"This was not visited upon me. This is my birthright."
froodle's second prompt, picking up immediately after "Heritage"
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: Not Mine, for various reasons this is probably a good thing.
Warning: Implied Assault
Nestled in the beams and debris of the old mill the boy curled up into as tight a ball as he could. He had split off from the others as soon as they had hit the outside. He had the terrible feeling it just wouldn’t be safe for them to be anywhere near him. He was marked.
Once upon a time he had had a name. Yes, but one he had given himself. Why was that? And why couldn’t he remember it now?
What he could remember…
What he could remember…
A man. But not a man.
And the man had been smiling at him and the memory of that smile made the boy want to curl in on himself even more tightly than he already was. He remembered struggling as the man removed his shirt. Then the man removed his shirt and… that was where the boy refused to remembering anything more.
But he couldn’t help remembering the thousands of tiny tentacle things ending in mouths with needle teeth.
He vaguely remembered asking what had happened to the man.
The man smiled again and said and said and said…
The boy wrapped his arms around his head and whimpered.
He let out a scream when a small hand touched his shoulder.
“Dash? Dash? It’s us, Simon and Marshall,” the voice was familiar and kind, “come on, Dash. It’s okay, we’re here. Come on, Dash, we’ll keep you safe.”
The boy let himself be pulled into two sets of arms, and tried to believe what the boy named Simon said.
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: Not Mine, for various reasons this is probably a good thing.
Warning: Implied Assault
Nestled in the beams and debris of the old mill the boy curled up into as tight a ball as he could. He had split off from the others as soon as they had hit the outside. He had the terrible feeling it just wouldn’t be safe for them to be anywhere near him. He was marked.
Once upon a time he had had a name. Yes, but one he had given himself. Why was that? And why couldn’t he remember it now?
What he could remember…
What he could remember…
A man. But not a man.
And the man had been smiling at him and the memory of that smile made the boy want to curl in on himself even more tightly than he already was. He remembered struggling as the man removed his shirt. Then the man removed his shirt and… that was where the boy refused to remembering anything more.
But he couldn’t help remembering the thousands of tiny tentacle things ending in mouths with needle teeth.
He vaguely remembered asking what had happened to the man.
The man smiled again and said and said and said…
The boy wrapped his arms around his head and whimpered.
He let out a scream when a small hand touched his shoulder.
“Dash? Dash? It’s us, Simon and Marshall,” the voice was familiar and kind, “come on, Dash. It’s okay, we’re here. Come on, Dash, we’ll keep you safe.”
The boy let himself be pulled into two sets of arms, and tried to believe what the boy named Simon said.