The Wrathful One

Author's Note: Okay, just to get this out of the way, this is an AU (alternate universe) so nobody better give me any crap about how this didn't happen or yatta-yatta-yah. I'm just going to make this first chapter short.

My name's Adam Carver. I'm a runaway child who was sick of being a burden to my mother. Seeing her so afraid of me all the time filled me with such strong emotions. Sadness. Confusion. Loneliness. But the one feeling that trumped all the others was Anger. I was so angry that I made her scared. I was so angry that that bastard of a father had pushed me past my limits.

BUT I COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

The ceaseless beatings my mother and I received at his hands became too much after so many years. I had to end it. I HAD TO! My anger was literally eating away at my soul. Undoubtably, it would have continued till I myself was finally consumed by it.

But I found a way to use it. I found a way to make it MY victim. The answer came in the form of a spector named Ansem. But we'll get to that later. First, I'll go ahead and fill you in my story from the start.

Ya'see, I grew up in the family of a traveling merchant who did business across the planet. My father, the family man that he considered himself to be, would always bring us along to wherever the next possible customer hailed from. We traveled with him across the world. By the time I was seven, I'd seen more cultures and heard more languages then most people can name.

While that may have sounded all sugary and nice, you weren't in my shoes. Ya'see, the business that my dad was in was a very risky, very stressful, business. The business was selling illicit arms to random warring factions across the globe. The real hotspots were always the Middle East, Africa, Mexico, Central America, and the SouthEast islands of Asia.

He'd supplied numerous weapons of all types, from AK-47s and grenades to Browning .50cal machine guns and RPGs (Rocket Propelled Grenades). He was a very much admired and sought after arms dealer among the hundreds of militias and paramilitary organizations across the globe.

However, not every visit is a payday when it comes to arms dealing. A customer might change their mind at the last minute, leaving my dad with tons of illegal weapons on an airplane waiting to land. Not only that, but you've got the CIA, ATF, Homeland Security, DEA, Interpol, KGB, and FBI groups all hounding ya, sniffing out each spot you've been to. That was the real reason why my dad always took us with him: so that we could never be used against him.

I was ignorant of the true danger we were in when I was boy, but my dad would never hesitate to give me a taste of what might happen if one of his enemies ever got their hands on me. I was seven when he first beat me. Normally, I would have hated him, but then again...I 'did' ask for it.

I wouldn't have held anything personal against him, but then he started to do it more often, especially when customers would back out of the deal. I wasn't the only one. My mom suffered his wrath as well.

*flashback*

"Marcus! Please stop! You're hurting him" Amelia Carver shouted. She received a backhand to her face from her husband, Marcus Carver.

The blow sent her sprawling to her feet. Marcus stood at an imposing 6'4 over his seven year old son, Adam Carver. The boy was already bloody and bruised from several hits and having the refrigerator door slammed repeatedly into his head.

The boy looked up through tear stained eyes at the man he called 'father'. The man's strength, despite his 42yr old body, was incredibly strong. Almost inhuman. He looked up into his father's amberish-yellow eyes.

Those eyes scared him. They didn't belong to a human, but to an animal; a dangerous, feral animal. He had those same eyes, though his hadn't the crazed look in them like his father's did.

Marcus bent down and picked up his son by the throat and repeatedly punched him in the face with his other.

"Get use to it, son. This is how the world really is! It's mean and unfair, and there's always someone after you. You have to be tough and strong. You have to ignore pain at all times. If you don't, you'll die."

The next blow knocked Adam unconscious.

*flashback ends*

And that was basically my life in a nutshell. It kept on going for the next five years.

Author's Note: This is just the intro. Plus, I am in a hurry and couldn't write all I wanted to, so really, this is like...only half the intro. Anyway, be sure to continue following this story. I promise I'll make it tie in soon. Please review and give me your thoughts.