Mad Hadrian

Chapter 1: A Mother's Love

The child didn't weep. Harry; freak as he is often referred as, held in his tears. His uncle often beat him, but never to this extent. The broken body of Harry cuddled up in the corner of his dark, damp, and cold cupboard.

He shivered and repeated his mantra, 'Pain is... J-just weakness, leaving the b-body.' Again and again, the same statement ran through the mind of the young child offering comfort in an otherwise hopeless situation.

Harry had learned because he was smart. Burn some food, they starve him. Stand too close to the windows, they lock him in his cupboard for a week. Break a plate, they beat him.

Do something freakish, they burn him.

Sad eyes looked down at his bare chest. It took all of his strength to sit up, but with the help of his zealous repeating of his code, he was sitting fully on his trio of Dudley's scrapped pillows that acted as his makeshift bed. What awaited his eyes, he felt nothing, numb almost, when he saw. Uncle Vernon had dragged a fire poker across his chest.

/Flashback/

There he was, body broken, Harry laid there on the floor fervently wishing for it all to be over. But even still, he didn't make a sound. No matter what, he was strong. Maybe not physically, but Harry just knew, just 'knew', that he was strong.

"Stupid freak. Can't do anything without messing shit up..." Mumbled the fat man. Vernon unbuckled his belt and tore it off his hip. He had to sit down in the armchair next to him so his massive trousers didn't fall off his large hips. Long, burly fingers grabbed Harry by the hair and tied the belt in his mouth and around his head.

"Wouldn't want the neighbours to get the wrong idea, hmm?" Whispered his uncle. The belt should muffle most of the noise.

With that done, the horrific beast of a man grabbed the fire poker and held it in the flames. Vernon waited for the metal to glow red hot before putting his boot down on the freak's stomach.

"We've given you a roof over your head," Vernon spoke, "fed and watered you, and allowed you to breathe the very air we all breathe." Almost lazily he gently placed the metal on the boy's chest. The skin seared and broke and the pain was almost unbearable, but not a sound surfaced from Harry's mouth.

Vernon shook his head and methodically traced the poker up his chest and slowly back down. As he reached the end, Harry's will broke. Luckily, the leather belt was in place, for the scream that he unleashed was bloodcurdling.

A glare revealed itself in Vernon's eyes as he finished his piece. He lifted the burning metal and placed the poker back where it belonged, next to the fireplace. The upside down 'V' seared into his nephew's chest still boiled his skin as the older man threw the filth back in his cupboard with a sneer.

/End Flashback/

The 'V' stared back at Harry's green eyes as they finally released tears of liquid sadness from their hold.

He hiccuped, "Why can't I-I have a f-family that... l-loves me." Harry curled back into the fetal position and whispered on last thing. "I just want... I-I just wish... M-mommy..." And with that, he fell asleep.

Moxxi, or Mad Moxxi as she is more commonly known, was out in the hot, dry desert of Pandora looking for any abandoned tech that she could tinker with, as was her secret hobby. Her interests took her to an abandoned military base that a few psychos had taken over.

The woman scanned the area, counting six psychos. Not only that, but she also glanced and saw a large metal device behind a slumbering psycho. Being a native to Pandora, her immediate response was to bring forth whatever gun she had on her and eliminate her foe's with extreme prejudice, but something made her hesitate.

'I want that device." Thought Moxxi. 'I wonder what it's used for." Pandora held many interesting artifacts, some lost military tech and others, remnants of an opened vault. Moxxi could instantly recognize most technologies in the galaxy, but this, she was curious on what it's purpose was.

The metal box glowed with a soft blue aura and had almost vein-like features running up and down and around the outside. While there wasn't any switches, the top of it, from what she could see from her current position, indicated coordinates of some type.

'Let's see if I can't quite sneak a peak.' The scantily clad woman took a half step forward before the ground began to shake. Small ravines began to split the dirt around the machine and it seemed like the world was bleeding that strange blue aura.

"What!" She exclaimed, confused. Moxxi was not the only one who was startled by this sudden intervention, for the six psychos stepped over the gouges in the land to get closer to the box. One of them ran forward and began speaking about shiny glowing boxes and meat stoves.

As soon as the psycho touched the box however, the man was seemingly vaporized like blue shattering particles. The device let out a big explosion that rocked the surrounding area before also atomizing the other five psychos who wear near it as well. Luckily for the purple performer, she was a safe enough distance that all it did was knock her off her feet.

Moxxi groaned as she pushed herself off of the ground. The dust around her made it hard to see, but she could almost make out a form, small in nature. Not taking any chances, she hefted her gun back in her hands and cautiously made her way to the figure. Her gun pointed forwards as the air finally cleared and she bore witness to a small child.

"A child?" She whispered. And suddenly, her motherly instincts brought itself back to light as she saw that he was gravely wounded. Her weapon lowered. Noticing he was still asleep, she carefully picked him up and made her way back to town.

'Children don't really survive on Pandora by themselves." Her painted face scrunched up cutely in thought. "He must have parents. Or at least did." She took a look down at his injuries and scars before mentally redacting her former statement. "No child should have scars like that. Even on Pandora."

And so she carried the six year old back to her home.

Harry woke up in his cupboard after the burning sensation in his chest injury came back, this time twice-fold. The upside down 'V' glowed a bright blue as a strange energy leaked from the mark. He groaned in discomfort and soon that turned into a scream.

There was a flash and a change in environment, but Harry could almost make out a purple angel before finally passing out.

Harry's consciousness awakened and the first thing he was to note was that he was in a bed much softer than his own. The light hit his face as he opened his emerald green eyes. They stared into the ceiling as he almost wished he never had to move again. Never before had the freak felt such softness. It was a new experience for him and one he wanted to savour.

But as the rest of his senses returned to him, the young boy's trained paranoia came racing back. He realized that he didn't know where he was. 'Where am I?' The thought ran through his mind, 'The Dursley's would never let me have a bed like this.'

The next thought was that he was kidnapped. Unfortunately, this line of thinking didn't cause very much negative emotion from the boy and in fact, being responsible for a sliver of hope. If it were true, he almost wanted to thank his kidnappers.

I

Harry sat up on the bed and looked out the window. He could see dusty plains and a general dry atmosphere. This was the closet to the outside he's ever been. He wanted to feel the sun, the fresh air on his skin. He almost stuck his arm out the window before quickly pulling it back when he heard the door open.

His gaze was ripped from the outside to a beautiful woman with an eccentric purple outfit who was carrying a small tray of food. The angel looked at him, surprised that he was awake so quickly before speaking in a soft tone, befitting of one of her angelic nature.

"Oh, you're awake." She said, "How are you feeling?" With no response, only a shy look, she continued. "I hope you don't mind, I dressed your wound and made you breakfast." But still, no response.

Not undeterred in the slightest, she smiled softly down at the young man. "Don't talk much do you, hun? That's fine, the strong silent type, I see." She smirked. Harry felt something weird in his chest when she looked at him like that before nervously giving a small nod.

"The name's Moxxi, dear. Might I know the name of such a strong young man?"

The boy mumbled something. Moxxi turned her head to the side. "H-Harry..." The boy whispered, looking up at her before being intimidated by the adult. "O-or f-freak... If you... Pre-prefer." He corrected.

Moxxi's stunning eyes widened slightly. 'Freak?' She wondered. Those same eyes then narrowed, also remembering all the scars. 'Child abuse, then.' She sat down next to him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. Well, she thought, if his parent didn't love him enough to use his proper name then she would just have to give him her own, as a sort of fresh start for the boy.

"Hmm. I don't prefer that." Moxxi drew a long finger across his chin and lightly tilted his head so they were looking eye to eye. "Do you see these two eyes of mine? You have two eyes yourself, the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen." The eyes in question widened slightly.

"Do you see my nose? You have the most cutest button nose I've ever seen." She said, and bopped his nose. He giggled slightly and gave a small smile. Her grin expanded.

"And that smile. Oh, you'll be beating the girls of a stick when you're older!" The angel placed her hands on both his cheeks before saying, "You have two eyes, a nose and a mouth, just like me. Am I freak?" He quickly shook his head back and forth. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Then you aren't either." She nodded sagely. "I see a noble young man who needs a name befitting of his status, don't you?" She put a finger on her chin and thought. Her eyes lit up and smiled. "Ah! I know! I'm going to call you Hadrian!"

The child looked at her in awe and whispered, "H-Hadrian?"

"Mhm! A little prince." She squealed and hugged the now named Hadrian into her rather impressive bosom. Correction, Hadrian made in his mind, this was the softest thing he's ever felt.