Chapter 21 - Do you think anyone can love Damon?

DAMON'S POV

The first time I had carved up a body, I remember vomiting on it. My douchebag of a father had held a belt, and every time my movement became shaky and uncoordinated, he discharged the duty of disciplinarian dutifully.

Disciplinarian was the name he liked to call it. Even sick bastards need titles that don't remind them they are sick and need help. Mine was Overlord of the Bravta. His was Father.

And no, I am not apologetic that twenty years later, I am even ashamed of the work I had carved up that night. I had punctured the vital part and had ended his life even before the torture had even begun.

He was my mom's murderer, and I had shown him mercy without knowing it by giving him death so easily. My bastard of a father didn't only make me live with that burden but made sure he reminded me of it every day until his untimely death.

I can still remember how his murderers begged me to kill them. I had stayed up for seven days, carving them up in a way that would make my