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Philza would like to consider himself a good father. After all, he never had reason to believe otherwise. Even if the townspeople bolted when he neared, or how his own wife - lady death herself - refused to talk to him.
But he was the angel of death. He supposed that with said title came fear. distance from his own wife was odd. But nothing he couldn’t handle. Afterall, he was as old as time. He could wait another thousand years for her to talk.
What was more pressing of a matter was his sons. They had been avoiding him recently. Which would not bother the immortal if it didn’t include his youngest son Tommy.
Ah.
Bright, loving, joyful Tommy. Philza swore he even glowed at times. Like a little sun in their house for them alone. Only them.
Philza blinked a few times and realized he was in the house. The house was completely devoid of light. Philza glanced around frowning, his eyes felt like a blur filter. Trying to see in the dark. His massive wings ruffled before he stood.
Philza walked to his son Wilbur's room. Wilbur was staring at him intently. Like he was a threat. Philza felt his pupils shrink, the avian in him recognizing a threat to his flock. Not his son.
Philza saw the moment Wilbur realized it. Saw the moment he bowed his head in submission. His wings pressed tight against his back. Philza walked over and sat behind Wilbur. Preening his wings.
Wilbur was being difficult. Making yelps and sharp chirps like it was painful. Philza glanced down, Wilbur's brown feathers were dampened with a dark burgundy of blood. drenching the entire bed. Philza instantly cooed in apology. Becoming more gentle as he preened Wilbur's wings.
Wilbur went quiet and calm. Not at all in pain anymore. After finishing preening him, Philza went to the bathroom. He paused seeing blood on the floor. He was confused about how it got there. He glanced down at his talons. Noticing they were drenched in blood.
Odd.
Philza washed his talons clean and pristine again. He glanced at his eyes. Icy blue as always. Which reminded him of Tommy…he really should check on his youngest.
Philza went back into Wilbur’s room. He tsked when he saw Wilbur laying down lazily. head in an oddly uncomfortable angle away from his neck's natural curve. Philza went over and bandaged Wilbur's wings. A bit tighter than necessary. His annoyance bleeding into his actions.
Once philza was done he pressed a gentle kiss to wilbur’s forehead. He shivered at the coldness. His son always ran so damn cold.
Philza left into the hallway. He paused, seeing Technoblade sitting against the wall. His hooves in a criss cross position as he closed his eyes peacefully. Philza noticed he was blocking Tommy's door. He felt his talons twitch in irritation.
Technoblade opened his eyes slightly. A frown creeping its way onto his face. Philza glanced at the piglin hybrid's tusks. He really should shave them down. They were getting too long. Too sharp. Too painful to brea-
Philza blinked. And suddenly Technoblade’s tusks were shaved down. Philza frowned, were they not just too long and sharp? He ignored it. Technoblade tilted his head, his red eyes oddly flat. Devoid of the slight shine that eyes usually had.
Technoblade stood slowly, rising to his full height. Towering over Philza in size of length and muscle. His hooves shifted slightly, like he was testing the grip of the carpet.
Philza’s wings flared on instinct, he could tell technoblade was gonna attack. He always hated those pesky voices. They made Technoblade paranoid. Too emotional. Too needy. Too dependent. Too weak. He hated how the voices always knew-
Philza’s pupils dilated as he looked down. His talons were absolutely drenched in blood. Technoblade’s face was off. Literally. Carved down to bone from the extreme amount of strikes of the talons.
Philza stood slowly. He glanced down at one of Technoblade’s floppy piglin ears on the floor. Debating. He saw a flash of the sun out the corner of his eye. The sun was rising. Philza startled into action.
Philza slammed the next door open.
Tommy’s room.
Philza stared down at his son. Or what was left at least. Most of him was there. Minus a wing and some ear feathers. Philza felt his breathing quicken. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His tommy was alive, happy, smiling. The sun itself.
Philza grabbed Tommy gently. Reverently. He went and sat Tommy on the bed. Then went and grabbed Wilbur and Technoblade. Sitting Technoblade on the reading chair in the corner of Tommy's room. Propping up Wilbur to lean against the window, curling those freezing cold hands around the guitar.
Then philza went and sat beside tommy. Holding him close. And then closer. His pupils dilated fully. Philza preened Tommy's wing gently. Laughing as he did. Smiling at Tommy's jokes.
Smiling at the fact Tommy only wanted one wing to be preened. Ignoring when he coughed slightly and he felt a feather in his throat. Philza smiled as Wilbur sang. Glanced at technoblade. Technoblade was facing away, reading that damn book.
Philza’s smile tightened. Technoblade’s hair was a rosy pink. Rather than his baby pink it was supposed to be.
Philza went back to rocking Tommy gently. Eventually falling into a peaceful slumber.
There was no mention of the blood on the stairs, the walls, in the rooms. In almost every corner of the house.
There was no mention of how Philza had never preened Wilbur’s wings that day.
There was no mention of how Philza had lost it when he saw Technoblade trying to save Tommy. No mention of how he never let him go without extreme damage and revival needed. No mention of how tore off his face. Every. Single. Time.
There would never be a mention of how philza had gotten to Tommy. Tore his wing off. How the screaming grated on his nerves. How he lost it again. And then tore into him and ate him.
Philza smiled down at Tommy.
Those pretty blue eyes were now a pale blue. Like a soft river. though slowly gaining color back.
He never turned and looked at the red eyes staring. In agony and pain. but most importantly, knowing. too knowing.
He never turned to look at those brown eyes staring. Even while the body itself ran freezing cold. Eyes full of utter hatred.
Philza looked down at Tommy, his pupils dilated fully as Tommy screamed and convulsed in pure unfiltered agony.
Philza just held firm. His talons already grabbing and preparing to break the new wing. and feast on it.
Two icy blue eyes met each other. One screamed for a goodbye to finally be allowed, the other reset the cycle.
Philza bit into the wing violently. methodical. routine. knew exactly which major wing nerve to hit, watching those pretty icy blue eyes fade into a pale blue.
Philza would like to consider himself a good father. It’s why only one of them could have those blue eyes. The other was always doomed to have the color drain.
Philza stood and left the room. Sat in the living room. And imagined a normal life once again.
Blood stained his entire body. The 3 sons upstairs suffered.
And philza feasted on them, it was the only way to show the love he carried.
The sun went down slowly. Fading. As the darkness took over the home once again… Philza would forget what he did.
he would pretend he did.
The disgusting vile things he did.
he will always claim it to be love.
Then he would go look for Wilbur.
Maybe this time Wilbur would bow his head faster before philza began to slice it off.
Philza smiled as he went up the stairs.
And so the cycle repeated.
Never ending.
Perhaps in the next universe the chicks will learn to fly the nest.
before father feels they can never leave him.