ME!"
 
 
Bruce only managed to crack one swollen, bloodied eye opened. The deep blue of
his eyes in sharp contrast to the dark crimson of his freshly oozing blood.
"Where were you Dad?!" Spencer panted out. His face flushed and livid as he
trembled. "You were supposed to protect me?!" His voice cracked and tears shone
in his eyes, glistening in the fire light of the burning dawn.
 
 
Bruce only let out a pained groan. His one good eye filling with water as he
stared up at his son.
 
 
"You son of a bitch." Spencer grit out breathlessly, choking back the sobs that
wanted to erupt from his chest. He shoved hard at his father's shoulders,
"Where were you?" Wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his, smearing
his father's blood over his stark face, Spencer shook his head and shoved off
of Bruce. His father remained on their on the ground, looking up at him. So
pathetic. Spencer felt a fresh surge of loathing wash over him. "God. I hate
you." He sent a swift kick with the heel of his boot straight to the side of
his father's face. Bruce's head jerked to the side, and then he went completely
limp. "I'll never forgive you. You son of a bitch. Never." Spitting the taste
of his father's blood from his lips, Spencer turned on his heel and headed
towards the house, leaving his father there in the stinking mud, where he
belonged.
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