TW: Abuse, slight swearing

We're off to a super happy start

Virgil's POV

I kept my eyes glued to my plate as the voices continued around me. I moved my food around with my fork, not eating it, until a voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I raised my head to look at my foster father, a greying man named Sebastian.

"Hey!" Sebastian said loudly. "Listen to me when I talk to you!"

"Okay." I replied quietly, lowering my gaze. 

Sebastian slammed his fist on the table, making the cutlery rattle and causing me to flinch.

At this point, the other kids sitting around the dinner table were watching us. There were 5 of us, including myself, but I wasn't really related to them. I was the only foster kid there, the rest were hell spawn. Their eyes flicked between me and Sebastian like they were watching a tennis match.

"Speak up." Satan number one growled

Sebastian's wife, Susan (aka, Satan number two) looked at me distastefully from Sebastian's side,

"Be more respectful." She sneered

Given what you know about them so far, I think you'll believe me when I say that neither of my foster parents had no right to ever get laid. Then again, these two are such assholes that they're practically perfect for each other.

"I said okay." I responded, louder than the first time.

"Okay sir." Sebastian glared.

Now,

I knew that what I was about to do would be incredibly stupid, but I couldn't resist my calling to be sarcastic when I had the chance.

"There's no need to call me sir." 

It's not very hard to set him off, especially for me. I have a natural talent for being annoying and apparently I'm very easy to hate.

Sebastian stood up violently from his chair and stomped over to where I was sitting. 

It was at this point Virgil knew, he fucked up

My foster father grabbed me by the neck and threw me to the floor, causing me to yelp in pain. He yanked my head back by the hair, forcing me to meet his hatred filled eyes.

"You," He said, his voice dangerously low. "Need to learn to be grateful."

I couldn't hold back a scoff.

Grateful? Grateful for what! Being beaten for doing a single thing wrong? My "siblings" blaming me for any mistakes they make? Constantly being hated for existing?

Sebastian obviously didn't like my reaction much.

He slammed my face into the floorboards and kicked me hard in the stomach. I groaned in pain and clutched my stomach.

Sebastian just sat back down at the table casually, as if he hadn't just beaten up a fifteen year old boy that he was supposed to care about. Without turning her attention away from the food in front of her, Susan said

"Go to your room and clean yourself up. I'm sick of looking at you."

I felt the beginning of tears prick in the corners of my eyes as I heard my "siblings" laugh at that comment. I pushed myself up and limped to my sorry excuse of a bedroom, locking the door behind me.

It was pretty much just a cramped room the size of a cleaning supply closet with a single light bulb dangling from a chain attached to the ceiling . There was a small mattress crammed into the corner, and my limited amount of clothes were stuffed into a small dresser across from the door.

I walked into my small, disgusting bathroom and looked in the mirror.

My violet eyes were slightly bloodshot from holding back tears, the black eye shadow under them was smudged, and my purple hair was even messier than usual.  My black hoodie with purple patches was dusty, there were heavy drops of blood dripping from my nose, and I could see the beginning of a bruise blossoming on my neck where Sebastian had grabbed me.

Nothing out of the ordinary then.

I mopped up the blood and washed my face, then went to go sit down on my bed. I sighed and rubbed my eyes before checking the time on my alarm clock. I immediately perked up 

11:30pm

I grabbed my backpack hidden in my dresser and checked to see if everything I needed was in there.

Water bottles, food, the most intact clothes I own, a wad of cash I had managed to grab from one of my foster brothers when he wasn't looking, and the black headphones that were a gift from my friend Joan. I didn't have a phone or anything, but wearing them helped calm me down sometimes.

Speaking of Joan, I realized that I should get going.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and went over to the grimy window by my bed that Sebastian had nailed shut. I took my bronze pocket knife out of my black jeans and pried the wood off. Normally I would've been worried that someone would hear the noise and storm in, but this time I wasn't going to stick around to find out who the heavy footsteps marching down the hall belonged to. Without looking back, I slipped out the window and landed lightly on the grass. I sprinted down the block and didn't stop until I couldn't hear the yells coming from my foster parents.

******

I grabbed a cab to meet up with Joan at the  Queens Village Greyhound bus station. They were standing by the ticket counter looking around a bit nervously. When I waved, their face broke out in a smile.

Joan had been my best friend since I was 12. Well, I say best friend, but they're really my only friend. Surprisingly, not many kids wanted to be friends with a dyslexic emo kid with ADHD and enough emotional baggage to sink a cruise ship.

Joan wore an orange beanie on his head along with baggy blue jeans, red sneakers, and a grey t-shirt. They always walked with a slight limp for some reason.

"Hey man." They said, coming up to me. "Are you ready?"

I got out my money and stepped up to the ticket seller.

"I've been ready to leave this place for the last 7 years." I answered

We bought two tickets to Long Island, since Joan said they had someone we could stay with. I thought we'd be alone on the bus, but just before we left the station, a pair of oddly dressed women sat down in the front seats. They wore bell-bottom jeans, long sleeved green shirts, and boots that looked like they were made of snake skin, but I just shrugged and watched the buildings zooming by through the window. Joan however, looked alarmed the moment the women got on the bus. They continued to eye them nervously as the city streets outside switched to countryside.

I was in a pretty good mood, which basically never happened. Despite having a new bruise around my throat and a sore nose, I was hopeful. I was finally, finally free from my terrible life. Maybe I could actually be, I don't know, happy, for once.

But the world had other plans.

My seat shook as the bus began to lurch and stall. The driver pulled over and told us that we needed to stand on the side of the road while he tried to figure out what happened. The weird women got off first and me and Joan followed them at a bit of a distance. Joan was still visibly nervous. I nudged their shoulder.

"Hey, are you good?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Worrying is my job."

Joan smiled, but I could tell it was forced. 

"Oh yeah," They answered. "Everything's fine. Everything's good."

That just made me more suspicious. I stuck my hands in my hoodie pockets.

"Are you sure? If something's going on, you can tell me you know."

They exhaled, their eyes still darting around as if searching for something in the shadows. 

"Yeah I know its-" They froze.

"Joan?" I asked, more than concerned at this point. "Joan? What's going on-" 

They interrupted me.

"Virgil." Joan said, fear lacing their voice. "Look around. Do you see them anywhere?"

"See who?" I responded, their fear starting to effect me. "Dude, you're starting to freak me out here-"

"The women! The women that were on the bus with us! Do you see them?"

I raised my head and looked around. Under the light of the moon I could see the silhouette of a hill with a pine tree on top of it in the distance and I could see the bus driver cursing as he looked under the hood. I couldn't see the women.

 "No." I looked back at Joan, who looked like they were on the verge of panicking. "What's the big deal Joan?"

They just shook their head.

"Virgil, this is incredibly important." They said. I'd never seen Joan that serious. "You see that pine tree in the distance on the hill?"

I nodded slowly, slightly concerned for my friend's sanity.

"Run there." They said gravely. "Run as fast as possible and don't stop until you get there."

"Um... okay."

I turned in the direction of the hill I saw earlier, but before I could take more than a step in any direction, two figures appeared out of the shadows.

It was the ladies from the bus, but some thing was horribly wrong.

Their skin had turned a motley green and their hair had turned from curly brown, to thick black dreadlocks. They both wore what looked like leather breastplates. But the most terrifying part was their legs: they didn't have any.

Where human legs should've been, were twin serpent trunks. They moved in a combination on slithering and walking, as if they were on living skis. They both had a malicious and almost hungry look in their eyes as they looked at me as if I was a three course meal instead of an anxious 5'7 teenager. The one on the right spoke in a rough and hissing voice that sent shivers down my spine.

"Virgil August." It said, a snake-like hiss escaping as it said the s in my last name. "I'm so glad we finally found you."