Child of my Killer

Training Begins

Bitterberry POV

I was running. From what, I didn't know. Scratches littered my childlike form, stinging with every move I made, yet I couldn't stop. Something sharp jammed into my femur. I tried to find out who did it, but they eluded me. Another sharp object pierced through my back. Laugher echoed through the blank space deep and dark and utterly terrifying. Screams joined the laughter. My father's red eye looked down at me. The ax came up. "NO NO!" It came down.

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I screamed. It wasn't the first time I had that dream, but it still scared me every time. I panted and shook, curling in on myself. My door slammed open, father and uncle coming in. "ANOTHER ONE?! HE'S WORSE OFF THEN YOU SANS!"
"yeah, yeah just calm him down. you know he won't let me anywhere near him." Uncle walked over cautiously. "SHH, SHH. IT'S OK, BITTER. YOU ARE SAFE HERE." I flinched away from his touch, but he remained patient. "IT WAS ANOTHER NIGHTMARE, BITTER. THE BAD THINGS CAN'T HURT YOU NO MORE." I sniffed as tears flowed down freely. I hugged uncle tightly. Or as tight as I could, being a tiny child.

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After calming down from the nightmare and eating, with I threw up afterwards, father took me to work. Don't get me wrong, I still feared him, probably always will, but I didn't want to be defenseless. If I could be strong like him, maybe the nightmares would go away. "hey boss, boys."
"it's about time he begins training. he's no use if he can't defend himself at this age." Father inclined his skull. "wouldn't agree more, sir."
"don't go easy on him because he's your boy, horror."
"... i won't.." Father made a gesture for me to follow. I did, with Dust and Killer taking the rear. One thing I learned here? Never speak unless spoken to. It'll save you from a world of pain from any of them really. Error tried to kill me the first time I was introduced. Actually they all did. All but Nightmare, who examined me. He'd said I had potential and the matter was left at that. I stopped when father stopped. He then pushed me inside a big spacious room.

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The leftmost wall was lined with a variety of weapons. The right wall had targets, practice dummies, and other training equipment. The center was left open, and blood stained it's floor. "welcome to the training room, bitter. in here there is no family bonds. you either get stronger, or you die.." His voice was carefully emotionless, masking the hurt he knew her was going to put me through. "i hope for your sake, you get stronger. go. chose a weapon. i'll be waiting." I hesitantly went over to the wall. I looked back at father, who's sockets had went black. His ax was in hand. Killer had went to a training dummy and was stabbing it. Dust was talking to the air again. I swallowed, knowing that today was gonna either go horribly wrong, or painfully right. I eyed the wall, testing a few of the weapons before putting them back. It felt wrong to me, the whole situation. It was to late now. I would be fighting the man I feared most until I beat him or I died. I picked up a hatchet. It was maybe 14 inches long with a dark steel head. It was sharp. Well.. I was father's son.. I looked back to father, grip tightening around the wooden handle.

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It's miraculous what you could do when trying to survive. His ax whizzed past my skull as I ducked. I wasn't unscathed. My ribs had been nicked, as have cheek, and right arm. At least it hadn't been severed. At least I wasn't dead. I ducked under father's legs, whirling and swinging my hatchet down. It was blocked by the handle of his ax. I growled. This was practically impossible! He knew every move I was going to make! I had to be more unpredictable! I dashed away. "you can't run forever, bitter." I knew that. I just didn't know what to do to survive! Unless.. well, it was unpredictable. I 180ed to face him, a newfound determination on my face. I ran straight at him. "it's about time, i didn't think you'd ever- oh fu-" I raised the hatchet and threw it at him. His focus went to dodging the deadly weapon. I got close enough to grab his ax. His focus quickly returned to me. I didn't pull it away, I wasn't strong enough to, but it did give me the boost I needed to knee him in the jaw. He staggered back, dropping the ax. I snatched up my hatchet and went to attack. A bone got in the way just as I was shoved down and restrained by Dust.

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Father was proud. He was proud of me for trying to kill him. I felt awful about it. Nightmare let me keep the hatchet. Dust and Killer even complemented me. After a proper meal, that I didn't throw up, we went home and uncle patched up my wounds. Father told him about how our day went and uncle said he was proud too. "I.. I don't understand.."
"what doncha understand?" Father asked. "Hurting.. it's bad right?"
"WE.. YES. BUT IT'S NECESSARY FOR SURVIVAL. ESPECIALLY IN OUR WORLD."
"your uncle's not wrong. the fact that you were willing to do what it takes to survive, it makes me proud. knowing that you can do it assures me you can survive."
"I don't wanna.." They exchanged a look. "ya have to. at least as a last resort." I looked away. Hopefully I'd never have to use that 'last resort'.