This is my first time writing on Fanfiction, and I'm not used to this system yet, but I will. The chapters will be short, at least less than 3,000 words.
Anyway, enjoy!
"You do remember when you and your friends locked me up in that disgusting prison? Where I had to suffer those smelly fish and crazy guards? It's time for you to experience the same thing." Dagur stood besides the prison cell deep in the Island of Berserk.
Hiccup Haddock, the future chief of Berk, lied in the prison cell. Blood covered his face and exposed skin, his flying suit got badly damaged, leather stripes got cut apart, and shoulder armors got some deep cracks. Dagur and his men put extra security handcuffs on Hiccup's hands just to be sure that he wouldn't do anything "bad" in the cell either.
The cell had an uncomfortable and simple bed and a chair, and walls were made of heavy stones. It had only one small window, which only a Terrible Terror could climb through, and it was secured by arm-sized metal bars.
"Dagur, you don't know what you are doing. " Hiccup said in a weak voice.
"I don't? "Dagur laughed, "maybe you guys should make up your minds before you threw me into the Outcast prison."
The prison that Hiccup was in was called the Tartarus, the underworld from Greek Mythology. The Berserkers named it Tartarus because nobody could escape from this prison, not even with the help from dragons. The whole building was fire-proof, and the field around it was filled with crossbows, trebuchets, ballistas, and of course, strong and brutal Berserk warriors.
Hiccup couldn't remember how Dagur knocked him out, when he was sailing on his boat, someone jumped down from the air and landed on the stern of his boat. That was a big mistake, Hiccup didn't bring Toothless with him on that stupid sea-safari.
Dagur bursted into laughter, then he walked outside of the prison with his double-sided ax in his hand.
Hiccup turned his head and stared through the window, where the pale white moon was hanging in the air.