Bad Daughter

[accuscripter]

that If you're enjoying my content, but not supporting me on Patreon, you're basically letting me eat ramen noodles for the rest of my life

 

[accuscripter]

Vivian clutched her mother's cold, lifeless body, her trembling hands desperately feeling for a pulse. Deep down, she knew there was nothing

Vivian clutched her mother's cold, lifeless body, her trembling hands desperately feeling for a pulse. Deep down, she knew there was nothing. No warmth, no breath, no heartbeat—but still, she checked. Over and over again, her fingers pressing against her mother's neck, trying to prove herself wrong, trying to deny the grim reality that stared back at her.

"Ma… aren't you cold?" Her voice cracked, trembling with disbelief. "Your hands are so cold…" she whispered, forcing a smile onto her tear-streaked face, as if that fragile smile could somehow undo what had already been done.

Her eyes darted around, frantically searching for the source of all the blood. The room blurred around her, but then she saw it, the knife. It was embedded deep in her mother's chest, the handle sticking out grotesquely like a marker of death, a kitchen knife. The blade was buried deep, the wound already beginning to clot, a dark stain spreading across her mother's clothing.

Vivian's breath hitched. She reached for the knife, hesitating as her shaking fingers hovered just above the murder weapon. She couldn't bring herself to touch it. Her hand trembled violently, and she pulled it back, recoiling as though the knife itself was a living thing, dripping with malice. But then, forcing herself, she reached out again, her mind screaming in protest. Her fingers barely grazed the handle before she broke down completely, collapsing into the pool of her mother's blood.

The cold, sticky sensation of the blood seeping into her clothes made her shudder, her sobs uncontrollable now. She was sobbing with bouts of breathlessness.

She bowed in prostration over her mother's blood… "Can you hear me?" she wailed, her voice breaking as she cried out into the deafening silence. "I don't know… I don't know what to do, God! … Help me!!!"

Her cries echoed through the house, loud and pained. These screams did not go unnoticed. Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, each step reverberating through the house like the drumbeats of doom. Vivian's heart raced as her father's presence loomed closer, his voice following; filled with venom and rage.

He stormed into the room, and his eyes; bloodshot and wild landed on her crumpled figure, drenched in blood, clutching her mother's body. Without hesitation, he spat curses at her, his voice slashing through the air like a whip.

"What the hell are you doing, you filthy little wretch?!"

Vivian didn't flinch. Her body tensed as he moved closer, but she held her mother tightly, shielding her as though she could somehow still protect her from the monster in front of her.

"Don't you dare come near me," Vivian hissed, her voice low but shaking with barely-contained fury. "You dirty, rotten animal!"

Her father's face twisted into something grotesque, his rage bubbling over. In one swift motion, he lunged at her, his hands grabbing a fistful of her hair. Vivian screamed as he yanked her backwards, dragging her away from her mother's body with brutal force. Her scalp burned as he pulled, her screams blending with the sound of her body scraping against the blood-stained floor.

"No! No! Let me go!" she cried, but he was deaf to her pleas.

He dragged her out of the room, down the stairs, her body bouncing against each step, every painful thud against her back and ribs sending shocks of agony through her. Vivian's back scraped raw, her clothes soaking up the blood from the stairs. Each hit made her body scream in protest, but still, he dragged her, unrelenting.

When they reached the living room, he threw her across the floor like a doll. She hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. Her body ached in every possible way, but she barely had time to register the pain before she heard the rattle of kitchen utensils. Her father had stormed into the kitchen, rummaging around with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

She knew what he was looking for.

Her eyes darted to the fruit basket on the dining table. With trembling hands, she reached into it and pulled out a knife, her heart racing in her chest.

Her father emerged from the kitchen, holding a heavy grinder cutter. The vicious gleam in his eyes made her heart pound. He pointed the cutter at her, his voice a low growl.

"Come here. You deserve to see what I did to your mother," he snarled. "I'm the animal, huh?! You said I'm the animal!"

Vivian's pulse raced, fear coursing through her veins. He lunged at her, but she reacted instinctively, shoving him away with every ounce of strength she had. He stumbled, losing his balance, and the grinder cutter fell from his hand, clattering onto the floor.

Vivian scrambled to her feet, her body screaming in pain as she ran towards the staircase. But her father was quick; too quick. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back with terrifying strength, lifting her off the ground and slamming her back into the center of the living room.

She hit the floor with a sickening thud, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could react, he was on top of her, straddling her chest, his fists raining down on her like sledgehammers.

Vivian tried to shield herself, curling into a ball as his fists pounded against her arms, her face, her ribs. Every blow felt like it would shatter her bones. Her vision blurred, and she tasted blood in her mouth. She couldn't move, she was trapped under his weight, helpless to stop the relentless assault.

And then, with a sickening calm, he reached for the grinder cutter that had fallen to the floor. With a twisted sneer, he slashed at her arms. Vivian let out a blood-curdling scream as the blade tore through her skin, the pain blinding, searing.

"Stop it… please… I'll call the police…" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

"The police?!" He laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. "That bitch said the same thing!"

His hands found her throat, his fingers digging into her skin, choking her. Her world began to fade to black as her vision swam. She gasped for air, but there was none. Her lungs burned, her head pounded. Her mind raced with memories of her life, her miserable, abusive life.

She blinked up at him, her father...a monster...squeezing the life out of her. She hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being.

"I hate those eyes," he snarled, his voice thick with loathing. With one hand, he reached for her face, his fingers digging into her eye socket.

Vivian screamed. It was the the rawest expression of pain and terror. In desperation, she reached under her, feeling for the knife she had grabbed from the fruit basket. Her fingers wrapped around the handle.

Without thinking, without hesitating, she plunged the knife into her father's chest as hard as she could.

He let out a monstrous howl of pain, his body jerking violently as the blade sank into him. A rush of hot blood gushed from the wound, splattering across Vivian's face. She gasped, her chest heaving, as her father's grip on her loosened.

He collapsed to the side, gasping, choking on his own blood. His eyes were wide with shock, his hands clawing at the knife still embedded in his chest. And then, with one final, gurgling breath, he went still.

Dead.

Vivian lay there, gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably. Blood.... his blood... covered her face, her hands, her clothes. And then, as the adrenaline drained from her body, everything went dark.

She collapsed into unconsciousness, the world fading into silence.



(I HATE THIS CHAPTER EVEN WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I WAS CRYING, DONT KNOW WHY ... I WAS SCARED OF MY OWN CYCLE OF THOUGHTS IN THIS CHAPTER) As always you can support my work by following me on patreon accuscripter and read ahead.

 

[accuscripter]

Her knees buckled under her as she collapsed in Rupert's arms, her sobs growing weaker until the world around her faded to black.

Vivian's senses were fuzzy, the sharp ache in her head clouding reality. A voice, distant yet familiar, kept calling her name. "Vivian… Vivian… wake up!" Someone was stroking her face gently, trying to rouse her. Through her heavy eyelids, she barely made out the face of her brother, Rupert, hovering over her.

"Come on, Viv… get up!" His voice sounded strangely calm, yet the urgency was undeniable.

She groaned as she stirred, her whole body protesting the movement. He helped her sit up. It all felt like a dream; her bloody hands, the chaos, the nightmare she just escaped. Her back throbbed with pain, yet everything around her looked eerily… clean. There were no bloodstains, no bodies. Not even a speck of dust on the polished floor. Everything was pristine and clear.

Confused, she glanced around. Her mother wasn't there. The horror she'd just witnessed, or had she caused it, seemed to have evaporated into nothingness. Only Rupert remained. He looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"Where is Mother?" she asked cautiously, feeling the unease settle into her bones.

Rupert's eyes darkened. "In the room upstairs," he said quietly, a cold edge in his tone.

"And that man?" Her voice quivered. She could barely bring herself to say Father.

Rupert's lips tightened. "Also in the room."

Vivian tried to stand, though her legs wobbled beneath her. She could hardly feel the ground beneath her feet, as if her body was no longer hers. Her bloody back throbbed painfully, but the overwhelming numbness inside made it all feel unreal. She limped toward the staircase, needing to see them, needing to prove to herself this was all just some cruel dream.

But as she neared the stairs, Rupert's hand grabbed her arm tightly, yanking her back. "Where are you going?"

"To see Mother…" she whispered, her voice fragile but hopeful. "She's okay, right?" A strained smile pulled at her lips, as though clinging to some false hope.

Rupert stared at her, the look on his face growing darker. "She's dead, Vivian," he said flatly, his voice cold and unrelenting.

Vivian froze. His words pierced her like the knife she had tried to pull from her mother's chest. "No… no, no, no, that's not possible. It was just a dream," she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to shake off the nightmare.

But Rupert's next words hit her even harder. "It wasn't a dream," he said quietly, the finality of his words weighing down on her.

Her stomach twisted violently. "Then… Father?" she asked, barely able to get the words out. Her heart raced, her throat dry.

Rupert nodded, his face grim. "He's dead too."

Her chest tightened, and tears welled in her eyes. She stared at her brother, a realization dawning on her that she couldn't accept. "I… I killed him," she whispered hoarsely, tears streaming down her face. The weight of her confession hung in the air like a storm cloud about to break.

Rupert's expression didn't change. "No," he said, his voice softer, almost detached. "He killed himself… after he killed Mother."

Vivian's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind spun in a dizzying whirlpool of guilt and horror. She saw flashes of blood, her father's eyes bulging as she thrust the knife into him, her mother's cold, lifeless face. It was all her fault.
"NO!" she screamed, her voice shaking with hysteria. "No, I did it… I killed him! I stabbed him!" Her body trembled uncontrollably, as if trying to shake free from the unbearable truth. "I killed them all!"

Suddenly, Rupert slapped her hard across the face. The force of the blow sent her stumbling back, gasping for air. Her skin stung, but it was the shock that left her breathless.

"YOU DID NOTHING!"

Rupert's voice roared in her ears. His face was inches from hers, his eyes blazing.

"Do you understand? You weren't even here. None of this is on you."

Vivian's mind refused to process the words. It felt like the floor had been ripped out from beneath her. "But I was here… I was here," she cried weakly, struggling against his grasp, her nails digging into his skin. She felt suffocated, the weight of her guilt crushing her.

"It's your fault! You didn't protect her! You let him kill her!" Her voice cracked, filled with accusation and grief. "You let that monster… you let him take her from us!"

Rupert's face twisted in anguish. "Yes, it's my fault," he murmured, pulling her close, his voice breaking as he held her struggling form. "It's all my fault." His grip tightened as she thrashed against him, hitting him with every ounce of her strength remaining in her injured arms, her body convulsing like a dying fish gasping for air.

Vivian was unraveling, her strength slipping away with each sob. She felt the life drain out of her, her limbs growing weak, her mind collapsing into a pit of despair. Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled under her as she collapsed in Rupert's arms, her sobs growing weaker until the world around her faded to black.

"Vivian… Vivian…!" Her brother's desperate voice echoed in her ears as she fell into the abyss.

---

When her eyes finally opened again, the familiar coldness of the jail cell greeted her. She lay on the hard ground, her body curled into itself, her face damp with tears. "Rupert," she whispered, her voice hoarse, calling out into the void.

But Rupert was dead. He had been dead for days now.

And here she was, locked away, accused of murdering the only person she would never harm.

Her body ached with the same unbearable pain she had felt all those years ago. The weight of loss, the horror of betrayal. It all crashed down on her like a tidal wave, drowning her in the relentless agony of her past.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she curled into herself, her mind spiraling into the darkest corners of her memories. And in the shadows, Detective Sarah Blake stood quietly, watching her.



As always you can support my work by following me on patreon accuscripter and read ahead.