Father: Death

Libert's footsteps echoed through the empty streets as he made his way back to the place he called home.

A heavy silence hung in the air, suffocating his senses. As he approached the familiar front door, a shiver ran down his spine, warning him of an impending storm. There was something instinctively wrong, a primal intuition like an animal sensing the imminent arrival of a hurricane.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit living room, tainted with an eerie atmosphere. The air was thick with tension as if it crackled with invisible lightning. Libert's heart pounded in his chest, a steady drumbeat of foreboding.

He hesitated, the weight of apprehension pulling at his every step, but he had nowhere else to go.

The room suddenly came alive as his abusive father emerged from the shadows, his presence suffocating. A wave of dread washed over Libert, his body trembling involuntarily.

His father's eyes, cold and devoid of any warmth, bore into him with a fiery intensity, as if he had been waiting for this moment, relishing in the anticipation of causing pain.

"You're late!" his father bellowed, his voice laced with venom. "Do you think you can just waltz in here whenever you please?"

Libert's voice caught in his throat, fear paralyzing him momentarily. His eyes darted around, searching for a way out, but he knew escape was futile. He was trapped in the clutches of this malevolent entity that posed as a father.

"S-sorr—."

Before he could respond, his mother, a fragile figure, attempted to intervene. Her voice quivered with concern as she pleaded, "Please, calm down. Let's talk about this."

But her words fell on deaf ears. In an act of monstrous cruelty, his father raised his hand, summoning a swirling vortex of darkness. It materialized before them, a menacing portal that seemed to suck the light out of the room.

With a swift motion, his father flung his mother into the abyss, her cries fading into nothingness. Libert's heart shattered at the sight, profound anguish consuming him. He was now alone, abandoned in the realm of his father's wrath.

The atmosphere grew suffocating as his father turned his attention back to Libert, his rage escalating into a hurricane of violence.

Blow after blow rained down upon him, each strike leaving behind harsh bruises and welts. The pain seared through his body, a physical manifestation of the emotional torment he had endured for far too long.

Through the haze of agony, Libert's determination flickered like a flickering flame. He refused to let his father's darkness consume him entirely. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he fought back, his spirit refusing to be extinguished.

But there was nothing that he could do, nothing that he could stop, nothing that he could prevent…nothing. He tried to concentrate in a desperate to summon a portal or awaken his newly found power; but to no avail. He was truly powerless…just like he had always been.

Each blow reeked of bloodlust and alcohol; the wounds from the earlier confrontation caused the state of Libert to worsen even more.

As the relentless assault continued, Libert's mind raced with thoughts of survival. He knew he had to escape this living nightmare, to find a way to break free from the cycle of abuse. One day, he vowed, he would rise above the shadows that had haunted his existence, and reclaim his light.

But for now, in this cruel and harrowing moment, Libert clung to the last remnants of hope, his body bruised, his spirit battered, yet his indomitable will to survive burned like a solitary candle during the storm.

After what seemed to be an eternity, his father's diabolical assault came to an end. Blood seeped from Libert's mouth as he heard the opening of a portal—it was his mother.

The sound of his father's fleeting footsteps was accompanied by the cries of a frantic mother.

"Why did you hit him!" the hysterical cries of Libert's mother filled the atmosphere.

But the disheveled pleas of Mrs. Nexus once again fell on deaf ears.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she took in the sight of her injured son. With trembling hands, she reached out to touch his bruises, her touch a mix of tenderness and guilt.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," she whispered, her voice cracking with a heavy burden. "I tried to stop him, but he's... he's not himself anymore."

Libert winced as she applied a soothing balm to his wounds, her touch offering a fleeting respite from the pain. He gazed at her with a mix of longing and frustration, his voice trembling with the weight of unspoken questions.

"Why do you let him do this to us, Mom?" Libert's voice pierced through the suffocating silence, a rare moment of directness. "Do you truly love him, or are you just afraid?"

His mother's eyes widened, her mouth agape as if his words had struck a chord deep within her soul. Her face contorted with conflicting emotions, torn between the love for her son and the loyalty she felt compelled to show her husband.

"I... I love your father, Libert," she finally murmured, her voice wavering. "But fear... fear has its grip on me too. I'm trapped, just as you are. Please try to understand."

His heart sank as he absorbed her words. The realization that his mother, the one person he had always believed would protect him, was also a captive of this cruel existence, wounded him more deeply than any physical blow. The complexities of love and fear tangled together, intertwining their lives in a twisted dance of pain.

That night, as darkness cloaked the world outside, Libert lay on his bed, replaying the harrowing scene in his mind. His thoughts swirled, a tempestuous storm of anger, frustration, and desperation. His muscles tensed, his hands clenched, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, he whispered into the void.

"If I was stronger, I would make him pay for everything he's done. I would protect us. I would end this nightmare."

The words of his mother hung in the air, a silent declaration of defiance. In the depths of his anguish, a seed of determination sprouted. The flame of resilience burned brighter within him, fueled by the longing for a better life, for freedom from the chains that bound him.

At that moment, Libert vowed to himself that he would find strength, not just in body, but in mind and spirit. He would embark on a journey to transform himself, to become a force to be reckoned with. One day, he would break free from the grip of abuse, not only for his own sake but for his mother's as well.

With newfound resolve, he closed his eyes, imagining a future where he could rewrite the narrative of his life. And as he drifted into a restless sleep, the echoes of his whispered words reverberated through the room, promising a change yet to come.