Prose

Lightning Lily preview

written by: JustWaiting

"In a dream I was a werewolf
my soul was filled with crystal light
lavender ribbons of rang sang
ridding my heart of mortal fight
of mortal fight."
-Werewolf, Cocorosie



My father always raced me to central park. If I won, he'd take me to buy ice cream. If he won, he still took me to buy ice cream. We would start the race about two or three blocks from the park and take off on the count of three. Sometimes the race continued to see who would tire out first. If I ran faster than my dad he would catch up to me then scoop me up in his arms. Sometimes when he did that we'd fall the grass because my dad didn't have the best balance all the time. He said it was because of an accident that happened before I was born. Sometimes, on rainy days, he'd come over with a box of ice cream sandwiches and race me around the apartment complex. He told me that if I was quick enough, I could outrun any type of danger. I would ask him what type of danger, and he would just smile and wink and me.
My dad wasn't always around, partly because he didn't live with us, and also because he had a job that involved traveling a lot. My mom said it was a business job, but I never thought of my dad as the business type. Sometimes, at night, he would come over and I'd see him collapse on the couch, or cling to something. He would cough harshly and my mom would hurry out with a first aide kit. Whenever he was out, my aunt Harmony and uncle Cián would come over. Harmony told me my father was an idiot and to not listen to anything he said.
"But Daddy is a genius! He said so!" I would whine back.
"Dear God, he's brainwashed the child," Harmony would say. Cián would laugh and tell her to not be so harsh on her brother.
One day I was talking to one of the children from another apartment outside my building. He was bragging about his father and how much better his dad was since mine was never home. I pushed him down, sat on him, and began to explain why my father was better than his. I explained that my father was better because he was protecting the kids butt and his half-wit father and if my father wasn't here the kid and his half-wit father would be dead from a demon by now. The kid's eyes grew wide in horror as I explained every detail of how my father had rescued him not a week before. Humans don't remember slayers or demons after five minutes. Their brains can't handle it, so they block us out. I wasn't supposed to know about the demons.
My father jumped down from the building, grabbed the hood of my jacket, and scooped me up and disappeared from the scene with me. I was crying- I figured I done something wrong and by the look of my father's face, I had.
"You must never, ever talk about me, Lily. Understand? People can't know about me, they can't know my name. I know you were just defending me, and thank you for that, but next time do not do that. Just smile, nod, and know he's wrong, all right?"
I nodded and he wiped the tears off my cheek, smiling. I didn't understand why I had to keep him a secrete from the world. I always thought my father was the best thing the world could have, but no one else thought so and they didn't bother to tell me why. My mother wasn't happy when she knew I'd learned, but my dad said it was about time and took me to go race.
As I grew up in the city with my aunt, uncle, mother, and father, all of them demon slayers, I began to see the world differently than kids my age did. But, my father never let me summon my weapon- a scythe like his- and he forbade my mother from using hers unless it was an emergency (my mother usually argued things like that, and I couldn't figure out why she didn't that time.) The kids around me all saw the city as nothing but a city. A mass of buildings and people, all moving and breathing, alive. That was fine for them, but I didn't see it like that. When I looked out at the city, I saw traps, escapes, dead ends, potential victims, and the monsters. I saw colors too, each one different and beautiful. Blues, reds, greens, yellows, and even some colors I didn't know the names of. I asked my mother if everyone saw the colors, and she had no clue what I was talking about.
The next time my father came home, I had asked him. He sat me down, then knelt in front of me, looking into my eyes, searching for something. After a few seconds, he smiled and brushed the hair from my face.
"You see this," he asked, pointing to his left eye.
"The scar?" I asked him. He never told me how he'd gotten it.
"No, silly, my eye. See how it's yellow and my other eye isn't?" He pushed back his blue hair over his right eye, which shone with the color of the ocean on my mother's desktop.
"My eye wasn't always yellow. It was this color once. It turned yellow and I could see colors. People are green, demon slayers are blue, and demons are black. The color changes depending on age, mood, and strength."
I looked at his eyes and went cross-eyed trying to see mine. "But I see more than those colors," I said and he frowned, explaining that maybe I was just better than he was. With that, he smiled, stood, and walked into the living room to bother my mom. After a year, my left eye turned a shade of gold, instead of the green it once was.
I continued to race my father, every time he came over, but when I was in middle school he came over less and less. Sometimes he'd come in at night angry, swearing, and drunk. My mother would kick him out. I always knew when he was drunk- his color changed. Usually it was a red, but when he was wasted it'd turn black. Sometimes, however, he'd come in cussing and yelling and he wouldn't be drunk. His color would be a bright, blinding red. My mother would just be scared then, and try to shoo him away or call Cián's father, George. She would stay in my room with me until George got there and took my father away with him. The next day my father would return and apologize, and my mother, after a little coaxing, would accept his apology.
He always said he's never do it again, he'd do his best not to. My mother always told me to wait and brace myself. She said he had problems, nightmares, and mental issues. His mood changed sometimes from happy to down right foul over the smallest thing. It was never my mother or I, and he never took his anger out on us. Soon, though, not only did he come home angry, and cussing, but bloody and beat. He'd come over with more and more cuts and scratches and bruises. I asked my mom and she told me to never go looking for my father. One day my father came over and had a hole that was slowly being eaten away in his shirt. My mother pointed it out and he danced around the room until he could get his shirt off.
"Stay away from the acid, honey. What have I told you?" She would scold. My father only smiled and threw the shirt away. He never explained why he had acid on his shirt.
My father, he was a lot of things. I always thought he was a good person, a smart man, and someone who'd look out for the people he loved the most. I never, in my entire life, saw him as anything that someone could fear, or hate. He was always there for me, no matter what. I didn't question anything like he told me to, I didn't argue with him like he told me to, and I didn't know anything. Then, in a matter of minutes, things changed. I can tell you right now, my father was not a nice man. He was hated by many, he was feared by more, and he was meant to die. This isn't a story about doing the right thing. This isn't a story about doing good things and saving many people. This is a story about saving a man's life, even after his monstrous ways, and this is a story about destroying a system, a way of life. This is a story about my moment. Some of us have a chance to be great and we pass it up, we have a chance to make our mark on this world. This is my mark. This is how I saved a condemned man, and in the process brought entire governments to their knees.


Chapter 1

"Lily!" My mother called from the kitchen. She was making dinner for the two of us tonight, we usually took turns. "Your father's here, come on!" She had impatience in her voice. She didn't want him to stay long. I smiled and fixed the flowers growing on my windowsill. Just a light touch and they'd perk up like new again. Flowers are precious things; they're just like people, if anything more important. Life is life. After my flowers were a little happier, I peeked out into the hallway, looking for my father. He wasn't there.
"Mom, are you tricking me again?" I asked here. She stepped out of the kitchen and looked around the living room.
"No, here was just here a- AAHH!"
A pair of arms wrapped around me and maniacal laughter filled the apartment. My father had come out of the darkness from the hallway and picked me up, giggling with twisted delight at frightening his daughter. I vowed to get my revenge.
"Gotta' be faster than that, Sparky!" He grunted through my struggling. He held me in the air and I threw my head back into his. He fell backwards and I fell on top of him, the back of my head aching.
"Tesla, you pig!" My mother shrieked. My dad continued to laugh as he stood even with a goose egg of a bump forming on his forehead.
"I'll admit," he began, "you're getting good at those! Maybe I'll teach ya' how to throw a punch soon!" He grinned and helped me to my feet.
"Dad you can't throw a punch yourself, I've seen you fight Cián. Besides, I know how to punch," I bragged. He folded his arms across his chest, raising his eyebrows. My father was a skeptic.
"Oh, really now. Enlighten me on the ways of a punch," he said, spreading his arms out to open himself up for an attack. I looked him up and down, and that skeptic, smug smile of his didn't seem to fade.
"Fine, but if I hurt you I'm not the one in trouble!" I said, pulling my fist back.
"Lily, don't you dare!" Mom said. It was too late. I brought my arm forward and hit nothing. My dad had moved aside and pressed himself against the wall, letting me topple forward from my own weight before catching me with my hood.
"You did two things wrong," he said, rocking me back up on my feet. "Well, actually you did more than two things wrong, but you did two important things wrong. You looked where you were aiming. You were goin' for my gut, right?"
I nodded and he smiled. "Keep eye contact, never break it. You know where your enemy will hit by their eyes. And two, you held your breath! You gotta' breathe or else you forget and pass out! Believe it or not, in times of trouble you do forget how to breathe." He walked out into the living room and held his fists up. "C'mon, try again!"
"No!" My mom hissed, smacking him upside the head with a spatula. He muttered a cuss and rubbed the back of his head. "Go have your race or whatever- no ice cream this time, she hasn't even had dinner."
My father rolled his eyes and flipped her off when she turned back around to go into the kitchen. He opened the front door for me and let me pass before shutting it behind him.
"Jeez, no ice cream. You're fifteen, you can have whatever the hell you want." He scowled some more and led me out as I giggle at him.

Instead of going to the city streets like usual, he led me to the top of the building. The wind nearly knocked me over at first but my dad helped me get my balance. The goal, he said, was to race across the rooftops until we reached the empire state building.
"Think you're up to it?" He asked me. I looked out over the city. The sun was starting to set behind the buildings, and I could barely see the top of the Empire State Building through the other business and things in between it and my apartment building.
"How am I supposed to get over the other buildings?" I asked. My father only grinned and took off running. "See you at the top, Sparky!" He called and jumped onto the roof of the first building. I wasn't going to loose. My feet pushed forward and I took off towards the largest building in New York. I jumped to the first building with ease, gliding through the air and rolling onto the cement to break my fall. I had to jump higher to reach the second one, but the third one was an entirely glass building.
My father had paused at the edge of the second building and turned around and smiled at me before jumping to the glass building. I looked away, afraid that he'd fall down and hit the street. When I peeked through my fingers after not hearing a scream or a splat, he was climbing the wall, getting his fingers into the smallest edge and crack in the building. Once he made it to the top he folded his arms across his chest and waited, looking down at me. I looked to the building and backed up, crouching low to get enough speed. I looked back up to my dad and he raised his eyebrows, waiting. With a deep breath, I started to run, made it to the edge of the building, and jumped to the next one as high as I could get.
I hit the glass with a thud and started to slid down it, unable to get my grip on anything. I started to panic and wondered where my father was to get me. I thought I'd die because my dad wasn't paying attention. Just before I was about to tumble backwards my fingers found the edge of the building and I caught my grip. I looked up at my father, and he was grinning, leaning over the edge of the building like he was about to jump off and catch me. With a wink, he turned and started running again. I climbed the wall and did my best to race him.
My father wasn't all to fast on the ground- or he was letting me win- but when it came to the rooftops he flew across them. He made it to the Empire State Building in no time and was halfway up the top of it by the time I started scaling it. He won the race, as usual, and was holding onto the antenna that sprouted from the top of the building with one arm and leaning into the wind. I sat down beside him at the top and just looked out over the whole city. The sky was dark now, and the lights shone up into the sky like they were the stars themselves.
"This is yours," my dad said softly. The wind pushed my hair back, letting me see everything for miles. "All of this is yours. You can go anywhere here. This is your home, Lily. Trust in it and it'll keep you safe." His eyes shone in the light, flashing with a wicked grin. I could see all the colors of the people, animals, demon slayers and demons. Each distinct mood and species mixing with the lights of the city. I inhaled, smiling. The air was crisper, fresher up here.
"C'mon," my dad said, starting to climb down. "I see an ice cream stand. Maybe we can head over to that before your mother has dinner ready." He laughed and his head sunk below the edge of the building. I followed down behind him, smiling at the people in the windows who were working late knowing that they wouldn't remember me soon. People stared at us when we hit the ground and my father just waved with a smug smile. We got ice cream like usually, the same kinds like usually. My dad always debated over flavors but still always got chocolate. I liked strawberry the most. He said I had to finish it before we got back to the apartment, or else Mom would kill the both of us. He wasn't kidding. By the time we walked through the front door, we had practically inhaled the frozen milk and sugar and were fighting off brain freeze headaches. My mother walked up to the both of us with a wooden spoon in her hand.
"Did you get any ice cream?" She asked, glaring at my father.
"You said not to, so we didn't," he said coolly. My head was hurting, but it was worth it. My mother leaned closer to my dad, looking in his eyes carefully. She grabbed his jaw and opened his mouth.
"Kinky, don't you think?" He asked. Without missing a beat the back of her right hand smacked against the right side of his face. "You keep buying her ice cream she'll get fat!" She scolded, hitting us over the head with the spoon. That didn't help my brain freeze.
"Now, Midori, a little sugar isn't going to hurt!" My dad protested.
"No! I'm the one raising her, I'll decide what she does and doesn't do!" Mom snapped. I rolled my eyes and sat at the dinner table. "You guys keep fighting like this and there's going to be no food left for you," I said, dishing up whatever it was my mom had made for dinner. She liked to experiment with different things and never told me what she was making. Tonight it looked liked bread crusted snot.
"Be my guest, I don't want that shi-"
"Tesla!" My mother hit him with the spoon again. He scowled at her and sat down at the dinner table, propping his feet up. I laughed and tried some of the food, then commenced trying not to gag. Mom shoved his feet away and my dad rolled his eyes. He looked over at me, then to the food. Mom made sure to pile a bunch on his plate. She seemed to save her most disgusting recipes for when he came over. Dad slammed against my back until I stopped gagging and my mother's lips thinned. She told my father to eat up and he looked at the plate and grimaced, saying he thought the chef should get first taste. My mother insisted until my dad sighed and nodded. I leaned back and watched the chaos ensue. This was a normal Saturday night in the Aoi household.
My father took a spoonful of the bread-crusted snot and smiled. My mother grinned like the Cheshire cat and went to try herself. When she wasn't looking, my dad spat the food back out and coughed, looking to me with wide eyes. My mother wasn't the best of cooks. When she tried the food, though, she smiled as if she'd made something worthwhile for once. My father and I gaped at her as she continued to eat it. I giggled as my father gagged. After the horrendous dinner and after my mother forced my father into washing the dishes, I took him into my room to show him the plants I had growing in the windowsill. Exotic flowers that otherwise wouldn't survive in New York, or even in the states.
"Cool, uh, flowers?" My dad said, unimpressed. He didn't see the beauty of it.
"Dad, these are super rare and expensive flowers! You can only find them in Asia and stuff," I explained. He nodded, looking at the flowers, still not sure what to say. I sighed. "It's okay dad, I know you're challenged."
"Hey!" He pouted while I laughed.
"So you're working on the flora power of yours?" He asked. I nodded and touched the flowers lightly, perking them up some. "Yeah, I think it's a bit more useful that electricity. No offense, I just don't have any reason to shock things."
"No, I understand. I'd rather you be doing this than using that one. You still know how to though, right?"
I held up my hand and focused, letting sparks fly between my spread fingers. He grinned and said to keep it up.
"Sometimes I kind of forget which power I need to use and I shock my plants," I admitted, smiling sheepishly. "My poor orchid over there was shocked. I'm trying to see if I can bring it back." I pointed to a once white orchid that was now slightly charred. Dad winced.
"Yeah, keep practicing, okay?" He said, looking at the flower. "Last thing I want is to end up like that thing!"
I laughed, knowing my dad couldn't actually be electrocuted due to his powers of electricity. He could control whole lightning storms. He said back in his day he was called 'The Electric Reaper.' I didn't believe it and only laughed.
"You keep playin' with these things all right. I gotta' go back home tonight, work to do. Love you, all right?" He kissed my forehead and ruffled my hair. "And keep your hair out of your eye," he said, brushing my hair away from my left eye, the yellow one. I smiled and nodded, putting my bangs behind my ear. When he left the room I let my bangs fall back in place. The front door shut and I heard my mother sigh. "That man is a mess," she said.

"Lily, get up," my father said, shaking me. I opened my eyes, groaning.
"Dad, what the heck? What time is it?" I tried to rub my eyes but he grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet.
"Fill this bag, you have thirty seconds. C'mon, go." He ran out of the room and into the hall. I dropped the bag and followed after him but he turned around and pointed to my room. His face was dark, and his eyes were wild. I'd never seen that look on his face before. "Go," he growled. I backed up, terrified of him, and ran into my room to pack the bag he gave me. It wasn't huge, and I wouldn't be able to fit much in it.
"Do I need to pack my tooth brush and stuff?" I called into the hall. My question was only answered with shushes and whispers to keep my voice down. When I turned a light on, my mother ran in and turned it off. I sighed and packed my things like my father said, then walked out into the living room.
"When will they be here?" My mom asked. Dad shook his head, his eyes flickering around wildly.
"Not sure," he whispered. "But we need to get the hell out of here before we find out. We'll go to George's and stay there for a bit. Damnit, this shouldn't be happening." My dad was mad. Furious. He was scary, and I'd never seen him like that before. My stomach was knotting up. I watched him, terrified until his eyes locked to meet mine. I hissed in fear and he sighed, relaxing and leaning down to eye level.
"Lily, there's a lot going on right now, I know. You need to do everything I say, all right? No questions asked. We're going to go see your aunt and uncle for a while and when we get there, I'll explain everything. I promise you that if you promise me this: you can hate me, and you can want me dead, but you need to understand that the things that happened in the past are just that. The past. There's nothing we can do to change them and we can only look forward to the future, okay?" He looked away and closed his eyes tight, muttering, "God, I hope you don't hate me."
Something moved on the floor above us. My mom and dad both looked up, then locked eyes.
"C'mon, Lily, we need to leave now," Mom said. She grabbed my hand and led put me in front of her and behind dad, who led the way out.
"Hey, Sparky, can you do something for me?" Dad asked. "I need you to look for any demon slayer colors, or weird colors that don't belong to humans, animals, slayers, or demons, okay? Something like this." He turned to look away from me and hunched over a bit. His color changed from a light red to a dark rust, or blood color. Even the way it presented itself was strange, with tendrils extending out. I gasped and the color faded and he turned around, apologizing.
"Please, just keep watch for slayers or something like that, all right?"
I nodded, nothing much else I could do or say. We didn't take the elevator down, and instead hurried down the steps. My dad was talking on the phone to someone who was apparently patrolling the skies. When we got outside, I saw my dad's bike.
"Go," he breathed and gave my mother a gentle push forward, turning around and looking at the buildings. He walked backwards while my mom and I stood beside the bike. He was muttering things, watching. Something zipped through the air and landed by my foot. I looked down at it and frowned. A black arrow stuck into the cement. My mom looked at it and I picked it up.
"Dad?" I called, hearing my voice shake. He looked at the arrow, then whirled back around in time to catch another one. I'd never seen him move so fast. In a flash his scythe was in his hand. It had a black obsidian staff and a metal blade. A solid gold snake curled up it and rested it's head on the top of the blade, while a gold jagged edge like a lightning bold lined either side of the bottom half of the blade, which turned into real lightning like a strap. Dad spun the scythe and blocked another three arrows.
"GO!" He roared over his shoulder. My mother sat on the bike and I watched in horror.
"Lily, come on!" She said, grabbing my arm. Four people stood on the top of our building, each one with a twisted mask and a weapon in their hands. They looked deformed and monstrous, and had a color like my father did. I looked to my father and he was shuddering, his eyes shut tight. When he opened them the whites of his eyes were black, and he snarled with large fangs, like some kind of vampire but worse. The four monsters jumped down from the building into the street. My dad wouldn't be able to fight them all. A fifth person flew down from the sky surrounded by crows and ravens. They had two pairs of large wings and the color of a demon, but they looked human. He fought with my father.
"Lily, COME ON!" My mother yelled. I climbed onto the back of the bike and watched my father fight as my mother hit the gas. An arrow went through his shoulder and more people showed up- but regular slayers. My dad disappeared and reappeared behind one and sent the blade of his scythe through the slayer's shoulder. Blood sprayed out onto my father and other slayers. My mother rounded the corner toward Seventieth Street. That was the last time I saw my father.