DEVILS ? C. G. 〖 #wattys2018 〗

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P A R T   O N E :
A C R I M O N Y

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A/N: I think it's really important to mention now that April's character changes dramatically over the course of the story. She won't be like this for the whole story, or even a third of it. Ok, onward now~!

SOTC: Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier
• My peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake •

April's face was shaped like a heart, sweetheart, bittersweet. She watched old VHS tapes of Disney movies, knew every word of Sleeping Beauty. Maleficent was her favorite character. Just 'cause of her dragon morph, which was "Epic as fuck," in her own words.

She wore a battered cargo jacket that she stole from her past, dark green like her eyes.

People said that they were like empty bowls, pupils as little black beads. Like her father's, all her prey saw was the maniacal thrill knifing through her gaze.

April, when she stared into the mirror every morning, didn't need to practice looking switchblade-switchback. Stone-set expression, freckles that seemed more like a bloodsplatter. A murderous curl to her smile. She wasn't a flame, that was reserved for the heroines. More of a monster-in-your-closet kind of girl.

When she strode down the RV steps with her father, you could see the resemblance. Same dark hair. Same kind of carefree violent air to her. Same grin, though hers was more a smirk, malicious intent scrawled across her face.

"Are we all settled down here?" Her hand reached to open her gun holster, the sound of Velcro tearing across the clearing, several of the scared group members around her flinching.

She flicked her head toward them, chuckle bubbling up her throat. "That scared you fuckers?" April drew the beretta, cocking it. The click ricocheted through the trees, making terrified winces shoot into the people's faces.

"Now," she started. "Daddy let me have one of y'all." She rose the gun to the head of a shivering woman, who struck a glare her way.

"Shit. What a bunch of fucking badasses." She blew out a blooming plume of steam into the cold night air, then took a step forward, scanning through faces.

Selecting a teenaged boy, April kneeled down to his level. He had a cowboy hat, dark waterfalls of hair falling out from under it. "I bet that really keeps you warm during the winter. All that..." She pushed a sheet of his hair over with the nose of her gun, taking care to press the cold metal against his jawbone. A sheath of bandage and gauze revealed from underneath the hair.

His remaining eye clicked up to meet hers, and she rose her eyebrows, corners of her mouth ticking upwards. "Shit. That's one fucking steely glare. With one eye? Hella. Impressive."

She rose up to full height, putting a hand in the pocket of her cargo jacket. "What's your name, cowpoke?"

When he didn't answer, April pushed the beretta into his chin, angling his head up at her. "Let me ask again." She leveled the gun with the boy's face. A tremor echoed across his body. "What's your fucking name, or I'll shoot out your—"

"Carl." It came out not as a quiet squeak, but with a shot of defiance.

A laugh burbled up in her mouth. "Carl! No i's in it, I see." She threw back her head. "Shit, this is too fun! Daddy, can I have this one?"

Keeping the gun pointed at the boy, she swiveled toward her father for confirmation. He was smiling, as always. Was that pride in the crinkling of his eyes?

"April, sweetheart, he's all yours."

Looking back at her new plaything, she grinned maniacally. "Aw, yes!" She stamped her foot in triumph, pure joy in her face.

She kicked his legs. "Stand up, Carl-y." He looked up at her, straight into the barrel of her beretta. Moonlight glazed across the red echo of April's strike.

And in his iris, an icy fierceness remained. Cracked. But there.

It wasn't his voice that piped up. "Please. We can work something out, just—"

"Ugh." She gave a sharp glare toward the woman. "Shut up. Please."

She shook her head, so quick it could be mistaken for a shiver. "Please—"

"Shit, lady, just take your cue!" April narrowed her eyes. "Fucking stop talking, or I might put a bullet in Carl-y's head. Got it?"

Then she rolled her eyes, smile returning. "I wouldn't do that to you, Carl-y. I don't want to lose another plaything."

Next, grabbing the collar of the boy's shirt, she yanked him up, forward, gun still level with his nose. Marching toward the RV, she pointed her beretta upwards and fired.

The boom resonated through the clearing, and even some of her father's men winced. April gave a grin, tucking the gun into its holster.

Suddenly stopping, she laid a finger on her lip in wonder. "I almost forgot." Turning, she found the glares of the group, each a little bit more frayed than the last.

She gave a sweeping bow. "It's a performer's duty to thank her audience." She rose, soaking in their fear.

It fueled her. She took each drop of terror onto her thumb, scraping her teeth over the pads of her fingertips to make sure she got as much as possible.

"So, thank you." A brilliant smile. Then she whirled around, shoving her plaything through the thin, stained doors of the RV, entering after him.

He fell down on one of the red pleather benches. April slid up next to him, peering into his face. He was marred with loss and dread, exposed like a peeled-open scab.

She leaned in so his nose was close to her lips. "Are you not entertained?" She whispered, and seeing the ice in his eye finally break, it was everything.

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A/N: How're y'all doing? Enjoyed the first chapter? I'm really excited to get back into the swing of things. Writing by the skin of my teeth is fun as fuck.

Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. April is one stinky bastard, isn't she?

I have this weird obsession with this song? Can't Pretend by Tom Odell? I found it on Spotify while flipping around the playlist suggestions and now I'm wayy too hooked for my own good.

Have a lovely day, you beautiful motherfuckers :P

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Word Count: 1108
Created 11-19-16
Published 12-27-16
Edited 4-22-17
Edited 6-28-17
Edited 8-17-17