From my Blood
Chapter 3:

"Siegfried. Siegfried. Siegfried! Siegfried!!" The young boy, dressed in a fancy coat of armor and metal, stood before the wind to the dark world. He could see nothing through his bright blue eyes that starred onward into the sky.
'Was someone calling my name? Who is looking for me?' he wondered, as he turned back, his eyes dazed and half open as his bangs blew across his face and forehead. He saw no one in the distance. Was he alone?

"Stehen Sie auf und kämpfen Sie. Sie pathetische Entschuldigung für einen Krieger! Stellen Sie die Welt und den Kampf gegenüber! Errichten Sie Ihren Zorn, hassen Sie mich!"
"Father... Father!" he reached out to cling to his Father, as his legs stumbled and he nearly tripped, falling to the ground. Siegfried looked as his eyes became more glazed and his lips departed slowly as if to cry out for help. A single tear falling down the side of his face.

Siegfried shortly awoke, panting lightly and drenched in his own sweat.
He quickly wiped his face with the back of his arm and ran his fingers through his hair as he slowly sat up, his muscles aching. He turned to look out of his window as he pushed the sheets away from his body. The sun was up and it was morning, he was late for work.
Siegfried squinted and slowly inched away from his bed, slowly standing to his feet. He lightly massaged the side of his neck, hoping for comfort.
'The body pains must've caused the nightmares... I was out to late last night.' he thought to himself as he hurried to put on his normal outfit with his white baggy pants and orange shirt with hints of black that was neatly tucked into his pants.

He began to try and hurry, as he put on his boots. Siegfried bit down on his bottom lip, ignoring the pains in all parts of his body as much as possible and just endured it, heading out of the house as he sneaked past his Mother. Knowing his Mother as well as he does, she would force him to stay home and rest. His Master was always a real hot head man and would have his ass for skipping out on his chores.
Siegfried walked down the quiet little streets. The quiet, calm noises of the street was a relief. He wasn't in the mood to put up with the busy villagers today. Including whatever would be left of the loud celebration that lasted through the night. He slowly, but surely made his way down the calm street, his Faust hauled over his shoulder, gliding down his mid back.

Did he pray before he went to bed? He thought on as he tried to tune his mind to something else to ignore his aches.
He must've forgot to. He was much to tired to do anything else and just hit the hay. His Mother would be angry if she knew. But she would eventually find out, she asked him everyday if he prayed to God to heal his troublesome ways and straighten his rebelling and aggressive attitude. There were many times when Siegfried would grow out of control and just do as he pleased. This was the reason he felt like his Mother never loved him. Was he really such a horrible person that his own parents couldn't love him?
His Mother never gave him enough love and care. Siegfried was such a hard person to love. His sinful and blood thirsty behavior led him to become unlovable, even by his own kin. He would always eventually just blame his Father for all of it.
Why did he have to be so angry? Life just wasn't worth living. It's time to give up.
Siegfried felt the anger swirling about in his stomach once more, he began biting down harder on his bottom lip and realized someone approaching him from behind.

Siegfried quickly turned around, a small gasp escaping his lips. It was the trouble-makers from last night again. Were they planning on evening the score? Siegfried narrowed his eyebrows as he opened his mouth to tell their pathetic souls off, but before he could notice, was kneed in the middle of his spine, sending a jolt of pain and stun up his back, as he fell forward, luckily catching himself on his knee, practically kneeling at the boy he was facing.
Siegfried bit down on his lip again, trying not to scream in pain. His whole body was much to weak to defend himself, he laid helplessly as the mercy of the gang. His bangs dangled in front of his face as he gazed up at the boy before him with an angry expression.
He opened his lips once more to yell in frustration and tell them off, but was immediately shutten up with a elbow to the back of his head, causing him to fall down more, still staying up barely by kneeling and holding himself on his knee.

He was soon surrounded with a bunch of them wanting a piece of the action.
"Ha ha! Look at him! He's going to cry!" the boy who stood in front of him kneeled down to his level and laughed it up in his face.
"I don't cry and I won't cry for the likes of you, you trashy scrub." Siegfried grumbled and tried to defend him by slashing through them with his handy Faust, but even his arms were to weak to lift it and it just fell silent in the dirt.
"What did you call me?! How dare you talk to me like so! After you humiliated and wounded be at the Tavern last night!" he aimed his fist back and struck Siegfried in the face, causing Siegfried to finally lose his stance and fall on his side in pain. He hit his shoulder against the dirt and crossed his arms in front of him. He knew if he wouldn't get up, he'd just be hit more and more until he'd finally be a bloody pulp and would eventually be left to die.

He put his arms out in front of him, trying to sit up, but let out small painful cries and fell back down as he realized his back was damaged more than he thought. He quickly reached for his Faust to try and keep them away, but one of them stomped their heavy metal boot right on Siegfried's wrist, pinning it down to the ground, causing a loud pop sound of his wrist breaking, then kicking his Faust out of hard reach with the other foot. Siegfried cried in pain more as he laid helplessly, enduring the torture. Other approached him and looked down at the sad and pathetic sight with grins and laughter. They proceeded to kick him in his sides and legs, then kneeling down to punch him in the face. Drops of blood began surrounding areas of his body, a line of blood falling from the side of his mouth. Siegfried continued to struggle, but refused to beg for mercy or cry.

After half an hour of abuse, they finally laughed and threw his Faust on top of his chest and walked away with their swords and such. Clouds were cluttering the sky and it began to rain, pouring down on top of Siegfried. The weak young boy was to hurt and broken to move, so he laid still, hoping for someone who had witnessed the brutal abuse carry him home.
He tried to move his arms and lips to call for help, but was of no use. He attempted to throw his Faust off of his chest which was making it harder for him to breath, as he gasped for air. The rain became more violent and poured heavier, causing the dirt he was laying in to change into bloody mud puddles. Siegfried continued to try and cry out for help and finally gathered enough strength to scream for help, but no one would be able to hear him through the harsh raining.

He laid his head back down, figuring he was going to be left to die. He gathered some strength to reach his untouched arm to his chest and pushed his Faust off of him, into the mud, making a small splash and splashing little trickles of mud on his cheek.
The pain was now unbearable, tears began blooding from his eyes. He figured it made no difference if he cried or not, it was raining anyway and no one would be able to tell he was crying. The tears flooding from his eyes, he eventually blacked out and fell unconscious.

(Some German may be wrong. If you don't understand it, try using an online translator.
If you don't know one, just go to and search for "Bable Fish" I hope that helps!
Pardon my sucky German knowledge.)