A pet. That's all he was. A fighting dog, trained and raised to sharpen his teeth on bones and find himself strength enough to kill his opponents and make his Daddy proud. He lived in a cage, cold and hard and unforgiving, but sometimes, just sometimes, his Daddy would let him sleep in the bed with him. If he did really well in a fight and Daddy was extra excited, he was allowed to stay after play time. Daddy frightened him sometomes. If he was bad or took to long in a fight, Daddy would threaten to eat him alive, even proving that he would by ripping the sack of his boyhood off and swallowing it whole. When pets screams of terror and apology appealed to Daddy, he fixed him right up!
Pet hadnt done badly since that day. He made sure he did the best he possibly could.
He watched, excitement buzzing through him as the platform holding the table was lowered, the purple haired chef yelling out in hysterical excitement as some poor unsuspecting human was lowered with the table, coffee cup clutched in their hand. It was a boy this time, a big strong looking boy with angry eyes. He ignored the sounds around him until he heard that one call, the order to attack, coming from his Daddy. "Fetch!" he shouted, and pet ran as fast as he could at the human, a laugh of happiness spilling from his mouth, drool dripping from his tongue. He got close, aiming to land a quick kick to the others head, but the boy caught his foot just in time! Pets eyes widened and flicked over to his Daddy, who glared in dissapointment. no.. NO! Pet couldnt handle Daddies anger, not again! Panic shot through his chest-
That wasnt panic. A small blade, clutched in the humans hand, had been thrust into him, right between the ribs. Pet stared down in awe as a red stain spread, staining his crisp white shirt with his own blood. A loud explosion sounded overhead and pet fell, chunks of roof and wall falling down around him as hysteria broke out, ghouls escaping in every direction. What was going on? Why were strangers coming in and killing the ghouls and other pets? He looked around, searching desperately for Daddy, begging him to come save him from the rubble, hed be such a good boy for him if he did so, he would even let Daddy be rough as he wanted without any tears! he just wanted so badly to be saved... There! there was Daddy! and he was looking right at him!
And then he was gone. Daddy turned and fled without him, leaving pet on the ground, bleeding out while humans killed others around him. Hot tears bubbled from his eyes and he started to wail. Why, oh why, did Daddy leave him? Why did Daddy abandon him? He had been a good boy, he had tried his best, he had lived for so long, bringing honor and victory to his Daddy. He would die now. Alone and abandoned, amongst the boots of the damned.
Darkness took him swiftly.

When he awoke, he was in a soft bed, but it felt different than Daddys bed, which made an alarm instantly go off in his head. He sat up quickly, a sharp pain, electric and wild, shot through his body, starting from his middle and branching out along his skin like he was made of shattered glass. He frantically looked around, freezing when a hand pressed against his head, forcing him back onto his back. he looked up into the others eyes, squirming and whimpering in confusion at the stranger.
Her voice came suddenly, trickling into pets ears and calming him. it was such a pleasant voice, asking him gently, sweetly, to stay laying down, and pet felt inclined to do as asked. "Hello" she murmured kindly "do you know where you are?". Pet shook his head, fists clenching in the sheets at his side. She nodded and looked at papers that sat in her hands, glasses glinting a little from the reflected light that filtered in through a poorly sitting curtain. She looked back up at him. "Do you know your name?". Daddy used to always call him pet. he knew that wasnt an actual name, so he just shook his head. She looked back at her papers. "According to your papers, your name was Peter Dollen, went missing at the age of two. Parents both died in a double suicide a few months later. Is it alright if i call you Peter?".
Peter... he liked that name. sat tastefully on his tongue and it sounded like the first three letters spelled pet. he liked it alot. He nodded at her, a small smile playing on his lips. They felt dry. everything about him felt dry and stiff, and he didnt like it, oh no. He couldnt fight effectively like this, hed be killed in an instant! if not killed in a fight, then Daddy would surely devour him. He looked at her, his mouth parting a little and his eyes begging her for some water. She seemed to understand, walking over to the sink and fillinga paper cup with water and bringing it back over to him. she held it next to his mouth and dribbled some water in, bit by bit, until the cup was empty.
"Can you speak?" the lady asked, throwing the used cup away. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes. Only Daddy was allowed to hear his sweet voice. He opened his eyes again, catching her frowning at him before she tried to cover it with a smile. "Do you know what happened?". Peter looked at the ceiling and frowned, trying to remember the events that had taken place. He nodded, still watching the ceiling. She moved off to the side, the sound of paper shifting drawing Peters eyes. She flipped her pad to a new page and pulled out a pen. "Can you write it all down for me?". Peter couldnt write though, so he shook his head. He could draw, however, and insistantly reached for the materials anyways.
Supplies in hand, he started doodling out what had happened, starting from when he entered the ring and ending with when he fell unconscious. he spent a little extra time to fill in the anguish he felt when his Daddy abandoned him. A sad face looked up at him from the paper. He handed it back over and the Lady observed. She sighed and shook her head. "Nothing... absolutely useless...". Peter frowned, leaning away from her. had he done something wrong? Had he upset her somehow?
She looked back at him, letting out a breath. "Dont worry, its not your fault. We just thought you might know something more.". He tilted his head at her. What could he know? "We are trying to look for the men who attacked the... arena..". She looked at the door, then back at him. "Get some sleep, Peter, you should be well enough to eat by the morning. If you remember anything else, ask to talk to Takune.". Peter nodded in understanding, laying himslef back down and turning to his side, eyes drifting closed as sleep took him again, dreams of Daddys warm bed dancing through his head.

Things twinkled through his dreams, dancing and trotting around like distant memories. Young, he was tiny, barely high enough to reach Daddys knees. He was scared. why was he scared? Daddy was there! Everything felt strange, new. He got to sleep in a box next to Daddys bed. When had that happened? he didnt remember any box! Things blurred again, then stilled. He was higher now, almost Daddys waist. On the floor, cold, crying, Daddy standing above him, hand raised, shiny red running along his arm and pulsing, blood dripping from the tip and pain in his side. He had a vague flash of deja vu before it simply slipped away and everything blurred again. Pain, so much pain rapidly zigzagging across his body, each time a new one crossed him came daddys angry or dissapointed face, and then he felt warmth on his tongue too, between the pain, something yummy tickling his mouth and Daddys proud face beaming at him and Good Boy cuddling his ears, then more pain, then a mix, that gradually turned into all good tastes and Good Boys. He barely remembered any of this until now.
Everything stilled again and it was a clear memory. He was standing in the arena, a young girl, about how old he thought he might be in this vision, crying at the table and clinging to a half shattered cup. A shout, a garbled "Fetch" seared his ears. He didnt move, he looked over at Daddy, who looked mad, then he shouted again "Fetch!" and Peter understood. He charged towards the girl and knocked her down. She started crying, her warm tears touching his fingers as he curiously poked at her. He heard Daddy yell, again, looking up. His face was red, enraged and sickened. "Kill" he commanded. Kill? why would Pet kill this little thing? She wasnt a danger. He stood up and looked towards Daddy, shouting back "Why?". That was his big mistake.
Shamed and angered, Daddy jumped down into the arena, grabbing pet by his shirt and dragging him out of the arena, the sounds of another toy entering the ring and a high pitched scream from the girl before it was cut off. Daddy yelled, his voice sending shockwaves of fear up pets spine, his breath, stinking of death and heat, choking pets voice from him. His head hit a wall as Daddy flung him, words never stopping until pets loose pants slipped down and his pretty little butt was revealed to the world. Daddy laughed, growling something about teenagers before he threw pet onto the bed, leaning over him and ripping his shirt away. Pet remembered struggling at that time, he didnt know about Daddys feel good gifts then. The mans hands travelled all over his body, clawing, tearing at his pale snow and freckled skin, his lips biting at his neck, not enough to break skin but enough to hurt.
time jumped a bit, Peter remembered how he felt heat in his lower half, Daddys hands playing with him there. He remembered Daddy making him scream and cry and moan, then he leaned up and whispered something in his ear. "This is what embarassing me gets you. this is what being a bad boy gets you.". Daddy stood up, lifting pets hips and sucking his boy sack into his mouth, pain as the thing was severed from his body making him arch and scream louder than his lungs had ever taken him. Everything went black.