Gloved Hands ›Countryhumans Sanctuary AU‹

1. Hellhole

His knees were underneath him, his bedroom furniture turned over and thrown around. He tensed up, his father standing right in front of him with a disapproving face.

The child looked around, his hands shaking like mad. His arms hurt, his nose bled. He couldn't let anybody know what he was going through.

"I am going now, I don't want to see your disgusting face anywhere near me again." His father said, straightening his back.

The son nodded, his breath too fast to be normal. He looked down to his legs, his vision blurring as he felt the right side of his face begining to go numb.

"..Y.. yes, father." He replied after a long while's hesitation. His father nodded, turning his back and leaving him in the floor of the bedroom.

Once the door slammed and the child was left in the darkness, he collapsed. God, it felt nice. He wanted to sink into unconsciousness forever. It felt warm, open to him, homely, even.

But he couldn't just give up, right?

Before his mind slipped, he got up, his 11 year old body barely able to move. His father really got the best of him, huh?

He looked to his bed which was one of the only things that weren't flipped over in rage and shuffled over to it, grabbing onto the edge of the bedframe.

He used the last of strength to pick himself up and lug himself onto it, feeling warm tears falling down what he could feel in his face.

It hurt.

He lay there for a short while, thoughts appearing and disappearing, before he eventually cried himself to sleep.

Heh.

How weak.

~~~~
3 years later...
~~~~

His body was pulled up by the neck of his dark blue short sleeved t-shirt, instant pain jolting through his body.

"Wake up, brat!" His, who he assumed, sister shout at him. He rolled off of his bed, forcing his eyes open. Yep, it was her. Shit.

He looked at the alarm clock, reading 3:30am. Well, at least it wasn't as bad as last time. He had to wake up at 1:00am and go to bed at 9:00. Aside from that, he really wasn't in the mood.

"Did you hear what I just fucking said?!" She screamed, kicking him in the ribs as he fell off of the bed.

"I'm up.. I'm up.." He replied tiredly. She scowled, leaving the room.

He picked himself up off of the ground, a bent over posture due to the pain in his ribs. She could really kick hard. He made sure to kick her harder.

He shuffled to the door, opening it and walking down the wide and deserted hallway. He then walked down the stairs, looking into the lounge before him.

His father sat on the couch, his sister sitting on an armchair beside him and whispering something.

"Training time now, duel at 6:00, and school at 7:45." He commanded while both of the children left the area, walking into a larger room filled with weapons of all sorts.

It had training dummies, all of which had several stab holes and stuffing flowing out of them. The whole room was white, not including the weapon rack which was a dark grey.

He hated this room much.

"I'm gonna beat you up so hard." His sister said, grinning. He'd like to see her try.

After a few hours of training, their father walked in and stated what they did best in. First, he pointed to his son.

"You're athletically skilled and you have a good strategy. Nice work."

Was that a compliment they heard? Well, with way, it was passed by like nothing was said. Next, he pointed to his daughter.

"You have more speed and less accuracy. You need to work on that." He said, his son feeling smug. That's Karma for you.

After a few minutes silence, their father invited them both out if the training room. It was finally time to have a duel against eachother.

"Whoever wins out if you two will get dinner. Understand?" Their father said in an emotionless tone of voice. They both nodded, both standing at opposite ends of the hallway.

"Go." With his command, the two began to charge at eachother. The sister dived down and tried tackling him to the ground by pouncing at his legs, but her brother quickly moved out of the way.

He swiftly turned around, seeing his sister lying on the ground and slowly getting up. Before she could, he kicked her in the ribs in the same place she did, except a few times harder.

She cried out, falling back onto the carpeted floor. She clutched the place she was kicked, tears stinging her eyes.

Her brother stood there, towering over her. She looked at him, begging for mercy.

Before he could feel any kind of guiltiness, he kicked her in the head, knocking her into unconsciousness.

"Well done, my son. Bring her to her bed, then go to school. She will not be coming because she has bruises. Now go." His father said. He nodded in agreement, picking his sister up off the floor.

As he walked up the stairs with his unconscious, his father not in sight, he could feel sadness creeping into his mind. Please, not now.

Hanging his sister over his shoulder, he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. Why did he have to get forced into fighting his family who he cared about? He was only 14...

As he gently laid his sister on her bed, he stood there for a short while. He was so sorry. Both of them didn't deserve this.

He turned around, exiting her room and gently closing her door. Afterwards, he went to his own bedroom, putting on a long sleeved turtleneck jumper which was white and green striped, and some long jeans. He picked up his bag off of the ground, shortly after leaving his hellhole he called home.