The Daughter of The Creeper
How could she have not known? Her own blood is filled with his.
She shares his shame, guilt, and pain.
Some would call them cold-blooded monsters, but her dad always told her…
“you won’t understand now but when you’re a little older you will.”
It was inherited.
His dad and his dad’s dad and the dad before that.
All monsters.
It’s believed it was a family curse.
A house fire.
Everyone inside died.
And she believes it.
Especially when she wakes up in the middle of the night feeling as though her lungs are filled with smoke.
She hated seeing the way her dad looked after the spring’s feast.
Ashamed.
Yet, shaking with adrenaline.
She would tell him he doesn’t have to do this.
But he would just say through his sharp teeth...
“I don’t have a choice”
And neither will she.
It haunted her knowing soon she will need to eat others.
She’s too sensitive.
The stupid family curse was all she would ever be.
She would stare into the mirror so close her noses would touch.
Engraving her birth features into her memory.
Fearing she will forget them.
She always wondered who her Dad was before being The Creeper.
Sometimes she could see him.
Under the layers of his leathered skin.
A kid just trying to make his Dad proud.
Maybe she could save him.
And take on his misery.
On the 23rd night of the spring feast.
She quietly waited in the damp lare.
Counting the blood drip off the ceiling bodies.
As she was nodding off she heard her dad slowly dragging in a catch.
She wasn’t allowed to be in the lair.
Let alone watch him.
The body flopped against the floor.
Her dad took a breath and walked towards the radio to switch it on.
“I don't care how the weather vane points,
when the weather vane points to gloomy
it's gotta be sunny to me,
when your eyes look into mine.”
Her dad then began hoisting up the body.
She was frozen.
Watching herself rip out and eat a pair of eyes.
Before she could even swallow.
She grabbed her Dad’s ax.
The family heirloom.
And like muscle memory.
Swung the ax.
Cutting off her Dad’s head.
Mourning doves cooed in the distance.
When she found the bravery to look down.
Her Dad was staring back at her with tearful eyes of a victim.