Mr. Lilac

"Why'd they always look so different, Daddy?"

To Ken The Butcher, that question may as well have been a knife lodged into his spine. Almost immediately, he had to reckon with the consequences. His little darling, his sweet baby Melancholy, had finally grown up to the level of asking... Uncomfortable questions. This was the first nail in a coffin with several spots marked, and he had to bite the bullet for his family. Not to mention, as much as he hated it, Mel would, too. She was only little. It seemed like only yesterday she was able to fit in the palm of his hand. Now, she was about ten, and already had to bear her own uncommitted sins.

Setting down his blade, Ken's eyes lingered on the pair of overgrown hands he was left with. How many had he gone through at this point? The Smiling dead - Three of a kind, at this point in time - was no safe career path. His original arms were long gone, now. Reduced to twitching masses of muscle-memory or shot-full of so much lead they were rendered unusable. He'd re-stitched himself in the very freezer he was standing in too many times to count.

Just another trait that set him apart from his pale ray of moonlight. 

"...Mel," He began, voice choked with preparation. "This is gunna be somethin' a bit... Complicated. But papa's gonna make sure we get through it together, alright?"

As much as he would have liked to feign ignorance, the truth was a disease best treated early. Melancholy studied her adoptive father with wide eyes for a moment, before nodding.

"D'okay! I finally get to learn why everybuddy's so UGLY apart from me!"

"Atta girl..." Ken's frown was tugged by a fond smile. The last shred of innocence Melancholy would have, gone like an angel in the sky. "Yer... Very special, Mel. Yer very  special. You know uncle Mud, and yer brother? Even me? More special than that."

The little girl nodded along - To her, this seemed like one big compliment so far.

Ken cut through her impression of things like a steel blade through ligament. "You ain't like us. You're family, Mel, but you ain't... Built like we are. We's built'a sturdier stuff. We can be pulled apart, torn t'shreds... Yer more delicate."

A frown adorned Melancholy's face. She sat criss-cross atop a frosty table, breath fogging in the frigid air. "But, I thought you were my daddy... What...?"

The butcher shook his head before she could continue. Giant hands grasped her little shoulders for dear life - If Ken didn't care for her above everything else in this putrid world, one would assume he could've hurt his pride and joy. 

"I'm your papa," Ken pleaded. He was sure to be forming salty ice crystals at the edge of his vision if this continued for much longer. "It's just... Just...!"

A moment passed. Ken caught himself staring at the corpses around him. Fly heads and guts, muscles and offal... 

"...I know how t'explain it!" A wide grin came to contrast his saddened red irises, almost manic from his very own eureka moment. 

"Y-Y'know, our food, Mel? Whadda we always end keepin fer tomorrow as leftovers?"

Little Melancholy paused, then gasped lightly. "The liver! None of the stupid customers think it tastes good!"

A laugh was shared between the two. This was going well for Ken. 

"But, Uncle Mud, he LOVES the liver, don't he? And Breadhead, and heck, even I'LL take a bite if I'm hungry enough!"

The child snickered, sticking out her tongue. "That's cuz you guys are all suuper gross!"

"But we're still here, lovin' it all the same! That's what bein' a human is gonna be like, Mel." He lowered his voice, jovial tone leaving, but kept a warm smile. "Even if the stupid people don't like ya for being human, yer always gonna be my pride and joy. Just like I always think my cookin' is the best on the island! Just because yer human doesn't mean I'm not Yer papa. Does that help...?"

Mel took a few more seconds to herself to think, before nodding. "Even though you're the yucky ones?"

Ken The Butcher let out a bellowing laugh. 

"Even though we're the yucky ones."

{=}

It had been years since they'd had that conversation. 

Melancholy Hill was now a grown woman, who, smiling like a Cheshire Cat and blushing like a rose, had just bled all over the newest hire at the Whale Belly Butcher Shop. 

While Ken had nothing but horror on his face, Mel herself was no less overjoyed. 

Tonight, she became a member of The Smiling Dead.