Hiccup looped around the back of the village, keeping to the forest and away from the houses, at least for now. He was glad his prosthesis didn't make any noise as he moved. Two months worth of food. He could possibly nick only a day's worth of food from the market so, that option had gone out the window. God, he had forgotten how hard this was. His best bet would most likely be someone's house, that or the village stores (stores as in storage). Either way, it would be a bitch to get in. He groaned silently, not wanting to give away his position. He probably stuck out like a sore thumb anyways but why risk it? The village stores would most likely have guards and someone's house would definitely have someone in it. And what about the steel? The damned blacksmith wouldn't have any and he wouldn't even know how to make any in the first damned place. Once again, he groaned silently. Why does this have to be so hard?
He passed another row of houses and picked the largest. The backdoor opened easily. Turns out, it was the chief's house. How did he know? Because the chief was still inside, enjoying himself a quick tankard of mead. He was facing away from Hiccup thankfully, so, Hiccup did what he had to. He knocked the large, towering chief out. It was easy. He snuck up behind him and a quick blow to the head. Hiccup prayed his didn't hit hard enough to do permanent damage. After all, village has to have a chief. He swung his head around to examine the inside of the house. The insides were unusually spacious for a Viking house, even though this was the chief's. The walls were adorned with shields of all designs, some painted in deep blues, others in bright reds and others still in the most bizarre ways. There was a purple shield at the very end of the row. The fireplace was burning, smoke rising lazily and logs fiery. The flames danced. The illumination in here wasn't as great as Hiccup had expected. No windows, no shafts of lights. Perhaps the chief wanted them closed for some reason. He then noticed something off over the fireplace. Small notches in the stone. Each carved with barely a space between them. There were at a thousand. Perhaps even more! Then, he noticed a pattern. Notches were separated into groups of 31 or 30. And these groups were lumped together in larger groups of 12. Then he realized what it was. Marking days. Marking years. Something built inside of him. Fear? Or was it dread? He quickly counted the large groups up, making the calculations in his head. Every single group he added to the count only made that sick feeling inside his stomach grow even further. Then, he finished his total. 8 years. It couldn't be. He then counted the more recent marks. His heart was pounding mercilessly against his ribcage, as if to burst from the inside out. Then, he stopped. 8 years, 9 months, 21 days. Today was the day his village was raided and his mother died. He started to shake his head, tears springing to his eyes, sobs building in his chest. This couldn't be happening. This isn't real. No. No. NO! He cried out and slammed his fist against the stone of the fireplace chimney. The mortar holding it in place cracked and the stone shifted in its place. The entire chimney seemed to shake.
His tears dried up and venom began to build in his throat. He looked at the unconscious chief lying on the floor. He was a large man, heavily stocked and with a thick beard and braids in his hair. Thoughts of torture and pain raced through his mind. Hiccup felt anger grow inside of him, hot flames burning within him, rage that Hiccup had only felt on two occasions in his short life. He stared at the chief with contempt and hatred. And in that moment, he let himself go. He suddenly knew why Berk looked so hostile to him, why he hated every second here. He looked again to the walls. There! The village's emblem! He had seen that emblem before but he just couldn't place it! It was there the day his village was raided! Memories of pain and suffering flashed through his mind. Those weren't bandits! Hiccup's face twisted into a maelstrom of so many emotions combined into one. Anger, sadness, sorrow, rage, confusion and excitement and so much more. It was indescribable how Hiccup was feeling. Every nerve and fiber of his being ached for Hell. His body yearned for blood. His hands twitched, eager for the kill. Even his prosthesis seemed to glow with deadly energy. He looked back down at the chief again and, for a brief second, he smiled. He picked the unconscious chief up and put him in a chair. Hiccup picked up the empty tankard and walked over the keg of mead in the corner of the chief's house. No longer did Hiccup care for supplies or whatever. He wanted bloody-damn revenge.
He filled it to the brim and took a sip, frowning. Shite stuff this is. Hiccup spat it out onto the floor and walked back over to the chief. He splashed the chief's face with the mead and he spluttered awake. He was confused for a second, not recognizing the strange man in front of him, "Hey, what are you doing here?" The chief couldn't even see the fist that came barreling towards him. Hiccup's fist connected with the chief's skull and sent him out of the chair, hurtling to the ground. Hiccup didn't even hold back. Maybe he had broken the chief's jaw? He had hoped not. He wanted the chief to talk. "Do you know who I am?"
"What? I don't…" Hiccup's foot connected with the chief's ribs. He could feel one crack. Pain flared in the chief's body.
"Answer me." Hiccup's voice was low, almost like a dragon. Course, dragons weren't real, "ANSWER ME!" He roared, not caring if anyone heard.
"No! I DON'T KNOW YOU! Who are…" Punch, kick, lift. Hiccup was now holding the man who must've weighed twice as much as he did off the ground. He looked the chief in the eyes and tossed him back at the chair. It broke underneath the weight of the chief combined with the force of the throw. Hiccup held nothing back. Even his prosthesis flowed with him, it seemed to have a mind of its own and this mind wanted blood as well.
"What's your name?" Hiccup's voice was low again, deeper, quieter.
"Stoic! Please! What do you want? I've done nothing." The chief almost seemed to be pleading. He was drunk. Hiccup could smell it. This would be fun.
"Done nothing? Doesn't seem like it… Stoic. You remember don't you? What happened eight years ago?" Hiccup was being vague on purpose. It was more dramatic to have the man figure it out by himself.
"No, I don't…" Kick. Kick. Lift, toss, break table. Stoic was coughing, reeling from the attacks that had come his way, "Look, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Really? Does Lykos Island ring any bells?" Of all the times for Hiccup to remember what his home island was named. Lykos.
"Lykos?" The chief paused. Sudden realization dawned upon him, "You! You were there!" "There? I lived through it." Hiccup stalked his way over to the chief and paused over him.
He walked over to the mead keg, lifted it up and hefted it up, "I was that little boy." Hiccup stopped in front of the chief and raised the keg even higher, "Who you trapped under a burning house." And brought the keg slamming down onto the chief's legs. The chief cried out in pain, shouting and yelling curses. Everyone would've heard by now, "And who you forced to watch his mother being raped and made to cut his own damned leg off!" To emphasize, Hiccup drove the end of his prosthesis into the chief's back. Another cry of pain. He lifted the chief up once more and tossed him towards the row of shields he had on the wall. A heavy thud ran through the air and the shields clattered down with him, the clang clang clang of metal on metal. The chief seemed to be panicking now. In haste, the chief grabbed a shield off the floor and was now using it to defend himself. He held the shield between himself and Hiccup. Funny. It was the purple shield. Hiccup leaped toward him, grabbing the edge of the shield and tearing it out of the chief's hands. The chief seemed dumbfounded and Hiccup used the chief's confusion to smash his across the face with his new weapon. Once again the chief was on the floor, belly up. Hiccup raised his prosthesis and sent it slamming onto the chief's foot, breaking the bones in it. More cries. More curses. He raised it again and broke the bones in the other foot. Yet more cries and yet more screams. Was the chief… Crying? All this was bringing a smile to Hiccup's face. He didn't even care that Astrid was from this village. In fact, when he got back, he might even kill her too. Or set his monster upon her. Or toss her out into the sea. Darkness clouded his thoughts but Hiccup embraced that darkness. Welcome old friend. And one more time, Hiccup picked the chief up, raised him over his head and tossed him through the door, the wood splintering and giving way under the sheer force of the throw, the chief's weight only made it easier. Out into the open. Everyone should see this. Might as well. It could be the last thing they see before he slaughters them all. Just as they did to his island.
Little long (in my standards that is but I think you deserve it after how long it took me to update this damned thing. Hope you liked it! Also, this fight scene isn't as detailed as I wanted but I didn't want it to be. I'm so tired right now and I haven't slept in ages. Good bye ladies and gentlemen and to all a good night (or day or morning, depending on when you're reading this).
