Welcome to my first 'story' story! This road will be dark, contain one Oc, fantasy, and an Au of course. First chapter will be confusing, everything will make more sense as the story progresses (if it progresses, read end for more info). I won't reveal who the man is until the possible next chapter, but I'm sure you can guess (Seeing as who I am).

Note: The man in this chapter is NOT the Oc.

Disclaimer: I Don't own anything or anyone except for David.

He lay on the cold floor, knees automatically trying to slam themselves into his chest. He was in a dark, cold room, only able to see since his eyes got used to the lack of lighting. A rusty bucket half-filled with water sat in the corner, next to the bones of the small scrap of food he got each day. The man had ragged and torn clothes, shaggy black hair that went down to his shoulders. There were limbs on him that didn't belong but he didn't mind, he had learned to just accept them. He shivered, clutching the object in his strange hands closer. It was a helmet, cracked, and so many dents covered it that you couldn't make out the shape, color drained from it as it suffered the same fate the man did. Broken. Well, the man wasn't completely. He couldn't be, he had made a promise to the only one that knew what was happening to him. Yet, he breathed heavily, David was gone, murdered. Murdered on his will, so did that make it a murder? "Stay strong," he had said.

But could he? With all that happened to him, how could he even have any hope left? Yet, a sliver of it made it's way into his body against his will. Everything was against his will now, so it wasn't unexpected. David had told him to not be driven by revenge, or let his emotions control him. He slowly ran his hand across the mangled helmet, beaten from his endless attempt to take his anger out. It was, his thought process stopped as small flashes of a sandy haired boy with big green eyes flickered through his mind. His helmet was his only friend now. Where were his old friends? Did they care? Were they even real? He didn't know, he had spent so long in this cold dark room to even know what the outside world was like anymore. All he knew was his helmet, his captors, he shuddered, and David.

His thoughts drifted to the ones who ruined everything. Without meaning to, the prisoner hissed, letting out what he thought of them. His captors. Why wouldn't the others listen to him when he said he saw something? All of this, the extra limbs, his kidnapping, David's- his heart ached. It wouldn't have happened if they had, why did he go alone to investigate in the first place? To prove himself? That wasn't the most important thing, he just had to survive. You would think when David left he wouldn't fight anymore, but he was stubborn, and David had encouraged him to do just that. Don't give in. So he didn't, he stayed defiant when his captors came in, whether to fill the bucket with water, give him his portion of food out of the other prisoners, testing to see how he's physically and mentally changed, or just to tell him he was making to much noise. Every. Single. Damn. Day. Was a struggle. Dark, unwanted, self-loathing, thoughts always drifted in his head. Yet still, he clung. It was like hanging onto a string over a deep and deadly canyon, one slip and he would- he curled up tighter, letting his eyes slit open slightly.

The thick scent of metal filled his lungs, death taunting it. Metal, his cage was metal, large chains were on his limbs, made of metal. Everything! In this hell place was just death and metal! All of it! The chains that crippled him dragged him down along with his depression. Some would say he was lucky this is all he had to endure but, sometimes, as much as he hated to admit it... he wished he went down the same road as David. There! He said it! Happy? Are you happy that he wished he went down the road of insanity!? You satisfied Krogan-

Krogan. The word felt like venom and he was suddenly filled with rage. He threw the helmet as far away from him as possible, tears tracking down his face. Pride? What was pride even? He still had some, but he needed to let some of his pride go sometimes. He was cracked yes, very much so, but he wouldn't break. He was different, he would fight until his last breath. It's what he was trained to do, but any other Viking would've gave up long ago. David picked him back up, as much as the kid hurt him.

Hurt. That was another thing, he could feel his heart slowly turning into stone-no metal. Just like the rest of this screwed up place. Cold, he was cold, not just physically but mentally. He ached. The metal slowly washed away the hurt as time went on, he knew it was probably him finally starting to head down the road of insanity but... he can hang, just a little longer. Maybe someone could help him finally escape, because he for sure couldn't do it on his own. He figured that out long ago, when he didn't understand. But either way, who would save him? He's different, he's strange.

Yes, he really was. Both mentally and physically. Mentally unstable, that was something, already covered that. Physically? Whole new story. What was he even? He used to be a Viking, he knew he still sort of was deep down but who was he kidding? He didn't belong in either the Vikings or the dragons. Dragons? You ask, how could he possibly fit in dragons? Well, he can't, he's not a dragon, nor a Viking. He's a... mixture. Normal was far from what he was. Viking build, that was something, so where did the dragon come in? When did it intrude into his life?

That was about a year ago, but it felt like a lifetime to him. Injected is what some would call it, fusing is what others would name it. Absolute-hell-hole-full-of-metal-death-and-despair is what he knew it as. Outsiders? They thought of it as a top secret experiment to give high in authority people powers. So where did he come in? Oh, he, along with others were the... subjects. Some got an overdose to the point of insanity, others were overwhelmed and refused to eat or drink (he almost went down that road), a few lucky ones got a low dose and barely transformed at all, they were sadly executed, but it was better then going insane or being stuck in this pile of metallic trash of an underground experiment. It was sick, everything here in this damn place was sick, from the executes to the executors. This entire place was nothing, yet not at the same time. So what filled this place?

Death, disease, metal.

They all smelled the same, only ever so slight differences, but it was a disgusting scent overall. They mingled, mingled while they mangled the captives, the subjects, the experiments.

Death was tainted with disease.

Disease smelled like metal.

Metal was full of death.

One after another.

Dead.

Insane.

Murder.

He shuddered. Murdered on his will. David. David was like his little brother, kidnapped together, injected together, struggled together. He had grown to like the kid, even finding some things in common with him. David passed too young, yet he told him to keep fighting. His dying wish. So he resisted. He hurt. He cried. He screamed for the ones he knew would never come. As much as he wanted to fall, he couldn't. David wished for him to be free, to fight, to not give up. They were subjects. Together. One went down, but the other wouldn't fall.

Subject. What is it exactly in this rotting hell of metal? It was a complicated process, Thor, it was blurry. The outcome? Some would find it brilliant, powerful. Others found it weird, disgusting, a disgrace. The rest saw it, and knew it as life, simple as that. Not all lives are good. This life was horrid. The things he witnessed.

So, what was powerful, a disgrace, and life to him?

A Hybrid.

Nothing less, nothing more. Fused with what you may ask?

A dragon.

For him, a Skrill to be exact. Others received Nightmares, Nadders, Whispering Deaths, Thunderdrums, Changewings, Etc. David had received the er- abilities, of a Thornridge. A silent killer, will come to aid any friend. David wouldn't purposefully hurt anyone.

So were those the extra limbs? Dragon parts? Why yes, it was, wings and a tail to be exact. Not only that, he also had scales, spines, eerie blue draconic eyes and the ability to (he was only able to do it once) redirect lightning.

Looking back on his thoughts, about everything, a wave of anxiety and frustration overwhelmed him and he burrowed into the wings he had wrapped around himself. His tail curled around to join them, leaving clanking sounds from the chains it carried in its wake. Every limb was tied down, holding him in place. He clawed at his tail, desperate to relief some of the pressure building. Alas, no matter how hard he scratched, teared, and raked at the tail, it wouldn't work, the stress stayed.

Feeling it all close in on him, he did the only thing that felt right in the moment.

He screamed.

This is a one shot for the moment, if you want me to continue in this Au then I happily will. Insecurities suck don't they? So, tell me what you think! If I get enough reviews asking for me to continue, you'll see more! Till then, bye reader!