Author's note:
Thanks for reading! This chapter is going to continue some outdated terms, as this story takes place in the early 1900s. The whole story in general will contain offensive content/outdated words, terms, and violence as America was segregated and racist during these times. ((TW!))
She knew.
Alastor's mother just knew.
He could feel it.
The moment he walks into their home, alone with a grave expression on his face, a look of confusion followed by a grim understanding crosses hers.
She says nothing.
So neither does he.
This is how the next week passes, with Alastor quickly taking over his father's daily roles: Tending to the shop, cutting up the deer he hunts, chopping wood for his mother, and so forth. His mother -slowly but surely- blossoms, once again filling the house with beautiful melodies from her beloved piano. She smiles more, he notices happily. They we're finally free. Free from the abuse, threats, and harsh words.
And it was all because of him.
It had been a quiet week, the voices in his head that whispered through the days prior having been silent since the day he had killed-... since the day his father had disappeared. Their regular customers fell for the false tears and story that he had come up with: his father had gone into the woods alone one morning and they hadn't seen him since. He and his mother had spread the word of him being missing, playing the roles of heartbroken wife and worried son so well that no one ever even suspected that either of them could be guilty. After all, his father had seen to it that no one knew their family had dark secrets, and for all they knew, their family had been picture perfect. He'd inadvertently created the perfect cover-up for his own murder.
But the peace only lasts for a little over half a year, when as Alastor is out in the woods hunting, a terrified scream echoes through the trees. He gives in to his curiosity and follows the voice, and the closer he crept, the easier he could pick out the sound of two voices. Only when he realizes where he's headed, does his blood run cold.
He's walking along the same path that he and his father had the day he'd killed him. He was walking directly towards the spot where he'd put that bullet through his head. Had he been found out? Did they discover something he had neglected to get rid of? Would he be able to kill two more people quickly enough to continue hiding his secret?
The voices become more distinct: one a deep male's, the other a small female's. The latter's tone is... frightened, while the former's is comforting.
"Leave me alone!"
"Come here, Luce. You stop all that runnin'."
Crashing footsteps come closer, forcing Alastor to crouch down and peek through the foliage. He can see two figures now.
A larger, dark-skinned male stands roughly 15 feet away from a smaller female. The girl is young, probably around his age if he had to guess. Two long braids hang down her back, with wild, fuzzy curls pulled free from their hold. Her hair is tangled with sticks and leaves, as if from a fall or struggle. She's clad only in a light blue nightgown, with no shoes despite the early morning weather's chill. Her back is to him, so he can't see her face, but the tone of her voice gives away that she's crying.
"Go away!" She yells, bending down to pick up a rock to throw at the man. "Don't touch me!"
He easily side-steps the rock, advancing on her slowly despite her obvious terror. His hands are held out, as if trying not to spook her with his gentle approach. "Lucille, please. There's no one out here to help you, so just come on and get it over with."
The girl -Lucille- quickly scurries backwards and trips, falling on her back with an oof. She scrambles back on her hands, trying to find the strength to push herself up to her feet again. She lets out a hiccuping sob, her small shoulders shaking. "I'LL TELL MAMA!" She screams. "I'll tell her and she'll make you go away!"
At those words, the man's demeanor instantly changes. Anger crosses his face, so suddenly that it makes Alastor's body freeze.
That look was so much like his father's.
"If you breathe so much as a word to your mama, I'll kill you both." He sneers. "She won't make me leave. Your broke whore of a mama needs my money to live, and single women 'round these parts can't afford to take care of a kid." He spits the last word like it's a curse. "I'm the only daddy you'll ever know, seein' as how yours ain't want to have anythin' to do with you because you're disgustin'."
Lucille tries to push herself up on the tree she scrambles back to, but instead, her hand slips and-
Oh...
She looks slowly to the side and down, her hand retracting slowly from the mound beneath fallen, decaying leaves. Her hand goes back to it, gripping and pulling up his father's shotgun from the earth.
It's the man whose body freezes this time. "Where the fuck did you get that?" He snaps, fear leaking into his tone. "Put it down."
With shaky hands, Lucille aims the gun at him. "You're gonna leave me here," She says, trying to keep her fearful voice steady. "A-...And you're gonna pack your bags and leave our house." The way she held the gun would cause her harm if she shot it, but Alastor dared not interrupt.
"Are you threatenin' me?"
"You're gonna leave our house." She repeats. "And you'll never touch me or my mama again."
He hesitates before looking at the gun for a moment. "...It ain't even loaded. So you better put it down before you make things worse." He says.
He's lying. Alastor knew for a fact that the gun was cocked and loaded.
Lucille looks at the weapon in her hand with despair, lowering it.
It's then that the man takes advantage of her hesitation and darts forward, hand outstretched to snatch the gun from her hold.
The moments following this happen almost in slow motion.
She raises the gun, and before he can even register what's about to happen, she pulls the trigger.
BLAM!
Blood sprays the trees and bushes around her once again, soaking her dress with gore. His body collapses, falling on top of her with a heavy thud, with only bits and pieces of a bottom jaw and teeth still attached to it's stump of a neck.
Lucille screams, pushing the body off of her. She rolls over on her hand and knees, fingers digging into the earth as she vomits up her stomach's contents. Tears run down her face and she dry heaves until she can take a deep, shuddering breath. She spits a few times before coughing and collapsing, seemingly unconscious.
Alastor stands up and walks carefully over to the scene, lightly kicking the body over with the tip of his boot, scowling in disgust. It was obvious to him what had been happening. This creature had... taken liberties with this young girl, and she'd tried to run away. It was clear he wasn't her father from how he'd spoken, but a person who'd taken advantage of her family's weakness to get what he wanted.
It made him sick.
Alastor kneels down to look at the girl, Lucille, finally seeing her face in detail for the first time.
She was a mulatto girl from the looks of it. Long black lashes brush her cheeks in her unconsciousness, blood spray covering her light brown skin. She had a tiny mole beneath her right eye, with full lips and a round, small nose below them.
He gently pulls the gun away from where it's fallen from her small hands and straps it to his back. This time he was taking it with him, and after a moment of surveying the scene he gets to work. Alastor makes quick work of this body, much quicker than he had with his father's now that he had more experience. He takes the meat that he can and buries the rest, spreading the severed pieces around the forest and taking care not to step on Lucille as he does so. He admired her bravery, so he'd clean up the mess for her. He may not have killed the man but he was partially responsible, having left a loaded gun in the forest.
Not that death wasn't exactly what he'd deserved.
When Alastor's done is when he starts to hear the girl stirring. For a moment, he debates leaving her alone to find her way back, but the woods were vast and she had a better change of getting even more lost. That, and she was covered in blood, which would raise more questions and potentially put her in more danger. As well as himself.
So he waits for her to open her eyes.
Dark brown irises eventually meet his when her eyelids flutter open, and once she's fully conscious, she scrambles back against the tree. Her eyes are wild with confusion and fear as they quickly scan over her surroundings, ultimately landing on the spot where the ground is the most soaked with blood. She opens her mouth for a brief moment before it snaps shut, her eyes drifting back to him in question.
"He's gone." Alastor answers. "I took care of it."
Lucille hesitates before hugging her knees to her chest. "I-... I didn't mean to kill 'im." She says, voice so soft and shaky it's almost hard to hear. "He just... got too close."
Alastor scoffs and waves a dismissive hand, "Seems to me like he had it coming."
She's silent for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Why did you help me?" She asks.
"Why does anybody do anything?" He shrugs. "You looked like you needed help. And still do." He motions to her bloodied clothes. "Follow me."
Lucille gives him a cautious once-over before standing up, keeping her distance. "No," she says once they start walking. "Why did you help me?"
Alastor doesn't turn to respond. "The color of your skin means nothing to me. My mother taught me to help those in need, so I do it."
"Does your mama know you know how to get rid of a body?"
"...She may."
Lucille's questions falls silent immediately at that, and Alastor has to turn to make sure she's still behind him. "...Where are you taking me?" The fear in her voice is evident. "You're not gonna-...?"
Alastor laughs once, "Absolutely not! How ridiculous of me would it be to save you only to kill you anyway?" He motions to her clothes. "I'm taking you to get a fresh pair of clothes, since going about your day covered in blood is something that would cause... disorder."
When they emerge from the treeline and the Bechard home comes into view, Alastor's mother is already standing on the back porch. Her eyes turn from anxious to relieved when they land on him, but when they flick to the blood and dirt covered girl at his side they turn worried. "...What happened?"
"I didn't harm her, if that's what you're concerned about." He says, attempting to comfort her. "There was... an incident in the woods, with a miscreant who threatened her safety. It's taken care of."
Genevieve's voice softens, "Threatened her safety? How so?"
"Her... innocence was being threatened."
His mother's eyes harden. "Bring her in." She says, before turning around and walking into the house.
For the next hour or so, Alastor sits waiting in the parlor for his mother to finish helping Lucille clean up. Once they're done, he looks up to see the two walking towards him.
Lucille wears one of his mother's old dresses, one that she hadn't been able to fit since before Edward was born. It was just small enough to fit Lucille's tiny frame perfectly. Her hair had been washed, her curls damp and hanging down her back. "And you're sure I can keep this?" She asks softly. "It looks... very expensive."
"It wasn't getting any wear, just sitting in my closet. It's no concern." Genevieve reassures her.
"Do you know your way home from here?" Alastor asks, standing up.
Lucille turns to him and nods. "I live on the other side of the wood." She tells him.
"And you're not afraid to go alone?"
It's then that she hesitates. It wasn't dark out yet, but the woods were vast. It was easy to get lost if you didn't know your way around them.
"I'll walk you back to where I found you, then."
So off they go, heading back into the woods with a goodbye waved to him mother. Once they get back to where he'd found her, he walks further with her until she recognizes her surroundings.
"And... thank you again, for your help." Lucille says quietly. "I just need to figure out what to tell mama."
Alastor reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills, some from the wallet of the dead man but most from his home. "Tell her he took off and left you alone. Gave you this." He supplies. "It should be enough to help you two along for a while."
Lucille's eyes widen, "Oh no, I can't accept that!"
He sighs and steps forward, pushing the money into her hand. "Consider it a 'thank you', for keeping this all a secret then."
She hesitates for a moment before nodding, closing her fist around the money. Then, without another word, she turns and disappears amongst the trees.
Now it was just a waiting game to see if she really did keep their shared secret. If she didn't, then all of the careful planning he'd gone through would unravel in the blink of an eye.