Chapter Text
A sudden crash jolted Alastor awake.
Yelling bled under his door, mixed with bright yellow light
His mothers’ pleas sounded quietly after.
Alastor slipped out of bed and cracked his door open, just in time to see his father strike his mother across the face.
He stifled his gasp, lest his father hear and turn his hand on Alastor.
“YOU INSOLENT WRETCH! HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU THIS BEFORE?”
“Please, don’t yell…You’ll wake Alastor,” His maman whispered.
In response, he picked up the books resting on the coffee table and threw them at her.
Alastor’s heart stopped. He couldn’t stand idly by while his maman is beaten for the 3rd time this month. He just couldn't!
He rushed forward, attempting to shove his father away. Unfortunately, his small, 10 year old frame did little to dislodge his father. The man grunted in surprise, before drawing something from his pocket and slamming it into Alastor’s head.
Alastor was thrown across the room, his mother crying out behind him. His father then aimed the gun at his mother. Alastor yelped and his mother lunged towards him, grabbing his arm and running down the hall. His father cursed loudly and began to pursue them.
Alastor and his mother ran for the woods, hoping to lose the man following behind them with a gun.
Shots rang out behind them. They ran faster.
Suddenly his mother gasped as another shot sounded. She collapsed to the ground.
“No!” Alastor cried, dropping to his knees next to his mother.
“Go Allie,” She whispered, “Don’t let him catch you, you hear me? Run as fast as you can.”
He was sobbing, but scrambled to his feet as sounds erupted from the brush behind him.
He ran as the sounds continued behind him.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING!?” His father yelled.
He continued running.
Suddenly, something caught his foot and he tripped, sailing to the ground.
A figure appeared in front of him. He readied his gun.
A shot rang out.
Darkness followed.
White noise played through Alastor’s head on a loop.
His head hurt.
Alastor sat up slowly, eyes barely able to take in the bright light attempting to force its way into them.
When he finally peeled his eyes open, he was startled by what he saw.
A huge expanse of pure clouds stretched out, covering as far as the eye can see.
“Hello! Welcome to heaven!” Said a cheery voice from behind him.
Alastor startled. He whipped around to face the voice.
He was met with a shimmering golden gate, with a small podium next to it. Standing inside the podium was a pastel coloured man, with pale yellow hair and gold wings.
The man flew down from the podium, holding out his hand as if to shake it with Alastors.
Alastor stared blankly back.
The man fidgeted awkwardly before announcing “I’m St Peter!”
That caught Alastor's attention. He was raised a man of faith, so he knew who St Peter was. But how was the St Peter here?
“Aren’t you dead?” Alastor blurted, before realizing how strange that sounded.
“Well, yes,” Peter answered sheepishly, “And so are you!”
Alastor’s blood ran cold.
“Now, what’s your name?”
Alastor could scarcely get his mouth to work.
“Alastor. Alastor Sm- Zeringue.”
Peter mumbled to himself as he searched for Alastor’s name.
“Ah yes. Alastor Zeringue. Date of death: May 15th, 1912. Oh!”
“‘Oh’ what?” Alastor questioned.
“Well it’s just that… You’re only 10 years old!”
Alastor wrapped his arms around himself. “Yes?”
Peter had seen much younger people brought to Heaven, but it always made him a little sad. He tried to console himself by reminding him that they would have a much better afterlife in Heaven instead of Hell.
“Well, come on in! Welcome to Heaven!”