Pariah


Chapter 2

Molding


The cracking of a whip could be heard in his confined space, he has come to know as his home. It was small, dark, cold, and dirty. He did not know how long he had been here, but it must have been years. He was certain that it was more than a decade by now. Was it? For the minutes became hours. The hours became days. Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months became years. He has simply lost track of time.

The whip cracked again.

The only thing he remembered was that he was ripped from his home at the young age of seven. He still dreams of the white and blue marvel halls of the place he used to call home. It was the last time he saw his parents Willow and Jaques Schnee. He never understood why they would ignore him. Never knew why they refused to show their love and affection towards their son. He knew that he had an older sister, but he never saw her, never knew her name. Did she even knew of his existence, he wondered? Doubtful. All he ever wanted was a family he could love. All he ever wanted was a family that would love him. Like in those books Klein brought him to read when he was but a boy. The only thing from his past he holds dear was his name, Wolfe. He discarded his last name years ago. And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again.

There once was a time where he would cry from all the pain he had to endure in this place. He would cry out for his mother and his father. That is what he once called them. The two people who should have loved him unconditionally. And yet they threw him away without a second look. To be forgotten in this dark place he now called his home. And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again.

He preferred the whip if he was being honest with himself. At first, the pain he felt was unbearable as it made contact with his exposed back. But now? Now, he did not feel anything. Nerve damage if he had to guess. For years his captors would use it on him. How unfortunate that he had gotten used to it. It made the process kind of dull while he stared into nothingness. And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again.

There were beatings too. Their punches and kicks were enhanced by something they had. Aura? Yes, they were enhanced by Aura. He had so many bruises and too many broken bones to count. Only for them to heal so that the entire process could repeat itself. They would always call him 'freak'. He did not understand why they called him that. He could tell that they were always in a state of unease when in his presence. But he did not know why. That question lingered in his mind, since his arrival in his new home. Why? But he did not dare ask. For every time he spoke the beatings would only increase. And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again. He could feel something cool run down his back now. Blood. His blood.

What was it they called him? A 'pariah'? He had never heard of this term before. He did not know what it meant. The only thing that he knew, was that it was the very reason they were afraid of him. The very reason why he was in this place he now calls home. It did give him a small amount of comfort though. Or was he simply going insane? And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again.

Who were 'they' anyway? From what he could discern they were employees of his former father's company. For they wore the white overalls of the SDC. But that was not all they were. No. From the few conversations, that these men had, that tortured him for so long, called themselves 'Huntsmen'. From some sort of Academy from the Kingdom of Atlas. 'The protectors of humanity' is what they called themselves. He, for some reason, found humor in that delusion. The only time he managed to smile. And because of it, he was beaten unconscious. And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again.

Their cruelty however knew no end. They branded him with a branding iron years ago. He knew that the letters SDC were on it. How ironic. Due to the pain, he lost consciousness, while his skin burned. And now he could only see through one eye. He did not know the crime he has committed to receive such a punishment. Was it for merely existing? He never thought such barbarism could exist within humanity. But it would seem that life would prove him wrong once again. How disappointing. And so his resentment grew.

The whip cracked again.

The only constant in his life was a woman they would send in to feed him, since the day he first arrived. Because even when he ate, they did not free him from his shackles. Like him, she was a slave. But she was not human. She was a Faunus, forced to work for the SDC. And like him, there were signs of physical abuse. One of the SDC guards had cut off half of one of her fox ears, while the others laughed at her pleas. He could tell that the wound was only a few days old and that she was in pain. She was older than him, of that he was certain. She might even be the same age as Willow, maybe younger. Her kind smile was the only comfort in his life. And because she was the only person to ever show him kindness, he started to call her 'mom'. She was shocked at fist but did not protest the title. Unlike the others, her eyes did not hold him in contempt. The only constant.

The whip cracked again.

And so with each passing day, his resentment grew. For the Huntsmen, these supposed protectors of humanity, that have been torturing him for years. For the Academy's and the Kingdoms for allowing these things to happen to him. For the SDC. For the people, he once called his father and his mother, people who cast him aside without any explanation. For the Schnee name. The culmination of all the abuse he has had to endure slowly but surely reached its tipping point. His day would come and he would not be in the mood to show mercy. For why should he give, when so much has been taken from him? To be free once again and exact the justice he so desperately yearns for. And nothing would stop him.

Nothing.