Reibert

Childhood

When Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie were recruited to destroy humanity, they were pushed into training for strategies. He would have never been prepared to destroy walls and to hand-to-hand combat training. 

Annie didn't have any problems with it, as her dad had been teaching her since she was young. Reiner was small, but the strong. Capable of flipping a grown man over his head at the mere age of ten. Bertholdt was tall, gangly, and moved awkwardly with long limbs he had barely grown into. He had been raised in a home where confrontation and risks were not an option. He had always been told that fighting was never the answer. He lived and abided by the concept for all of his childhood, even when he was bullied mercilessly by others. He simply let his friends take care of it for him.

But in training, he had been his weakest. He hated fighting, he hated violence, so how was he supposed to learn something he despised? 

They didn't give him any options. It was either learn or to be killed during the mission. He tried his best. If he had failed, he would be punished, and they would continue to punish him until he got it right. The abuse thought it made him try harder. Only made him fear more....

"Are you stupid? You can't do anything right, even something so simple, you still can't do it! You're a disappointment and a failure. Pfft, we should off one of his friends to see how he reacts." Someone said while laughing and wacking him. 

When Bertholdt was young, he shivered violently from his place on the floor, as the sound of a sword being drawn. He cracked his eyes open to look at where his friends stood against the wall. Annie was indifferent, Reiner looked close to tears. One of their trainers was approaching them with a bald. Looking at them with a manic glee, flashing his eyes. 

"Which one should I off?" He looks at Reiner. "Maybe this one."
The blade was suddenly pressed against Reiner's neck, just hard enough to draw a tiny sliver of blood. Reiner whimpered. He was terrified, trying to lean away as far as he could.

It was that moment that something snapped inside of Bertholdt, suddenly the sword was wrenched away from the man and his legs were kicked so hard out from under him that one of his calves shattered. He landed flat on his back, the sword pointed at the tip of his nose. The man barely saw it, too busy writhing in pain on the floor. 

Bertholdt breathed heavily, only now becoming aware that he has done this. He looked over his shoulder at his friends, who stared back at him with mixed emotions.

A dark chuckle interrupted his thoughts.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Everything changed from then on. 

From then on, when he fought, he fought ruthlessly, without abandon. His desire to protect his best friend had unlocked a hidden strength that he didn't even know he possessed. It made him curious, but it also scared him to death. Suddenly, he was the best fighter ever trained the worlds most dangerous being. He held better instincts in combat than any other. 

Back home, he hadn't;t had any problems with beating their trainers up; it felt pretty good to get back at them for their abuse. But here, he was with innocent people, innocent humans that he didn't want to hurt. He could kill them with a simple flick of his wrist, as he had been taught to snap necks on training dummies.