Heaven's Gaze
Disclaimer: Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing that you recognize.
Chapter 1 - Cruelty
Warm rivulets of blood cascaded past his wrists, flowing from his wounds as he bled his mother's sins upon the floor. He knew that it was wrong, he knew that good little boys and girls didn't bleed magic. They didn't fall to the floor, convulsing and screaming as darkness built within their veins.
It never occurred to him that he was meant to do these things. But these things had become twisted and rotten, dying from the inside out like poison that leeched into his bones. When it came it stole the breath from his lungs, silencing his voice so that he couldn't speak, couldn't scream even if he knew the words he wanted to say. His mouth would open in silent torment, and his body would collapse. Down, down, into the burning pits of Hell. For those who possessed such an ability must surely fall, down into the flames where they belong.
Quickly it came, but slowly it would fall, purged in silence as she struck him with his belt. There were times she forced him down on his knees, whipping him across his back, arms and chest. She had trained him well, and never did he make a sound as rivers of blood mingled with the tears that stained his face.
That blood, that impurity that she must cleanse with violence, now stained the floor beside his bed. Credence knew she would be furious with him when she saw the bloodstains on the floor. And yet he couldn't force himself to move. He closed his eyes, has hands shaking as he touched the gash on his forehead. He tried not to think about how he got there, how he managed to see his sister from somewhere near the ceiling. She was sleeping as he watched her, as he swept through the house with cold fury the likes of which this city has never seen before.
But his anger wasn't directed at her. And so he let himself fall, his fingers brushing against the glass, the moonlight streaming across his face. One moment where he attempted to hold on, to reach out to those around him. It was enough to remind him of his fate, to make him remember his humanity. A thing which seemed fleeting even at the best of times.
A low, shuddering breath slipped past his lips, his eyes slowly moving across the darkened room. Panic gripped his chest, suffocating him as he heard his mother's voice from somewhere down the hall. It wasn't until he heard her voice that he felt the strength to move, his hands reaching for the pitcher on the nightstand. And in his haste the pitcher slipped from his grasp, spilling water down the front of his shirt.
"Credence!" Louder this time. She was getting close. "What's going on in there?"
Credence knelt beside the bed, clutching the pitcher against his chest. He had spilled most of water on himself, and yet he couldn't help feeling as though it weren't enough - it was never enough - to cleanse the evil that stained his soul. He washed the blood off his face and hands, then scrambled to pull a faded handkerchief from his pocket. He had to hurry. He couldn't let her see him like this.
He finished cleaning the blood off clothes then flung the soiled handkerchief under the bed. He was about to set the pitcher on the nightstand when the door opened. Credence froze when he saw her, her shadow falling across the floor as she stood in the doorway. There was a moment in which the clock seemed to fail, no longer counting the seconds as she gazed at him from across the room. His heart beat faster as she walked through the door, his breath hitching as she placed her hand beneath his chin, tilting his head back as she carefully examined him.
Blood ran into his eye, stinging and hot, but he did not move or attempt to clean himself. Not when she was glaring at him with the hatred of a thousand furious angels.
"Ma," he whispered, trembling as he gazed fearfully into her eyes. "Ma, please..." His words were cut short by a stinging blow as she slapped him across the face. The blow left him staggering, falling to the floor where he curled in on himself, her angry voice ringing in his ears.
He was given a moment before he felt her hand close around his wrist, forcing him up as she continued to yell at him. She ordered him to remove his belt, then told him to take off his shirt and stand in the corner. Credence did as he was told, sniffling and whimpering as he braced himself for what was coming. It didn't matter that he'd injured himself in the fall, a fall which resulted from one of his partial transformations. She was unaware of his condition, but knew enough about what he was to administer punishment whenever he started acting strangely.
Credence had been taught to accept his punishment, believing that pain was necessary to cleanse him of his sins. It was a reminder of Christ's suffering, and it helped counteract the desires of the flesh. For although his physical body longed to use the gift that he'd been given, in his heart he knew that it was wrong. And so he allowed his mother to beat him, thinking that the pain he felt would force him to concentrate on more spiritual matters.
He closed his eyes and felt the belt slap against his bare skin. Again and again she lashed, until he felt the blood begin to flow. She left him lying in the corner, the door slamming behind her as she exited the room. Credence started shaking, hugging his knees and sobbing. Somewhere in the distance the sun was beginning to rise, its golden light creeping across the dusty floor. He could see it shining at the far side of the room, a mirror image of his own life, forever bathed in darkness with the light of salvation so very far away.
~oOo~
If this is real - well it feels like hell
Yes it feels like hell
Gods and angels and devils smile
Stare into our crying eyes
Fire in anger and hate beguile
But look into your heart tonight
-from "Heaven's Gaze" by The Cruxshadows
