Iceheart

Chapter 1: Wake Up To a World of Dread

Jason slowly dragged himself out of bed. It had been 10 years since his mother had died. That had been 10 years of being "raised" by a brutish father, 10 years of living off of Mac and Cheese, 10 years of living with a drunkard, and 10 years of emptiness. Almost no friends at school, constantly bullied, his brains were the only things going for him. But that couldn't protect him from the bullies or his father.

The mirror showed the painful truth about Jason. His left eye was black, the entire right side of his chest was bruised, and he had permanent scars on his hands from being cut by broken beer bottles. His black spiky hair was unkempt, and his already scrawny figure allowed his malnourishment to show even more, his ribs sticking out.

Jason slipped on his Marvel shirt and looked down at it. He saw a range of heroes, from Captain America to Rocket Raccoon and Groot.

"I wish I could be like them," he said. "Even if I were a freak like Hulk, I'd be able to defend myself from jerks like Jaxon and my dad."

Jason grabbed a picture of his mother and kneeled at his bed. He began to pray, like he did every morning.

"Hey God," Jason coughed. "It's me, Jason. You know, the kid you made who looks like a stick with a bad hairdo and a bunch of black and blue and red paint thrown all over it? I know I probably have overfilled my prayer quota for the month, and with the reception in this house, I'm not sure you're getting this. But if you are, could you tell my mom, Nicky Myers, that her son says hi? And that he's surviving with his dad? Also, do you think you could put a "hedge of protection" over me today? Just so I don't get another black eye or something else. Thanks. Amen."

With that, he put up the picture, grabbed his backpack, and walked out of his room. He peeked around the corner. His father was knocked out cold. Jason made a great deal of effort not to wake him. He tiptoed on the most silent of the floorboards and used the master art of not making a peep when he shut the door. As soon as he got outside, he ran to the bus stop. He could risk being beat up by the kids. He couldn't risk being caught by his dad.

As the harsh wind blew through his thin jacket, Jason remembered his dream. The wolf told him that he was inside of him, but that he had to "let it out". Some help that was.

"Hey, twig!"

Jason whipped around to see Jaxon and his goonies. And they all had devious grins on their faces.

"I see you've brought us a fresh bunch of homework!" Jaxon laughed. "Hand it over, stick."

"It won't do anything good for you," Jason sighed. "It's mostly honors classes. Anyway, what's in it for me?"

Jaxon's jaw dropped in surprise.

"I'll tell you what's in it for you, nerd!" he growled. "THIS!"

Jason felt the impact of Jaxon's foot to his chest, and then the ground. He felt the hot blood against his freezing cheeks. He touched his face and felt jagged glass. Every breath was a dagger digging into his already weak lungs. He felt his eyes closing.

"Tell you what, brainiac," Jaxon's distorted voice scoffed. "You give me the homework, and I won't beat you up as bad as I could. Deal?"

Jason grunted. He wouldn't let Jaxon win.

"Fine then," Jaxon said. "One!"

Jason felt the boot of the muscular cronie against his back and the pain on his head as it hit the ground each time he rolled as he grew closer to Jaxon. A scraping blade made it's way across his other cheek. It was the sickening cold feel of metal. Jaxon's favorite blade. Even though the pain was nothing new, it still felt like a rude awakening. Yet Jason remained stalwart.