Work Text:
Click
The air was cold. But felt so sharp. For here we see the poor young boy named Murdoc Niccals. Hiding away in the closet underneath the stairs. He knew he couldn’t hide in his bedroom, or even outside. His father would always find him.
Clack
The sharp sounds of dress shoe heels hitting the floor flooded the large, empty house. The sound was nothing more than a small reaction but it caused mass amounts of fear and pain. The small boy was cowered in near a long, silken dress. The one dress his adoptive mother wore to fancy parties. A faded stain of what the young boy thought to be red wine. But it's never that dark when dried.
Click
Louder. It was getting louder. Murdoc grabbed onto the silky material, remembering her loving touch. The gentle kisses after every scrape, or bruise. Where had mommy gone? Where was his warm kiss goodnight? Where was the person who balanced out his father?
Clack.
The walking stopped; and a sudden Thump on the ground. His father’s wooden cane.
“Murdoc, my son. I know You're in there. You left a trail of your filth.”
Truthfully, murdoc did leave a small trail of blood that was dripping from his now broken nose. His brother, Hannibal, had done the damage. Feeling at the warm liquid now hitting the dusty floor he realized how stupid he was.
“Dad, Please, I'm sorry I didn't mean to get blood on your shoes..”
Murdoc had spoken meekly, an uncontrollable shake filling his soul and body. He could hear his father’s slight growl of anger
“You, Murdoc caused this to yourself. If you’d had been a man you wouldn't've been Hit by your brother.”
Sebastian had venom in his tone and was struggling with the door, trying to force it open. However Murdoc had locked it. The only thing keeping him from his father’s strikes is a flimsy lock. All of this over a small bit of paper.
_____
“Hannibal, please give it back!”
The young pleads and cries filled the dim, disgusting room. Here we see Murdoc and his brother fighting over a slightly folded letter, The Writing neat and small. The writing of his mother.
“You didn’t even know her as long as I did, besides, she’s not even your real mom.”
The words stung the little boy. It's all he had left of his mother. It was written for him, anyway why would Hannibal need it?
“Why are you such a.. An Asshole!”
The words were quick out of the boy’s mouth, not truly understanding the meaning behind it. It's not until a growl and his brother’s look of hate, that Murdoc realized he wouldn't be getting that letter back.
One quick hit to the nose and Murdoc had fallen back, watching the letter be placed in a hole in the bricks in Hannibal’s room, for who knows how long.
___
The thoughts of the past hour flashed in his head again. Picture to picture.
Murdoc was starting to shift to the corner a bit, hitting a small box in the very back corner. It pinned his attention for a second, until the shout from his frustrated father snapped him back
“Murdoc Alphonce Niccals! You get your Ungrateful Arse out here Now!”
The door kept rattling, the only thing stopping the noise was murdoc’s small hands. But even pressing them against his ears didn’t do much to stop the banging of his father’s fists against the wooden door.
However soon enough Murdoc had enough, and didn't want to prolong it any longer.
With a kick back at the door, Sebastian was a bit surprised and pulled back a bit, the kick had so much force from his ‘son’ No. Murdoc was a scrawny sod with nothing going for him.
However the small click of the door unlocking and the turn of the nob said otherwise, it was meek again. It wasn’t long until Murdoc had opened the door, standing there, tear stains down his cheeks, eyes red and nose bent slightly out of shape. Along with a puffier eye than normal crying.
It's sad to say but Sebastian is happy about the fact that the Niccals’ Home is far, far away from any nosy neighbors.
Wouldn't wanna get a noise complaint, now would we?