Papa Nightmare? [Nightkiller] [English Version]

CHAP 40

(A drawing that I didn't finish but wanted to show 👆)

[A/N: This is going to be an explanatory type chapter where everything will be seen from Crescent's point of view, including unmentioned parts of the story that will be from later chapters]

Crescent's POV:

For as long as I can remember I have been taken care of by my uncle Dream, there was even a point where I called him mom by mistake while being scolded by my Father.

I have always been someone who remembers many things despite my age and for that reason it was easier for me to understand books to a certain extent as well as information.

My dad spent most of his time at work and many times he managed to arrive a little before my bedtime, for which I was grateful that he took the time to talk to me, to take the opportunity to tell me stories about books he had read a long time ago and to talk to me about how sometimes he couldn't stand how stupid his subordinates could be. In those moments I couldn't do anything but laugh at those details, because despite the displeasure on my Father's face, his feelings showed the opposite.

Every night I always waited for his arrival in front of the door accompanied by my precious stuffed rabbit that I received on my 2nd birthday. I even asked my Dad why he gave me a rabbit instead of a teddy bear like he did to my cousin Lux, receiving in response that he had undoubtedly discovered that it was the favorite animal of a special person.

There were times when I stayed for hours waiting for my Father to arrive, where despite my uncle's insistence, I never left the entrance post unless I heard the door being opened. Many times I felt guilty for doing this, why because of my selfishness my Uncle Dream always stayed up to put a blanket on me and give me late night snacks so the wait wouldn't be so hard.

As time went by, waiting for so many hours had become something that caused me a lot of anxiety. My uncle had told me how dangerous the work he and my Father did could be, making me thought about the possibility of waiting for someone who would never return.

My uncle had assured me that despite the danger and difficulties, he and his brother would always find a way to return home because Lux and I were his greatest treasure.

Despite those words... my fear grew to the point that it had become a condition that I was never able to talk to anyone about. The bad dreams did not wait and most of the time I had nightmares about how each of the people I cared about disappeared like dust in a terrible darkness. At times like these I appreciated having the help of my uncle and my Father, because thanks to them I could enjoy good dreams and few nightmares with the use of their powers, it's a shame that it was only of limited use because if they used their powers too much In a person this could develop serious mental problems due to the lack or excessiveness of positive or negative emotions.

What I was sure of was that asking about my real Mother didn't seem as something convenient.

One of the few things I knew about my Mother was that they were a skeleton with the pronoun "he" just like my uncle Dream, there was also the fact that my Father always became melancholy when he was mentioned and I remember some fragments of the conversation between my uncle and my Father where they called him "Killer".

One night I took the courage to ask him for myself, unlike what I thought, instead of my Father simply deciding to change the subject or telling me that I shouldn't have asked him about such a complicated topic, he just sat next to me and started to talk without a hint of anger.

The first thing he told me was the description of what he looked like, a shadowy-looking skeleton with black sockets and tears of hatred soaking his cheekbones, a straight and emotionless attitude, dressed in a blue jacket and white shorts with two black lines on the sides, wearing slippers with socks despite winter reigning where he lived and his soul that was shown in the form of a red sphere with a white ring in the center.

His description was nothing like what I imagined, after all I had only had the opportunity to think about what a Mother would be like guiding me from Dream's attitude and information that appeared in the textbooks in the library hidden in the basement.

According to what I had read, a Mother was a kind being who was responsible for raising and caring for her own family, as well as teaching her children about right and wrong, and above all, providing emotional support even after their child is old enough to make his own life.

The mental image my Father was giving me was nothing like my Uncle Dream's personality or the written definition of the books I had read.

Then...

My concept of a Mother was wrong?

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With nothing more to say

Bye~

1026 words.