章節 2: 1.
A/N: This story was inspired by 'When We Meet Again' by RockyRant and Rainbowpanda on Ao3. The link to their story is below. (so, if you see, it looks somewhat identical, that's why, but it's different plots. Also, it's a huskerdust fanfic.)
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Kookie
----
In the hallowed halls of my church, they spoke of a light, a celestial beacon guiding souls to the gates of heaven upon their passing. Some found solace in this belief, while others harbored doubts. I counted myself among the faithful, though my transgressions made me question whether such grace would ever be extended to me.
Imagine my astonishment when I was enveloped in a blinding brilliance, an illumination that surpassed the sun itself, leading me to the pearly gates.
Heaven.
That moment occurred seven decades ago, precisely.
Seventy years of celestial bliss.
Seventy years since our last embrace.
Every day, I've lingered by those gates, anticipating his arrival in the same spot where I first awoke. Yet, each passing day brings only silence and solitude. Seventy years is an eternity; surely he cannot still draw breath. It defies reason. He should be here... shouldn't he?
"Papa, are you alright?" The tender voice of my daughter Adeline pierces through my reverie, bringing me back to the present. I turn to behold her, her gaze filled with the same concern that has become all too familiar during my vigil.
"I'm fine, Addy," I offer her a reassuring smile, though it feels feeble even to my ears. Moving closer, I reach out to gently caress her cheek, seeking solace in the warmth of her presence. She leans into the touch, but her furrowed brow betrays her lingering unease.
"Papa, do you ever wonder if... if he's not here?" Adeline's voice trembles with uncertainty, echoing the doubts that have gnawed at my own heart.
The question hangs heavy in the air, laden with unspoken fears. I have pondered it before, but each time I've pushed the thought aside, unable to fathom the possibility. "No, he belongs here. He was good, like his mother," I assert, my gaze returning to the majestic gates of heaven.
Adeline sighs softly behind me, her arms encircling me in a tender embrace. "I know, Papa. But after all this time, if he's not here..." Her voice trails off, heavy with unspoken sorrow.
I hold her close, seeking to offer what little comfort I can. "I miss him too, Adeline. But he's here. He has to be," I insist, though the words ring hollow even to my ears.
"He's not, Papa. Em told me," Adeline's revelation pierces through the fragile veneer of denial I've clung to for so long.
My heart falters, a wave of anguish crashing over me. "How...?" I manage to choke out, the realization hitting me with a force that leaves me breathless.
"He was a serial killer," Adeline's words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the harsh truth I've been so desperate to deny.
At that moment, the weight of seventy years of waiting comes crashing down upon me, leaving me to grapple with the bitter reality that the one I've longed for all this time is forever beyond the reach of salvation.
Adeline
---
I stood alone on the balcony of my dad's bookshop, gazing out over the vibrant lights that adorned the city below. The moon, full and radiant as ever, cast its ethereal glow, bathing everything in its silvery luminescence. It was always full, never waning or shifting through its phases. Just full, like it had something to prove.
Last week, during a visit to Emily, she stumbled upon an old log book in the palace library. Its pages chronicled the souls damned to hell, cataloging their sins and the atrocities that condemned them. Yet, it seemed the recent entries were missing, leaving a chilling void in the records.
"Alastor Hartfelt," Emily had murmured, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and dread. "Died in 1933, but no specific date. Over 30 lives were claimed in New Orleans. A notorious serial killer, it seems."
A serial killer. The revelation struck me like a blow, shattering the image of the kind and caring man I had known for so many years. Alastor, or Al as I fondly called him, had always treated me as his own, despite the lack of blood ties.
"You don't need shared blood to be family," he'd often say, his words a comforting mantra in my tumultuous life.
What had driven him to such madness? Even after my father's passing, Al remained a pillar of kindness and compassion, his grief palpable but never tipping into malevolence. So what changed?
With a heavy sigh, I retreated from the balcony and returned to my room. My gaze fell upon a photograph resting on my nightstand – a cherished memento of happier times. In it, Alastor and I smiled together, captured in a moment of pure joy during my father's and his wedding. He had become my stepfather that day, sealing our bond in love and acceptance.
I lifted the photograph, tracing the contours of our faces with a frown.
"What happened to you, Al?" I murmured, the question lingering unanswered in the quiet of my room.
Across the hall, my dad's door remained closed, a silent testament to his grief. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him so distraught, perhaps not since our mortal days when I was too young to understand.
Clutching the photograph to my chest, I made a sudden, reckless decision. Beyond the pearly gates of heaven, there existed a forbidden area – a vantage point from which the damned could gaze upon the fiery depths of hell. It was strictly off-limits, reserved only for the highest-ranking angels. But curiosity, it seemed, had gotten the better of me.
I spread my wings and took flight, darting from building to building with practiced stealth. It was exhilarating, navigating the cityscape with the ease of a seasoned aviator. I could understand now why heroes reveled in such exploits.
Arriving at the gates, I peeked through the bars, but St. Peter was conspicuously absent. Odd, I thought, but it made my impromptu excursion all the more convenient. With a determined resolve, I slipped through the bars and made my way toward the forbidden zone.
As I approached, a sense of foreboding crept over me. A sign warned against entry, but like so many before me, I ignored it, drawn inexorably toward the edge of the precipice.
Peering over the edge, I beheld the infernal landscape below – a sprawling city of torment and despair. It was a sight that filled me with a profound sense of gratitude for my place in heaven, yet it also filled me with a gnawing sense of unease.
How could someone I had known as the epitome of kindness and warmth be consigned to such a fate? The unanswered question hung heavy in my mind, eclipsing the anguish of loss that still lingered within me.
Lost in my contemplation, I failed to notice the photograph slipping from my grasp until it was too late. Panic seized me as it plummeted toward the abyss below, my futile attempts to snatch it back were halted by the realization that I, too, stood perilously close to the edge.
"What are you doing here?" A stern voice shattered the stillness, jolting me back to reality. I turned to find myself face to face with an angelic figure clad in dark armor, their expression unreadable behind a black mask.
"I... I was just curious," I stammered, struggling to find an excuse for my transgression. "I won't come back, I promise."
The angel regarded me with a steely gaze, their skepticism palpable. "Curiosity is no excuse for trespassing in forbidden territory. Who do you live with?"
"My dad," I replied, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.
"Name?" the angel pressed, their lips twisting into a knowing smirk.
"Kookie Hartfelt."
The smirk widened into a grin, tinged with a hint of malice. "Oh, he's going to be very disappointed in you."
I swallowed hard, knowing all too well the repercussions of my actions. But in that moment, as I faced the consequences of my curiosity, one question continued to haunt me:
What had happened to Al?
Kookie
---
I lay on my bed, the weight of sleeplessness pressing heavy upon me, my eyes raw from hours of tears. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, the digits announce the late hour – 12:59 am, almost 1 am. With a weary sigh, I rise from my bed, the need for cold water pulling me from the cocoon of blankets.
As I step into the hallway, my gaze falls upon Adeline's empty room across from mine. Where could she have gone? My head throbs with an unidentifiable ache, but I push the thought aside, focusing instead on reaching the solace of the kitchen.
Navigating the familiar path downstairs, I find refuge in the cool embrace of the fridge, retrieving a bottle of water to quench my parched throat. But before I can take a single sip, a sharp knock pierces the silence, startling me from my reverie.
Setting the water aside, I move toward the bookshop door, flicking on a lamp to illuminate the darkness. Peering through the crack, I'm greeted by the sight of Adeline standing on the doorstep, accompanied by a black-masked angel.
"Is something the matter?" I murmur, my confusion mounting as the masked figure speaks with a disconcerting smirk. "Mr. Hartfelt, your daughter was found near the pit," they announce, their grip tightening around Adeline's arm. My heart lurches at the mention of such a perilous location.
"The pit? What possessed you to go there?" I demand, my gaze shifting to Adeline, who meets my eyes with an inscrutable expression, offering no explanation. The angel continues, their words chilling me to the core. "She disobeyed God's rules."
"But she's just a child, she doesn't deserve—" I begin, my protest cut short by the angel's unyielding resolve. "Angels don't make mistakes. Demons do," they retort coldly.
Frustration boils within me, the injustice of it all burning like a fire in my chest. "Please, there must be another way," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice.
The angel offers a grim ultimatum, forcing me to make an impossible choice. "Either she faces the consequences, or you take her place. Say your farewells until morning."
With a heavy heart, I usher Adeline inside, the weight of her transgression hanging heavy between us. "What were you thinking, Adeline?" I whisper, struggling to contain my own tumultuous emotions.
"I just wanted to see," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, tears welling in her eyes. "I wanted to understand why... why he was down there. He seemed so kind, but he was a monster all along. I trusted him, Papa."
Her words pierce through me, a stark reminder of the fragile innocence she clings to, despite the harsh realities that surround her. With a heavy sigh, I pull her into a tight embrace, offering what little comfort I can.
Hours pass in a blur of tears and whispered apologies, until finally, Adeline's sobs subside into quiet sniffles. "You knew the consequences, Adeline," I say gently, my tone a mixture of sternness and compassion.
"I know, Papa. I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice tinged with remorse.
Cupping her cheeks in my hands, I meet her gaze with a solemn determination. "I'll take your place," I declare, the weight of my decision settling heavily upon me. "But you must promise me, Adeline. Promise me you won't do this again."
Her eyes search mine, uncertainty flickering within their depths. "But you don't deserve—"
"Neither do you," I interject firmly, my resolve unwavering. Pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, I implore her once more. "Promise me."
After a moment's hesitation, she nods, her voice barely a whisper. "I promise."
With a heavy heart, I prepare to face the consequences of her actions, hoping against hope that I'll find a way back to her.
[third person]
---
As Kookie's sister, Ady, spoke those comforting words, her hands enveloped in his, he felt a fleeting sense of reassurance amidst the chaos of the moment. He had entrusted her with his beloved bookshop, a tangible piece of his heart, knowing she would care for it as if it were her own.
"Thank you, Ady," Kookie murmured, a grateful smile gracing his lips as he returned her embrace. She had always been his rock, his unwavering support, and he found solace in her presence, even in the darkest of times.
But as their brief exchange drew to a close, a wave of apprehension washed over him at the sight of the approaching angels. Their masked faces bore an air of authority, their solemn demeanor sending a shiver down his spine.
He turned to Ady with a pleading look, a silent plea for her to watch over Adeline in his absence. "You'll take care of Adeline too, won't you? Once she gets out?" he implored, his voice laced with concern. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving his daughter without someone to guide and protect her.
Ady's smile softened, her eyes reflecting the depth of her love and commitment. "Of course, I will," she reassured him, her voice unwavering. "I love my nephew, Kookie. I would never let anything happen to her."
With a sigh of relief, Kookie nodded, a weight lifting from his shoulders at her promise. He knew Ady would keep her word, that she would be a steadfast guardian for Adeline in his absence.
But as the masked angels closed in around him, their silent presence a harbinger of the inevitable, Kookie's smile faltered. He clung to his sister for a fleeting moment longer, drawing strength from her embrace before reluctantly allowing himself to be led away.
As he walked toward the pit, each step heavy with resignation, Kookie couldn't shake the nagging sense of uncertainty that gnawed at his soul. But amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, one thing remained steadfast – the unwavering love and devotion he held for his family, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.
--
Kookie stood at the precipice, his gaze fixated on the sprawling expanse of the red pentagram city below, a tangible manifestation of damnation itself. The lump in his throat grew heavier with each passing moment, his heart weighed down by the gravity of his impending fate.
As Sera's voice pierced the heavy silence, Kookie's resolve wavered, his muscles tensing at the harsh reality of his daughter's actions being the catalyst for his descent into hell. He fought to suppress the surge of anger and resentment that threatened to consume him, choosing instead to focus on the solemn words that echoed in his mind.
"You, at this moment, banished to hell on behalf of your daughter's selfish actions..." Sera's words cut through him like a blade, stirring a tumult of emotions within him. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, Kookie fought to maintain his composure, knowing that any outburst would only worsen his predicament.
"We have done a pat down to ensure you take nothing holy to hell with you. Do you have anything to say for yourself before we let you fall?" Sera's question hung heavy in the air, a final opportunity for Kookie to speak his truth before facing the abyss.
He paused, his mind racing as he searched for the right words to convey the depth of his love and regret. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, his voice tinged with sorrow and resignation. "Tell my younger daughter, whenever she dies and ends up here, that I love her and that I'm sorry I never got to see her after death."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding. Closing his eyes, Kookie braced himself for the inevitable, his heart heavy with the burden of his daughter's actions and the consequences he now faced.
With a hesitant exhale, he let himself fall, surrendering to the abyss below, uncertain of what awaited him on the other side.
創作者的想法 
Sammy_W3irdo
Sammy_W3irdo As I said, the inspiration is from an Ao3 Huskerdust fan-fiction, so the art at the end and flashbacks are similar but have different characters, art styles, and story plots; please check out their work. It's fantastic; 100% recommended if you like being on an emotional roller coaster and Huskerdust!
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139448/chapters/66276155
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