disclaimer: i own nothing
Flesh and Blood
No one will ever lay a hand on her.
Even if they did I would finish them up real good, right then. That type of kill wouldn't be fun. It never is fun when I'm infuriated, it's just stressful. But mark my words, if anyone dared hurt my child in any way they would not live to tell the tale.
Funny though, isn't it? I rarely think of my own little girl when I dispose of the ones I come across. I never see her face or hear her voice. I never think of the fathers, all of whom vow the same thing I do. When I see myself bludgeoning my daughter's assailant to death, never once have I contemplated my own face.
She's bright, my Katherine. She's not a dull little brat who screams and tantrums like the children in this town. When I look at her I see something else. I see myself in her eyes and it makes me proud. My girl might look like her mother but inside she's just like me. We have an understanding, a bond I've never shared with anyone. I don't have to hide who I am in front of her. I'm different and she knows it, but at the end of the day I'm just her Daddy.
I never wanted to be a daddy; no one ever taught me how to be a father. Not my foster father, or the so called caring priests, or the crazy son of a bitch that conceived me. I could've ran away from my duties. More than that, I could've taken care of the problem before it got bigger.
When I held her in my arms the first time, I wondered if maybe then I should've killed her quick. Her mother might've been so devastated she would leave me, and there would be no more babies ever. I still don't know why I didn't do it that first day. Sometimes I wonder what was stopping me. Most days I'm happy I didn't do it. I've got my baby girl, and she's got me, no matter what.
Still, there's something in the back of my mind that tells me this can't last. How long until a Papa Bear like myself catches my trail? I'll have to fight him, or them, off of course. Just have to assert myself is all. One or two troublemakers can't bring me down. My blades are more powerful than I believe sometimes. My blades make me a God, a bringer of death. That's the difference between me and everyone else. No one sees why they should be afraid of me. No one, except Katherine.
My darling girl. I've shown her my claws once. She reached out her chubby little fingers and touched the metal, gurgling and staring with those big toddler eyes. Even at her age, I'm sure she knows how they're used. She looked up at me with a confused look on her face. I could slice you in two, little baby. Don't forget what your father is. I wanted to show her how they worked, to run the blades down her back. I was pulled out of the fantasy when she cut her thumb on one. She screamed and bled, and I pulled her into my arms. I would never hurt my baby. You're safe with me.
I hope I never do hurt her. Sometimes I get lost in my own desires. The daydreams get worse every day, not just about her, but everyone. What if I could silence my wife? Or my boss, or my neighbor? It's getting harder to control my impulses. How long can you hide your own greatness?
Maybe one day everyone in this town will truly see how great I am. They will fear me, they will love me, they will be my slaves. Maybe one day I can show who I am to the world. I know I can't do it right now, though. I can't risk losing my Katherine. I am only mortal, they will kill me, or worse, take her from me. She would hate me. She would forget our closeness. She would forget she was born of greatness. I know she will be like me one day, but I have to wait until then to show her my true nature. Maybe then we can both become immortal. Until then, we have to pretend to be like all these people, so dull and weak.
But it doesn't matter.
All I know is this - if anyone tries to hurt my little girl, they're a dead man walking.