"Ashton," Father Atchinson said, taking his glasses off of his face slowly, "I want to understand what kind of man you are. I know that you've decided to tell me about what brought you here, but I'd like to know what made you this way."

The man in question let out a low growl of a laugh, his head tipping back as he shook his brown waves away from my face. "Let me ask you a question, Padre," Ashton said in a condescending tone. Atchinson shook his head, leaning forward on the table just as the younger man had. "You kiddie fiddlers like to talk about how evil presents itself in many forms, so I ask you: have you ever seen the devil?"

Atchinson furrows his brows slightly, cocking his head to the side before pursing his lips slightly. "I'd like to say that I have just to bring some amusement to whatever anecdote you're about to give me," he says with a soft sigh, "but no, Ashton. I have not seen the devil."

Ashton's lips curled up once again as he leaned back in his chair. "I have," he deadpanned. "I didn't know it until later, but I'd been living with him my whole life. However, I saw him for the very first time when I was just eight years old..."

~ ~ ~

2000

"Ashton!"

The young boy tumbled his way down the stairs, a smile on his face to meet his father knowing that he was coming home from a long business trip. He almost ran right into his mother's legs, stopping short to smile up at her like a kid in a candy shop. "Is he here yet, Momma?"

His mom sighed softly through her nose before kneeling down to his level and putting her hands on his shoulders. "No, sweetie, not yet." Ashton let his smile falter only slightly as he continued to look at her and she kept speaking. "But," she spoke softly, "there's something that you and I need to discuss, okay?"

The boy nodded vigorously, climbing up on his barstool and looking excitedly at his mom. She still had to kneel in front of him so she could be eye level with him, for she was a rather tall woman and he was very small. She took Ashton's hand in hers and looked into his eyes with hers glistening as she spoke. "I have to leave for a little while, baby bear," she said softly. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, though, and I need you to give this to your father." She then took a piece of paper from her pocket, folded in three and handed it to her son. "Promise me you won't read this, just give it to your father."

Ashton looked at it, confusedly before looking back at his mom. "Can I not go with you?"

She shook her head adamantly before standing up and walking back to where there were bags packed by the front door. "No, baby, I'm sorry," she said in a small, broken voice.

The little boy jumped off of the stool and ran over to her legs, giving them a big squeeze. "I'm gonna miss you, Momma," he said, none the wiser of anything that was going on.

Ashton's mother let out a muffled sob before she reached down and hugged him briefly before pulling away and grabbing her bags, walking out the front door with one last 'I love you.'

Not more than twenty minutes later, Ashton's father walked through the front door, a smile on his face as his son ran up to him and jumped in his arms. "Hey, Ash," he said, hugging the boy tightly. "Where's your momma?"

Ashton ran over to the counter, handing his father the folded paper and watching as he unfolded and read it. "Daddy," he said, tugging on his pant leg, "can I show you the new Pokemon cards I got? Aunt Marie got them for me for my birthday, and she said--"

And that was the last thing he remembered saying before the back of his father's hand hit harshly against his face and he was sent flying to the hardwood floor. Ashton clutched his cheek, too stunned to cry or think about the pain as he looked up at the man who he called his father.

"Go to your room, Ashton," the man practically growled. "And don't even think about coming out until I tell you so."

Ashton scrambled up faster than he'd ever moved in his entire life and nearly tripped as he ran up the stairs to his room, slamming his door shut behind him and nearly jumping onto my bed. It was then that he let the tears fall and the pain etch its way across his face.

His father had turned into a monster.

A reincarnation of the devil himself.

~ ~ ~

"Your father beat you," Atchinson said, leaning across the table some more.

Ashton let out a dry, humorless laugh, his arms crossed against his chest as he clenched and unclenched his hand and jaw. "Something like that," he growled out. "Beat me, humiliated me, molested me, scarred me. You name it, he probably did it."

Atchinson nodded, placing his glasses back on his nose. "How long did this go on for?"

Ashton smirked once more, another dark chuckle leaving his lips.

"Until I realized I could do something about it."

~ ~ ~

2010

"Get your ass down here, fucking faggot," Ashton heard his father's voice filter through the house and up to his room. He sighed heavily through his nose before sweeping his fringe from his face as he made his way down the stairs. As soon as he made it into the living room, the smell of alcohol and marijuana hit him, nearly causing him to gag as he stood by his father's chair.

His eyes drifted over to his son and he scoffed slightly upon seeing the bruised gash on his cheek, turning back to the TV. "Make me a sandwich, boy," he said with no emotion whatsoever.

"What do you want on it," Ashton asked quietly, only for him to throw his empty glass bottle in his direction.

"Do I ever fucking change it?" He rolled his eyes, turning back to the TV again. "Bring me another beer as well."

Ashton bit the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking as he made his way into the kitchen. He went straight to making the sandwich, grabbing the bread knife and beginning to slice through the full loaf on the counter. As he began carving, his mind started to drift to places that he knew it shouldn't. He started imagining what he'd be like if his mother never left. Would he be like this? Would his father treat him like this? Would he have continued to beat her instead?

The questions continued to cycle through his brain and he lost track of what he was doing before his father's voice cut through my thought process. "Where's my beer, you worthless piece of shit?"

His grip on the blade's handle tightened as he continued carving unnecessary amounts of slices of the bread, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he then heard footsteps sound behind him. "Can you not take orders well, faggot?"

Ashton started to breathe out heavily, beginning to feel his mind fog up as his father spoke again.

"Just as worthless as your fucking mother."

And he lost it.

Ashton swung around and whipped the knife across his father's neck, breathing heavily as he watched his hands fly to his throat before he fell to the floor. Ashton then climbed on top of him and repeatedly shoved the knife into his chest, abdomen, shoulders and neck.

The man was way past dead by the time Ashtob finished, blood smearing his body and splattered across his face and clothes. His breathing was labored as he dropped the knife beside the two of them, his eyes boring into the man's lifeless ones as he ran his hands across the pooling blood on his chest and stomach. Ashton let out a scoff before he began laughing hysterically, his hands smearing in the blood as he began to rub it into his shirt and over his face and neck, practically bathing himself in the crimson, metallic smelling liquid.

Ashton's laughing died down slightly as he bent down and spoke condescendingly into his father's ear.

"Who knew with a heart so cold your blood would be so warm?"

~ ~ ~

Ashton looked into the paling color of Atchinson's face, his own face showing a bit of pride as the priest brought a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping sweat from his forehead. "You killed your father."

"No," Ashton stopped the priest short. "No, I killed the devil. You, of all people, should be thanking me."

Atchinson was about to speak once again, but Ashton stopped him before speaking in a voice so dark, so low and frightening, that it would probably scare God himself.

"And let's hope he repented for his sins in his last moments of life. If he didn't, I will. And I'll make damn sure that Hell breaks loose in Heaven."