Writing Prompt "Daddy has to"

[CheertheSecond]

Prompt: Write a short short ends with the title.

 

[Macha]

Daddy has to avoid child support.

 

[LeilaniOtter]

She looked up in horror as the much older man towered above her, shakily holding a stick sharpened to one point. In his other hand was a Holy Bible, still dripping blood.

She let out a feral whine and flicked a tongue over glistening fangs, trying to shield her face.

"I'm so sorry..." he croaked through a mouthful of regret and agony as he raised the wooden stake above his head, his eyes never leaving her face. "But Daddy has to..."

 

[CharlesEBrown]

He looked again in horror at the idiots the political parties thought he should have lead his country. He wiped a single tear from his face and looked down at his little daughter. "I'm sorry. So very sorry," he said before entering the voting booth, "you'll be screwed by either choice I make, my dear, sweet child, but daddy has to..."

 

[KintsugiShimi]

The thud of heavy footsteps plodded ever closer from outside her foul sanctuary. She pulled the covers up over her face and scrunched into a ball. Tears tracked over the bridge of her nose and down into the mattress below. This was hell, and there was no escape.

The creak of the door as it slowly squeaked open released the ice that tore through her chest. Her vision narrowed to a pinprick as her soft, Kurumi blanket was ripped from her desparate clutch. Her eyes shot wide as she scrambled up, trying to push her back through the headboard and into some other world.

His grip was like a vice around her ankle as he yanked her to the middle of the bed. There was no time to raise her hands and block the backhand that cracked her temple and gave her a vision of pure, agonizing white, and stole the fight from her completely.

"No..."

He stood over her, the light from the hallway surrounding him, painting a picture of a twisted angelic halo as he slowly, methodically unbuckled his belt. It was always an agonizing process. His smile, when he did this, looked no different than a child's joyful glee. The expression held firm on his face as he ensured each belt loop was HEARD. One. The smile is still there. Two. It hasn't faltered. Three. He's enjoying this.

"Please, daddy..."

It was only when the belt was finally free of its last loop before he spoke.

"I see you are begging. That's good." He folded the belt over itself once and wrapped it around his hand, cynching it tight. "But you are begging for the wrong thing."

The first lash came, a fiery hot streak across her stomach and arms. Searing pain ripped through her. Again. The last hundred still hadn't healed, which made it that much worse.

"I'm sorry, daddy!" Another strike followed without a word, without a change in his smile. "I promise i won't do it again!"

Another lash followed, this one a change in direction, ripping into the soft flesh of her face. Those were the ones she hated the most.

"You have consistently..." Strike. "And repeatedly..." Strike. Strike. Strike. "Disappointed me." Five more rapid strikes followed, rupturing the freshest scars, blood pooling on her stomach, bleeding through her pajama shirt. "You do not eat, piss, shit, or breathe without my permission." Another volley of blistering strikes criscrossed her body. "You've left me no choice."

Another figure darkened the doorway. Mother. "She has left you a choice."

Daddy looked over at her, startled at her presence.

"Mommy!" She shouted, a wave of relief for finally being found. "Help me!"

Mommy walked over to the bed. Casually. She sat down on the opposite side, leaned down and cupped her cheek in her hand. She leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. But when she rose, the girl couldn't move her hands. They'd been bound to the bed. She could no longer cover herself to avoid it. "Be a good girl, now. Daddy has to."