A/N: This first chapter will be a background chapter for those of you who I don't know in real life. Because if I did, you would know this. Anyway, this is a quick run through of Reaver Forgot's past... All fan trolls featured in this fan fiction are mine. I own them. I created them. I want them to be in cahoots with Andrew Hussie's characters, but they aren't. So, yeah. I'll stop babbling.
Reaver's small frame wriggled in the iron maiden. Her Guard Wardens were horrible trolls. The chains that covered the small Memarian troll's body weighed almost over one whole human ton, but Reaver wouldn't have known that.
The chains prevented Reaver from growing properly, and so did the iron maiden's spikes. Reaver had found a way to be impaled by the spikes without actually causing any internal damage. The spikes were digging into Reaver's bones. It was better than bleeding to death. Nobody would've known, though. That was the problem with clear blood. You couldn't see it.
Today, although, was Reaver's wriggling day. She was turning four Memarian sweeps old. This was eight human years old. But Reaver had never met a human. How would she have known about human time?
Orthac and Eythyr knew that today was Reaver's wriggling day, however. The two blackbloods thought it was putrid. A Memarian born as a wriggler. Oh, they had an amazing wriggling day present. She would love it.
Orthac stood behind Eythyr, a knife in his hand. Eythyr already had his belt off. The two blackblooded eighteen sweep old's stood, waiting.
Reaver snapped awake. Her black hair was in her eyes again. She couldn't do anything, though. She was lucky enough that her Guard Wardens hadn't heard her groan, but she wasn't for long. Her anxiety flared up. She remembered wait day it was. She could feel it. It was her wriggling day. She hoped today wouldn't be her Horn Ceremony, though. She feared rejection by her patron. Reaver knew very little about Memarians herself. All she knew was what she heard from her Guard Wardens. But she didn't pay attention to them.
Reaver glared against the harsh light that shone through her over-grown bangs. It had been three and a half Memarian sweeps since she had seen light. She remembered how bothersome it was.
Eythyr took Reaver's forearm that was covered in chains and threw her to the ground. The chains rattled. Orthac and Eythyr could hear a crack as Reaver hit the ground. She made no movement to stand back up or made a sound.
Eythyr pulled all the chains that covered Reaver's torso down to her arms and tightened them. Reaver tensed as he did so.
Orthac took the knife and slit right down the center of the straitjacket the Reaver wore, exposing her entire back.
Reaver shivered as the cold air touched her back. She didn't try to crane her neck to see behind her. It would of proved useless, anyhow. Her hair would've blocked everything.
Orthac dug the knife into her back, carving the word, "useless". Reaver tried not to scream.
The Guard Warden carved more words into the young troll's back. Stupid, worthless, die, petty excuse for a Memarian, slut, needy, whore, ugly, and more. He laughed as each letter was carved into her back. He laughed the way only a blackblood could've laughed. He laughed as the clear tears quietly slid down Reaver's cheeks.
Eythyr, shirtless and horny, stood watching. Of course, his matesprit would have been furious, but he didn't care. She was boring, anyway. She didn't meet his needs.
Orthac finished off by cutting in the "sun" symbol and "Mars" symbol; the symbols of the two Guard Wardens.
Orthac flicked his wrist at Eythyr to signal that he was finished with his business. Eythyr smiled horribly.
"You're fucking lucky, c-" Eythyr said. Reaver couldn't catch the last word, but had a slight idea of what it was.
Reaver squeaked for the first time when she felt something against her skin. It was slimy and flicked around to much. Reaver felt scared.
She felt it enter her nook; although, Reaver didn't know that was what it was called. Reaver cried at the feeling of pain. She felt like throwing up. The bigger male inside of her was excrutating.
"You better shut your fucking mouth, bitch," Orthac, her Guard Warden said. Eythyr laughed. Reaver laid on the ground, defensless, and with a broken jaw, in agony. Every time Eythyr thrust into her, a new pain came. Reaver couldn't remember the last time anything was this painful. Even fighting more than two thousand trained Memarian men didn't hurt this much.
Reaver cried again.
And again.
And again.
Then she was thrown back into her iron maiden. Used and abused.
The iron maiden didn't dig into her bones, this time. The thorns were everywhere but.
Today was Reaver's sixth wriggling day. Reaver felt the burning hatred in her throat. She wanted to scream at her stupid Guard Wardens. She felt much more alive today, for some reason. The planet Memaria was going to be destroyed. They were all going to die. That made Reaver smile.
Reaver decided that it was time. Reaver sank the thorns deeper into her back so that they would support her weight. She brought up her knees, and kicked. Hard.
The iron maiden's door swung open, then fell off of its hinges. Orthac and Erthyr looked over from where they were playing cards.
"You bastards! I hope that whatever comes kills you two first!" Reaver yelled. She stretched her arms, and the sound of twisting metal could be heard. Fear spread across the Memarian's blackbloods eyes.
The chains rattled and were thrown to the floor.
Reaver clenched her fists. "I hope you realized that what you did to me will never be forgotten." she growled.
Orthac and Eythyr flinched at Reaver's passing, but she made no move to hurt them. Not. One. Move.
Once Reaver was outside, news had been sprung. Eyes of all different colors were on her. Trolls with their black horns, and younger Memarians who had yet to have their Horn Ceremony. Reaver smiled at them and walked away.
A/N: Like I said in the begining, this is just an introduction to Reaver's past to explain somethings that occur in the future. Just so you know. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!