This idea showed up and would not leave, I am sorry for any heartbreak caused, it was not intended it hurts me just as much.
"WHY IS EVERYONE SO F#%&$! BLIND," he cried to the gods above. He sits, crouched to the ground, on his knees, covered in dirt and dust, filthy as a barn animal. After the years of torment from the others, even his father, he was done. Fifteen years was enough to make anyone want to burst. He hadn't showed a single sign of distress. Not until now at least.
He had finally had all he wanted in life. his father's love, a best friend, everyone's praise, all until yesterday. It was his big day, the day he would prove he was one of them, only, he didn't want to anymore. He had found a friend in the place he would have never expected. The best friend and closest companion anyone could ask for.
His father sent him in the arena. He would finally prove that they were all wrong. His friend and others like him were not as it seemed. They were only defending themselves. As soon as his challenge was released, his mind was filled with ideas and how everything would change.
He sits in the dirt near the ever bright blue pond. Face in hands, hot tears spilling from his once bright, now dull with pain and sadness, eyes. The object of his choosing laying next to him. It shines and gleams in the sunlight. Everything was wretched away from him in that one fateful day.
Everything went wrong. His father disturb his concentration, disrupted what he was doing and nearly cost him his life. No one had ever met his friend, how would he survive, he can't take care of himself, he thought as he was pinned to the ground. No one was coming to save him. They were cheering the dragon on. I mean, who would want the runt to live? That's when his friend came to save him. The two wrestled and his friend defended him, forcing the attacker off.
"Go, get out of here," the boy cried, shoving his friend, who still stood guard. "Please go." The friend remained stubborn as the boy's tormentors spilled in the arena and rushed the friend. His father with them. Shouting and yelling came the people, rushing his friend. The friend fought hard until struck down by a flying axe. And who threw that axe? The boy's father was who. "NOOOO," screeched the child as he struggled to get to the ever still figure on the ground. He threw himself over the shape and would not let go. No movement came from the prone figure. His father pried him off and threw him to the dirt like a disowned pet.
"You're no son of mine," his father cried and turned his back against him for the last time. The boy felt the tears. He shuffled up and sprinted off, getting jostled by the bigger, stronger and taller people. He was shoved and tossed aside like a piece of trash. Running to his house, he slammed the door, ran to his room, grabbed his choice tool and sprinted away to his sanctuary.
He picked up the small dagger that he had just so happened to coat in a dragon's venom before for more of an attack advantage. He lifted the dagger, with two hands, and brought it before his heart. His heart, yes, still beating, but barely for it had been shattered the second that his father, the Chief, and struck down his best friend. He was a traitor for befriending a NIght Fury, the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, and throwing his lot in with the rest of the dragon species. Now his one and only friend was dead by the hand of his father. Up went the blade before gravity brought it down, hitting its target, and not failing to do its job. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third slumped down to the dirt where he belonged, never having to suffer the torment of the villagers again.
At the gates of Valhalla showed a large, black, scaly creature. It bounded to the newcomer and pounced on him. Letting him up, they both walked, hand on cool scaly head, through the gates, and into a pain free life. The light all but blinding as the pearly gates swung shut, welcoming the friends into Heaven.
I am so frickin' sorry. I had to, idea in my head, trouble sleeping, wouldn't leave, I'm sorry. I cried a tad bit because I was watching the scene in my head. I could picture Toothless just greeting Hiccup in Heaven and I all but let out a sob. To all of you who are following my other stories, sorry for not finishing them, I just have no idea where to go with them. This is a one-shot, unless you want another chapter where the village finds his body and realizes the extent of their actions.
-AIC