Hayden 'Hiccup' Haddock is the school nobody.
Alone and abused both at school and at home, he's relied on solely his wit and snappy comebacks. Having no one to turn to, he barely makes it through each passing day. Scrawny, scarred, and starving, he...
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Above is a picture of Toothless, but all black and slightly smaller. I tried to put it in the thing for pictures, but it wouldn't work so here it is!
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Enjoy!!!
Hiccup trudged down the street, his former happiness of Astrid taking Toothless in gone as he neared his house.
He had gotten Astrid's phone number and he was to text her if he wanted to see Toothless.
He entered the front door and Mildew was on him in an instant, giving him a hard slap across the face.
He looked at the clock.
3:50.
Mildew is going to kill him right now.
"Where ya been, boy?" He sneered.
"School." He retorted.
"It ain't take 50 minutes to get here, boy." Mildew seethed, kneeing him in the gut and as he doubled over using the same knee to hit him in the face.
"Go make me dinner, boy. Me friend's 'ill be waitin', and the don' like to wait."
Hiccup scrambled to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and getting to work.
Every so often, Mildew would come in and criticize him.
"Ya doin' it wrong." He spat.
"I don't see you doing anything, so I'm doing better than you." He retorted. Mildew snarled, slamming Hiccup to the floor before dragging him up by his hair.
"Ya lucky I had mercy on ya, runt." He seethed before storming out of the kitchen. He did this a few times, and on the last one, Hiccup made Mildew so mad that he threw him down against the counter, his head slamming into the edge.
"Got any more sass left, boy?" Mildew asked.
Hiccup said nothing, holding his head as blood seeped between his fingers.
"Finish me dinner, and don' give me any more sass!" He raged.
He pulled himself off the ground, finishing assembling a beautiful taco bar.
He heard the doorbell ring and loud voices drift into the kitchen.
Mildew came in.
"Beat it, boy, and don' think ya gettin' any of this food. Go ta ya room." He said, he and his friends trying to hit him. He managed to dodge all but one, scampering upstairs quickly to his room.
As the group reacquainted he sat down on the cold floor, his grumbling stomach made it hard to forget the food that the hags downstairs were ripping apart. The smell of cigars was making him nauseous, though it could be the counter to the head. He missed Toothless.
