Psycho Chan's Note: Only midnight tonight! And I'm chewing sugar fee gum and milk today…what the fuck am I doing!?!? Have I gone sane!?

I'm back with a bowel of sugar coated marshmallows(Peeps) and coffee. That's more like it. I'm in one of my modes were I can't write anything else until I write this so…I'm writing this as fast as I can and than I'll smack this online…then I'll write normal stories…and possibly cute and adorable ones because this is draining all my sadisticness out of me…NOT! I just wanna get all this out for the normal stuff…yeah…sorry.

That apology was more towards my fiancé than anyone else…

Cut Six: Jay

He returned home. And everything picked up like nothing happened. Like he never went away.

"What the hell happened to you boy?" Jay's cruel, raspy voice demands shortly after ripping off his son's shirt. He was referring to the black flesh on his lower torso. "Looks like you got burned." Amusement sinks into his voice. "Wish I saw it."

Laying there, HotStreak, no, Francis allows himself to be abused. He had since he was released from the hospital at age eight.

"How long you stayin' this time?" The man removes his belt, snapping it in his grasp. "Cuz I don't have to ya here anymore. Your whorish ass is over eighteen." Swinging his arm back, Jay swings the belt hard against his son's chest, loving how the sound of leather hitting skin sounded. However, he loved the sight of blood more.

"Only for a little bit…" Francis shudders, arching in pain slightly. He only planned on being here for a week. Then he'd find Ebon and take him up on that offer on joining the Meta Breed. Now it seemed like that week might feel like a year. More strikes were blown on his swollen chest, the red liquid splattering as it was smacked by the belt.

Having his fill of blood, Jay moved on, eyeing the lifeless form of his son. It angered him that the boy no longer begs for him to stop and that he actually got off on the pain he inflicted, but…then again, he was raised to do that. Over come being weak. And begging was weak. "Very well. I'll use you as I please until then." Bored, Jay wraps the belt around his son's neck, pulling it snuggly against the skin. If the need to arises, he'd yank it when ever Francis disobeyed.

Silently agreeing, Francis allows his jeans to be removed, then his boxers. He waited as Jay striped himself, revealing many scars of his own. Francis was not at all surprised by the fact that they looked just like his. He knew his grandfather fairly well. He was the one person Jay hated like you would not believe. At age fourteen, Francis figured out that it wasn't Jay's fault, entirely, that he was the way he was. His mother was murdered in front of him by his father, then abused. The man simply treated others the way he was raised. Bad.

A loud groan forces itself out of Francis's mouth as his father thrust into without much of a warning. The younger man arched off the bed, pressing his head into the pillow as much as it would allow. The pained pleasure was sickening but some how comforting. In his mind, this was fair punishment for what he had done to Static. This wasn't rape but even enough in his mind.

His screams got louder as nails dig into the gashes on his chest, ripping them apart so more blood seeped through. Knowing what the other man liked best, Francis let the power of fire over take him, heating his body to scorching temperatures. Jay shudders violently at the sudden heat, arching. Overtaken by the sensation, long haired man comes deep within his son, pleased to see him finish as well.

Both pant loudly, one from having just done a few hookers and the other from the abuse. Jay pulls out and dresses quickly. "Your mother will be home in a few days."

Francis felt as if he were hit by a train. "What?" He mutters in shock, sitting up, letting blood stream down him.

"Diana. You mother. She'll be back. She left town yesterday for work. She'll be back in a couple days."

"When did she come back?" The last time he saw her was when he was in the hospital. He was very lost.

"Shortly after you ran away. I called her up."

"Then why didn't you do that years ago instead of dragging Tammy and I around, missing her?"

A cruel smile spreads across Jay's face. "What fun would that be?" The man spoke slowly, staring coldly. Neither said a word as the man left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Francis just sat on his bed. Stunned. All this time he was able to…and he just fuckin'…

In a blind rage, the red head took out his knife. His eyes turned white as his hair gave off that lavender smoke. Without much control, he slashed his left wrist. But that wasn't enough. It didn't do the trick like it had before. Francis flipped the handle of the knife so he held it blade down, then began to slash at his thighs.

After a few slashes, his eye sight got blurry and his head began to spin. The red head dropped the knife, falling into the blood sheets.

He learned a very simple lesson that night. His father sucked. A lot.