Hey kid, your father owes me money

Alternative title: you know, I never thought I'd be sorry that your mom slept with so many other guys.<br><br>This is my first Reddit post ever, which is why it's not formatted however most people format their work here. I hope you'll cut me a little slack on that. I'm a writer, not an html expert. Also, please be respectful of my work, it's all I have.<br><br>Every now and then I write a piece for my own enjoyment, called a trigger. I'm actually working on building a huge collection of them to one day turn into a book. Triggers are writing prompts for the writing impaired, and today's was the one I wrote on above, which is also the name of the current story. I'm a little busy right now, so I won't be putting a table of contents at the bottom of the story yet. It'll be a while before I get around to doing it.<br><br>Also, I have an asku. I tend to think in the long term when it comes to everything. I'm hopping to start a website for my writing. Once I have a big enough collection of triggers I'll have more than enough content to fill a site, and it would be nice to be able to open the site with a bang. I, however, suck at web design. I was hoping someone out there might be willing to help me build a site. I don't have the funds to pay for such an endeavor however, and I highly doubt you paid building skills, so that puts us at a bit of an impasse. I'll work on a solution to that problem though.<br><br>Hey kid, your father owes me money<br><br>I looked up from the street to see a giant of a man looming over me. He was easily three times my size, and he appeared to be made of solid muscle. He smiled at me, but it was not a happy smile, it was more like a mannerism than an actual expression. He had no control over his muscles at the moment, and they were twitching rapidly in every single direction, his eyes included.<br><br>"You must be the kid."<br><br>"Yeah, I guess." I said quietly, I tried to step back but he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yanked me forward.<br><br>"Don't want to do that," I said, but he just ignored me. My small knife bit into his arm, but as long as he was a nightwalker nothing more than a little pain would come from that small attack.<br><br>"You're Killian's kid, blue eyes and all." The truth of his words may have been evident even if I wasn't curled up in a defensive position with a knife aimed at his head.<br><br>"Hey, little one." A voice to the giant's left caught both our attention. My attacker and I both looked toward its source, and the giant let go of me. My attacker let out a low growl, and before he could react to the new presence his entire body began to seize. Foam was thick and heavy on his lips by the time he fell to the ground, convulsing wildly. It took me a moment to look at the stranger, and when I did, Killian's eyes stared back at me. He was a lot smaller and less powerful than my attacker, but he appeared to be built of solid muscle as well. He was, however, without muscle spasms or convulsions, making him considerably more terrifying than the giant beside us.<br><br>"You must be his daughter," he said, still staring at my face. "You look just like your mother."<br><br>"I'm a boy," I corrected, terrified.<br><br>"Oh, I'm sorry." He stood up straight and looked at me for the first time without focusing on my face. A chuckle escaped his lips, and for a moment he was gone again. When he returned his face was twisted in a scowl. "I'm your father," he said, as if I didn't already know. He was the only person I'd ever met with my eye color. "I don't suppose you'd like to go for a drink with your old man?" he asked, more like he was asking a friend than a family member he'd never met.<br><br>"I don't drink."<br><br>"Oh yeah. I forgot, you're a were. I'm glad it carries over." We walked in silence for a long time. Neither of us said anything until we were in the bar.<br><br>"You know, your mother and I go way back. I'll never forget the first time we met...Hey, you want a beer?" he interrupted himself.<br><br>"I don't drink, remember?"<br><br>"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I got a little ahead of myself there. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. I'll never forget the first time your mother and I met. I was an up-and-coming nightwalker at the time, and she was just a little were trying to find her way in the world. You...how old are you anyway?"<br><br>"Fifteen."<br><br>"Oh, sorry about that. I think that makes you older than your mother was at the time. Anyway, she was an innocent thing, and I knew that the first time I met her. She was a batch of fun though. I ended up staying for a while, teaching her the ways of the world, and that sort of thing."<br><br>"So you were a nightwalker when mom was only my age?"<br><br>"Oh yeah. I've always been the type of nightwalker that's more human than monster. My parents were very good at teaching me control at a young age, so when I turned...ah, what was I? Fifteen or sixteen I think...I was ready. You know, I never thought I'd be sorry that your mom slept with so many other guys. You're an...unusually...pretty boy. She and I only slept together twice, and I'm almost positive that the second time was too long before you were conceived for you to be mine, but...wow."<br><br>I looked around the bar, uncomfortable. "I'm glad you like it." I said.<br><br>"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad she was unfaithful. It means that I don't have to kill you."<br><br>"Then why are you here?"<br><br>"Oh, I almost forgot. You know, it's been a while since I've seen a were. I always get a little distracted. Your father owes me money," he said, bringing me back to the way he'd introduced himself.<br><br>"I'm not aware of ever knowing my father," I said, and Killian's face twisted in frustration.<br><br>"You know, I never thought I'd be sorry that your mom slept with so many other guys," he said, and then he was quiet again. His muscles were slowly beginning to twitch, and I knew I had to tread carefully from here on out. "He owes me money," Killian repeated. "If I don't get it from him, I'll kill him. If I don't get it from him, I'll kill you. I'm sure I can get it from you though, one way or another. How about this, I'll give you until the end of the month to find your father and pay me, or else I'll come after you. I'm sure it will be fun."<br><br>"I'm not going to help you get my childhood back," I said, turning to leave.<br><br>"Well, I'm sure you'll think differently once you know your father," he said, and with a flick of his wrist a small piece of paper landed in my hand. "Now he owes me two-hundred dollars," he called after me, but I ignored him on my way out of the bar.<br><br>I wandered down the streets for a while until I came to a dead end building. It was an abandoned hotel that I'd discovered and reinforced myself. It was the only place I'd ever felt at home in, and the only place I'd ever felt like I could actually afford to live. It was also the one place on earth where I was actually alone. The hotel was crumbling, the walls cracked and broken, the paint chipped and faded, and the windows...well, the windows were all missing. But it was mine, and I'd restored the building to the point where it was habitable. I'd spent a lot of money on it, and I'd grown up inside it's walls.<br><br>I fished a key out of my pocket on my way up the stairs and unlocked my front door when I got there. When I walked in I tossed the key onto the bed and sat beside it, thinking about the events of the day. It had been a while since I'd been called a pretty boy. It was a long time since I'd decided I liked boys. It was an even longer time since I got the shit kicked out of me for walking in on a guy having sex with my boyfriend. I was an adult now though, at least to everybody but the law. I hadn't let my sexuality get in the way of anything since that fateful night.<br><br>I sighed, trying to clear my head, and read the paper out of habit. It was an address. In fact, it was the only thing on the paper at all, so I had to assume that the address was where I'd find my father. I didn't really have a choice anyway, Killian had given me a month. I stood up and walked to the closet, which was made of plywood that I had nailed into the wall. I didn't have a whole lot, but I'd spent everything I had on making the hotel as nice as I could. It was more than I'd ever had before.<br><br>In the back of the closet was a small box, on the top shelf, under piles of clothes. It was the only thing I'd ever had to remember my parents by. Everyone I'd grown up with had known who their parents were, and many of them had even known who their