She hesitated. That was all she did. She paused for half a second, and then there was a loud SLAP as her mother backhanded her across the face.
Don't cry. No emotion. Come on, Callie, just take two deep breaths.
In. Out. In. Out.
"Try again." Her mother hissed, her red lips close to Callie's ear. She swallowed hard. She gripped the knife tighter. "Now, Calliope!"
And she slit the throat of the bound rabbit.
A cruel smile flitted over her mother's face and then it was gone. Not even a second of pride for her daughter's accomplishment. Her mother sat back in her fur-lined chair and waved a gloved hand towards the door. "Alright, that's enough for today. You may go." Callie kept her face straight and took a single step towards the door to freedom. "Don't forget to clean up your mess!" Ah, of course. There was always a catch.
She was grateful for her gloves, though now she'd have to burn them. What a shame; they were so pretty. White fur on the outside and velvet on the inside. Now the fur was dyed red from the rabbit's blood as Callie carried it by the ear in one hand and caught the dripping liquid in the other. As soon as she was out the door, she threw it down the alley. The goblins would take it for lunch or something. A trashcan at the other end of the alley was filled with fire, but Callie couldn't see whatever homeless creature had started it. She didn't really care, though, and dropped her gloves in gingerly. She managed to go without getting any blood on her skin at all.
And hated that that was considered a victory in her book.
Callie's heels clicked on the cobblestone as she walked briskly. It was dark out and the constant smell of sea salt in the air left a bad taste in her mouth. She hated the ocean, hated everything about it. Life on an island really sucked for her.
Her hands were cold and she clenched them tight. She needed another pair of gloves and quick.
The streets of the Isle were as familiar as the back of her hand. Having grown up with some of the most rambunctious and curious friends ever, they had explored every last inch of the place. Except, you know, the evil lairs. And there were a lot of those, to be fair. But, that was to be expected when you banish every villain ever to the same dinky island. But it was no matter, Callie made it to her secret hideout quite easily. She had found it when she was out exploring with Jay one night when they were ten. All it had been was an empty cavern hidden by a few buildings, but with a little care and decoration (Callie and Evie went a little nuts with the fairy lights) it became a home to the five of them. Much more than their actual houses had ever been.
There was a dark, sheer sheet covering the entrance and it danced in the wind, the fairy lights catching it and making it sparkle. Callie pushed it aside and walked in.
"Finally!" Jay crowed. "You were gone forever, Cal."
"Yeah," Evie said, looking up from her magic mirror. Hand held and perfect for applying makeup. "What did your mom want, anyway?"
Carlos, Callie's younger brother, glanced at her hands and knew. He saved her from answering. "Who cares? Now we can actually have some fun!" Mal squawked and kicked him in the side.
"We were having fun, idiot!" Carlos rolled his eyes.
"I meant real fun, not your stupid little-" The two of them dissolved into another argument. Jay and Callie shared a look and rolled their eyes. They were both a year older than the other three and though they were all close, there were times that the age gap seemed enormous. Callie just waltzed over and slapped her brother upside the head. Gently, though. Not like the slap that still had her cheek stinging. It was lucky that the fairy lights couldn't illuminate just how red her cheek must have been.
"You didn't have to sit around waiting for me then," she said faux sweetly. "You could've had all the fun you wanted. And anyways, I don't feel much like going out." All four of them groaned pathetically. Mal and Evie pouted at her.
She reached on the coffee table and snagged a bit of popcorn, taking her place between Carlos and Mal. "Don't give me that! I'm tired, you guys just go without me." Mal draped herself over Callie's legs dramatically.
"But we've been waiting for hours!" Callie smirked and lifted her knees so Mal rolled onto the floor.
"Your mistake, Mal." She settled into the couch. "Just go, guys. Have fun and make someone cry, why don't you?" Mal popped back with with a smile on her face.
"We haven't messed with Uma lately," Mal said mischievously, a glint in her eye. Sometimes, the purple-haired girl scared Callie. If any of them had an actual affinity for wrongdoings, it was Mal. The poor octopus girl didn't stand a chance.
Evie squealed and grabbed her bag. Carlos cheered and jumped up, stuffing whatever thing he had been fiddling with into his pockets. The three made it to the doorway when they realized Jay hadn't moved. "Yeah, uh, I'll just stay here, too." Jay said. He was sorting his pile of steals for the day. What was good, what was bad, what to show his father, etc. He did it every night, but usually after they ran around the Isle making trouble.
The three of them left, hooting and hollering as they went. It was quiet between Callie and Jay. Just the little tinkle of gold being set on top of silver and the crunch of popcorn. Sometimes, it was nicer this way.
Callie loved her friends, that was for sure. And her brother, too. But sometimes, being around them was so exhausting. They all seemed to love being bad while Callie was going to have nightmares about tonight for weeks. The feeling of blood dripping onto her palm-
She shivered.
Jay snorted, barely looking up from his pile. "You can't possibly be that cold."
He always gave her an out like that. Helped her pretend.
She sniffed haughtily. "It's drafty."
"Gloves don't help that much."
"Mine are used to warmth!" Callie insisted. "They can't stand to be bare. They may freeze before morning." Jay laughed outright and she couldn't hold back her giggles. So what, she had a thing where she liked to wear gloves! She also liked to be dramatic about it.
"I'll find you another pair tomorrow then." Both of her cheeks colored and once more she thanked Hades that he couldn't see.
"I'll be counting on it." She lay out fully on the couch, her heeled feet resting on the armrest. She really was tired. The fairy lights seemed to fade away into nothingness, the tinkle of Jay's work turning into a sort of lullaby.
She bolted awake, feeling as if she were covered in blood. Her hands were bare and her arms void of the red substance, but she still didn't feel clean. That was when she noticed her brother's face above her. She wondered how late it was. Her eyes widened.
"Shit," she said.
"We need to go!" Carlos whispered. Callie jumped up and shoved him a bit.
"You should have just gone home, Carlos," she snapped. She grabbed her bag from the table. It was made of fur, half black and half white, just like her hair.
"You weren't there." Carlos replied simply. Callie grabbed his arm and they ran for home.
They were late for curfew. If the almost-empty streets were any indication, they were way past curfew. In other words, they were dead.
"Why didn't Jay wake me?" Callie asked as they cut through someone's yard. She leapt over a lawn chair. He ducked under a clothesline.
"He was asleep, too. He was out the door before I could wake you." They were good at talking while running. Despite knowing what their mother would to do them, they weren't the best at keeping to curfew. They had these late night runs a lot more often than they should.
They came up to their house- or rather, mansion- and saw that the light was on in the kitchen. She was waiting for them. They shared a look at stared at the blood red door, both too afraid to open it. They'd rather be put to Hades' mercy right then.
"Go climb up the tree and through the hall window," Callie ordered. "I'll cover for you."
"No, Cal-"
"Go!"
She always found a way to keep him safe. That was her job, after all.
She stared at the door, her stomach twisting painfully. Her fingers were numb. Her ankles ached from running in high heels. She waited until she heard Carlos' window shut and then, with as much confidence as she could muster, strode into the house.
Cruella de Vil sat in the dining room, her back to Callie. The lighting made Callie's mother a silhouette, though Callie had never seen one with such wild hair before. She closed the door behind her as softly as possible, though she knew there was no chance she could sneak past.
"And where have you been?" The words could almost have passed as "worried-out-of-her-mind-mother" esque, but the tone was so cold and cruel that no one could have mistaken her for a doting mother.
"I fell asleep," Callie answered quietly. The truth, a lie, it wouldn't matter. Nothing she could say would appease her mother.
Cruella whirled around from her seat, sneering at Callie. Callie tried not to shrink back, but it was hard. Her back bumped into the wooden door softly. She curled her hands into fists.
"You and your rotten little brother, out until who-knows-when," Cruella snapped, "And none of my pelts have been brushed! Not one dish cleaned, not one floor swept. My fur closet looks like a hyena ran through it!"
"Carlos wasn't with me," Callie whispered. "He came home hours ago. Said he had homework to do. For his selfishness class."
Cruella paused at that, her lips pursed. "Really? Well, then why have none of the chores been done, if he's been home for hours?" Her voice dripped with contempt.
Callie swallowed hard. "I told him I'd do them all when I got home. He probably hasn't even noticed how long it's been. You know how he gets." She didn't, though. Cruella knew nothing of either of her children, but Callie knew her mother would never admit to that.
Another slap came Callie's way, not unanticipated in the slightest. What was unanticipated, though, was the dragging of her mother's nails over her right cheek. Callie froze, her cheek stinging as blood made its way down her freckled face. She raised a hand to touch it, as if it would only be real if she felt the sticky blood for herself with her own fingers, but her mother batted her hand away.
"Brush the pelts, sweep the floors, do the dishes." Cruella was already walking up the stairs. "I want breakfast on the table when I wake up, do you hear?"
"Yes, mother."
Her mother's fur closet was larger than the room Callie and Carlos had to share. She sat on the floor, careful not to trigger any of the traps littered throughout the wardrobe, and began brushing the pelts until they were smooth and pretty. Carlos silently joined her, sitting across from her. He didn't comment on her cheek.
As they sat there, brushing pelt after pelt, the only thing that crossed Callie's mind was, there has to be something more to life than this.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! I really like how it came out. If you really like it, leave a review! Maybe, if enough people want it, I can continue on and have Callie go off to Auradon ;)