So you know those old stories about vikings and dragons? Yeah. They're true. There are still Vikings and there are still dragons and yes, we still hate each other even though it's been a few thousand years. That whole taking revenge and holding grudges to the grave isn't really working out. But we're not like we used to be. A huge man in a helmet and wielding a battle ax is a little too noticeable nowadays. Nevermind the hundred pound, fire-breathing, flying reptiles. No. We've grown since then, learned to blend in for the most part, unless you know what to look for. We Vikings are still huge and terrifying and carry too many weapons at any given time (which makes airport security pretty interesting), but we don't stick out like sore thumbs either. What we do is more of a side job, and the rest of the time we have run lives like every other run of the mill family. We could be you best friend, your neighbor, your boss, your dog's groomer; and you'll never know. But being humans, the hardest part about that is explaining to your other friends just how exactly you got a burn mark there. Dragons are an entirely different matter. Those fire-breathing beasts have gotten a lot better at hiding. They can make themselves look like humans now, just like you or me, which makes things a lot harder. They could be absolutely anywhere and you'd never know until it was too late. We've done our best to deal with them, made new traps, new weapons, even an early warning system, but there are still a lot more of them than us. And it certainly doesn't help that they've moved on from livestock and food. That's still what they're looking for, but now they'll take everything they can get their claws on. Money, furniture, technology. They'd even take that old coupon for Taco Hut if it's between them and the fridge. And they only ever seem to attack us. No pedestrians, no Mongols or Romans. Only us Vikings. Though that might be on us since we still like to live in cold, miserable places near the sea. It makes live pretty hard. But we keep surviving. We're too stubborn to die out now. Though, when you have school on top of dragon hunting, I almost wish we would. Thank god we only have two weeks left.
"Mr. Haddock, I realize school is almost over but would you like to turn your attention to the lesson?" I quickly set down my pencil, folding my arms over my drawings. Show casing dragon weapon doodles to the math teacher wasn't exactly a good idea. Especially with how twitchy the schools were. I could hear a few of the other kids snickering at my misfortune. In an advanced math class and laughing when someone else gets in trouble. Real mature guys.
"Sorry, Mrs. Reiman." I said, glancing down at the floor instead of looking at her. The lady always reminded me of some kind of ugly dragon. All scaly and loud with freaky eyes that were always judging you. I wouldn't be surprised if she actually breathed fire on someone. She'd gotten close enough a few times. The old lady narrowed her eyes at me before huffing and walking back to the front of the classroom. I gave her a quick glance before turning my attention to someone else. The only person in my class that happened to be both a Viking like myself and a freshman in a junior class. Astrid. Most Vikings had nicknames that we used around each other. Just to identify each other easier. Finding a Barflout is a lot easier than finding a John or Emily. But Astrid, Astrid doesn't have one. She's too awesome for that. Beautiful too. Blond hair and amazing blue eyes. And of course she barely pays attention to me. The only time she so much as looks in my direction is when I've screwed up. Again. In school though, she does her best to deny my very existence. A lot of the other Vikings in the school do. And a lot of the other students as well. My reputation precedes me. What can I say?
Mrs. Reiman was babbling on about some kind of equation we were supposed to learn next year. It looked a little tricky but nothing I couldn't work out myself. Back to counting down the minutes until I got out of here.
-
Of course, once school is out, that means I have to deal with the others. The normal students all live on the south side of town, us Vikings on the north side. They don't come to our side, we don't go to theirs. It's safer that way and even they know that, though they don't know what they're safe from. It's better that way. So that means a wonderful forty minute bus ride with the only other Vikings my age, who all either hate me or use me for their own personal amusement.
"Hey Haddork!" Ugh. Snotlout. The other boy came up jogging beside me on our way to the bus. It had actually gotten here a few minutes early for once. Fishlegs was probably going to miss it. "I heard you broke stuff in chemistry. Looks like you're going to have to pay for it. Again. How do you pay for all this? Do you just have a special fund for when you mess up?"
"Thank you for that great question, Harald. Did you manage to fail another math test today?" It was fun to watch his face when I called him by his real name. He absolutely hated it.
"Don't call me that. And no, I didn't. We didn't even have a math test today."
"Uh, yeah. We did." And that would be Ruffnut. She was one of the twins and also one of the only girls. She was trailing behind us with her brother, Tuffnut.
"What? I thought you said it was tomorrow! I just got a D in there!" Snotlout turned on the two.
"Yeah. We did." Ruffnut just watched him with a smug grin.
"But we lied." And Tuffnut got a punch to the face almost as soon as he finished. Snotlout was on him fast enough. Ruffnut did nothing, like usual, just watched a laughed. I took the chance to get on the bus while they fought. Those three fought all the time. It was almost better when they did fight amoung themselves. It kept them from completely destroying the town. I took my usual spot at the front of the bus, right behind the driver. The Troublesome Trio liked to hang out at the back of the bus so they could make faces at people from the back window. Fishlegs sat a few rows behind me. He did a lot of his homework on the bus and sometimes we would help each other out on homework but that was about as far as that went. And Astrid, Astrid sat in about the middle of the bus. I didn't even try to invite her to sit with me anymore. I usually just sat there and worked on whatever or read a book. There wasn't much to do with just six of us on there. That didn't mean it was quiet though. Until the twins got off at the third stop, it sounded like a hoard of seventh graders were throwing a party in the back. Fishlegs was the first one to get off. He lived on the edge of our side of town, right next to the river that split the town in two. After that was Astrid, then the twins. It took another ten minutes until Snotlout got off at his house. Of course, being my cousin and all, he only lived a stop away from my house. Ah. The joys of family.
Speaking of, it's always reassuring to find your monstrously huge dad looming over you when you get home. Stoick the Vast. He was good enough to have two names. Which would only make sense since he was the 'chief' of the Vikings here. No pressure to fill those boots.
"Hey Dad. Something going on?" I asked, putting my backpack on a hook by the door. He wasn't usually home when I got there, too busy and all, which could only mean one thing.
"There's going to be a raid tonight." Yes! "We just found out an hour ago. They're going to come by sunset. I want you inside when they get here." He was practically staring me down with eyes that poked out under huge red caterpillars. He was serious this time. But then again, when wasn't he serious? His name was Stoick for a reason.
"I've figured out what was wrong last time. I can fix it. Here, let me show you." I started to unzip my backpack to get my sketchbook. I knew I could do it. If he would just give me another chance. I just needed to prove it to him. Instead, he interrupted me before I could even get it all the way open.
"No, son. I want you inside. We have this same conversation every time. You stay inside with Gobber and we'll deal with the dragons when they come. I don't want to see you out there tonight. Got it?" He was using 'that' voice. It must be a big one if he met me at home and used 'that' voice. Tonight was a perfect night to test it out again. Bigger raids meant it was more likely that it would show up. If I could get that dragon, I would be golden forever. At the very least I might be able to kill a Nightmare to make up for everything. But my dad was stubborn. I'd have to wait until tonight when everyone was busy. Just like what I did usually. But for now...
I gave a sigh. "Got it." I stared at the ground and pulled the zipper hard to close it. Dad gave me a long look before he said anything again. He probably knew what I had up my sleeve but with a large dragon raid on it's way, he had more important things to deal with.
"Good. Now go get something to eat and head over to the shop. I have to go but I'll stop by later to check in. So you'd better be there."
"Of course." I ducked around him and headed to the kitchen to grab an apple. Behind me I could hear him leaving the house, leaving me alone.
-
Gobber the Belch was one of the other great and important Vikings in our group. He was also my dad's best friend and my babysitter. Officially, I was his 'apprentice' but we all knew what he really was. He's a grouchy, sarcastic old man with a huge mustache and a missing a few pieces here and there. He ran the hunting store on our side of town, if you could call it that. It actually sold just about everything. We had everything from top grade guns and crossbows to silverware to prosthetic limbs. Basically, we sold everything you couldn't find at Walmart or the farm store. And I always got the fun jobs like inventory or cleaning up the spray paint isle. I found Gobber sitting towards the back of the store fixing some broken crossbows when I got there. I took my own place near him with a crossbow of my own. Someone dry-fired it and snapped a limb in half.
"So, how was school?" He asked without looking up from his work.
"Boring. Like always." I unscrewed the limbs from the rest of crossbow. "I heard there's going to be a raid tonight."
"Aye. There is. And you know where you're going to be?" He didn't bother to let me answer. "Here. Manning the shop."
"Are you sure you want to do that? Caging up all this," I gestured at myself, "warrior... ness?"
He gave me a flat look. "Yes."
"Alright, fine. But I could help! I have that crossbow I've been working on that-"
"Oh you mean that pile of junk in the back? Need I remind you that the last time you tried firing that thing, you left a dent in my car so big that it looked like you dropped a dragon on it?"
"That was a miscalibration. I fixed it"
"Just like you fixed the last one?"
"That was an accident and the cow was fine."
"What about that other one?"
"Hey, that one worked."
"It burned Silent Stan's house down. His eyebrows still haven't grown back."
I didn't have an answer for that one. I just glanced down at the ground and turned back to what I was doing. He won this round. We managed to go through a few more bows before he spoke up again.
"When you're done with that one, head back to the back and get started making bolts. We're going to need plenty once these are done."
I spend the next two hours putting together more crossbow bolts than I could count. I'd been doing it for a while and managed to get pretty good at it. The loud boom of a fire ball interrupted my work though. I grabbed as many of the bolts as I could carry and headed back to the front. Already, Vikings were pouring inside to get weapons. It was like handing out candy on Halloween. I dropped the bolts into a large empty bucket by the desk before heading to prop the door open. The shop was closer to the center of town but I could still make out the first wave of dragons moving their way in. A mess of Deadly Nadders and Grounkles were tearing up as much as they could. Nadders and Grounkles both were nasty beast. A Nadder could shoot poisonous spikes from their tails and breath fire hot enough to melt boulders. Grounkles, meanwhile, could spew lava and were heavy enough to crush a car. Both of them were considered lightweights as far as dragons we dealt with went. Nadders were quick but lacked fire power and were easily distracted. Grounkles, meanwhile, were slow and easy to hit. If I managed to get a Nadder tonight, that would get me noticed. And a Grounkle would definately get me places with the girls. If, of course, I managed to get out there in time.
"Hurry up with the bolts! We've got supply and demand here!" Gobber shouted at me as I ran back to the back. They'd already managed to clear out what bolts I had brought. It seemed like every time I brought more bolts, we were out already. By the time I managed to bring the last batch, the second wave had hit and things were starting to get pretty bad out there. Others had made off with most of the guns and crossbows, only Gobber's private stash was left. I found him loading up the wagon. That meant he'd be leaving soon himself. A Nadder spine had made it's way through the grating around the windows and embedded itself in the glass. Beyond that, the sun had almost completely gone down and the street lights were one. A Grounkle came slamming into the street in front of the shop with three bolts sticking out of it's side. I did my best to ignore it and help out Gobber.
"Go get me three rounds of .45s." He ordered. I got them and came back as fast as I could before he sent me to go get more stuff. The final piece was a heavy battle ax that he got himself. Those kinds of weapons weren't used as much as they used to be but we did still use them. Gobber's had been in his family for generations now and, as he liked to put it, 'axes were made to be used'. He took it out almost every time we had a raid and it usually came back bloody. Zippleback gas smoked around some buildings a few streets away before exploding in loud booms. Zipplebacks were sneaky, with two heads instead of one. Two heads, twice the rewards. With the Zipplebacks here, that meant the Monstrous Nightmares were around too. Those were some of the toughest dragons we faced and liked to light themselves on fire. Only the best went after them. None of them were what I was looking for. The dragon I wanted was much more dangerous than any Nightmare. And before the night was over, it'd come. It always did.
"Hiccup." Gobber was pulling the cart towards the door. I headed him off, punching the panel that would open the automatic door and holding the other open myself. "Things are getting messy. I'll be back. And for Pete's sake, do what your father asks for once and stay here." He said before wheeling off down the street, undoubtably to deal with that Zippleback. I gave him a nod before ducking back inside. I waited until the automatic door closed itself before running out the back with my own weapon.
Outside was chaos. Just a few streets away, a line of Vikings were hiding behind a car, opening fire on a set of Nightmares attacking the grocery store. Nadders were coming from the other side, shotting their spikes at the Vikings, dividing the attack between the two groups of reptiles. I just barely missed getting kabobbed darting out from an alleyway. Fortunately the other Vikings were too preoccupied to yell at me before I pulled away from the fighting. That was close. I was using a different path to my spot when I heard it, when we all heard it. A high pitched ballistic noise followed by a large explosion. The Night Fury had arrived. No one has ever seen a Night Fury. It's so terrifying that it's considered the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. And I was going to kill it.
I passed maybe a dozen fights on my way out to the cliffs. Luckily, I didn't come across my father. Both dragons and Vikings were dropping, more dragons than Vikings. When I reached the edge of the cliffs, the place was bare and empty. With the sky black, the Night Fury was invisible. I would have to rely on sound to find him. I hefted my huge contraption to my shoulder and waited. The thing resembled a bazooka but instead of firing torpedoes, it would shoot a special bullet that separated and spread a net over whatever I was aiming at. For several minutes, everything was quiet. The sounds of fighting was back behind me but that wasn't what I was listening for. Everything else seemed to fade out. There was nothing but me, that Night Fury, and the silence he was hiding in. At last, it came again, that ballistic sound. It was coming from the left. In three... two... one! I pulled the trigger and hoped that my net would hit. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, a loud roar. It was like nothing I'd heard before. Much higher pitch than a Grounkle's roar but lower than a roar from a Nadder. It was the roar of a Night Fury. I got him. I could just barely see his form as he fell towards the old part of town. It was abandoned and overgrown. Hopefully I could get there before he got away. I might have even made it there that night, if not for the Zippleback.
The dragon came out of nowhere. The only warning I had was a few thin trails of green gas creeping up behind me as I headed through the mostly deserted part of town. When I looked back, I didn't even see the thing, just a wall of green fog headed straight towards me. I broke out into a run and hid in a nearby alleyway just in time for the massive explosion that always marked a Zippleback ignition. I was an untrained fishbone. There was no way I could take on a Zippleback and win. And I had left my weapon by the cliffs. I was dead. I glanced around, trying to find a way out. There! A fire escape just a few feet away with the ladder down and everything. I ran straight at the thing, taking a clumsy jump onto the ladder. I made it to the first landing when one of the Zippleback's heads snaked around the corner. I froze and watched it. Hopefully, it wouldn't see me and would just leave. The massive blue head inched forward, it's yellow eyes scanning for anything alive and moving. Just when I thought it was going to give up, the head jerked up and stared straight at me. It let out a low hiss, green gas pouring out of it's mouth. I wasn't waiting around for the second head to arrive and turn me into a fried fishbone. I pulled myself up the ladder as fast as I could. The dragon wasn't far behind, scrambling up the sides of the buildings around us in favor of flying. I made it to the roof just a few minutes before the dragon did. There wasn't really much of a plan beyond don't die, so I booked it across that roof as fast as I could. Fortunately, it was an industrial building rather than a residential one and had a nice flat roof. The dragon chased after me, each head biting and snapping. When we reached the edge of the roof, I did the stupidest thing possible and jumped. The gap between the two buildings was at least four feet across. I was lucky that I managed to make it to the other side, though, I did get few nice scraps from landing poorly. The Zippleback didn't have the same trouble. After about the third building, we finally started to come across others. Battles started popping up below us, battles that the Vikings were winning. They had managed to net several Nadders and Grounkles, and were working on forcing the Zipplebacks and Nightmares to retreat. It was nice to know that things were going well for them. Behind me, there was another loud bang and the edges of my pants started to sizzle. This wasn't going well. And running out of buildings wasn't helping much.
I skidded to a stop, banging into the concrete wall and nearly toppling over the side. A street separated me from the next building and I didn't see a fire escape on this side. I turned around to the site of two massive heads staring down at me, one sparking angrily and thin trails of green gas leaking from the mouth of the other. I was going to die a horrible death by Zippleback. The head on the left let loose a cloud of gas and I did my best not to breath in. Zippleback gas was toxic and could make a person nauseous with just the littlest bit. I tried to lean back to get away from them, but with absolutely nothing behind me, I stopped that pretty quick. I still hadn't decided which was a better way to go, getting blown up or falling to my death. The right opened it's mouth- only to get interrupted by a large tire ramming into the side of it's head. All three of us looked to the ground to see who had done it. And you know, I'd take falling to my death or being blown up over what was really going to end me. My father. When the Zippleback broke left to take on the new challenger, I ran to the right, praying for a fire escape or something. Anything that could get me off this roof.
As it happened, it didn't have a fire escape but it did have a door on the roof that led inside. Which would have been great if it wasn't locked. While I searched for something that I could pick the lock with, I could hear the fight between my father and the Zippleback below me. So far, my dad was winning. Not that that was very surprising. He was the best dragon killer in the Hooligan clan. The man fought Nightmares with his bare hands for Pete's sake. By the time I had gotten the door open and made my way down all four flights of stairs, my dad had just about finished off the Zippleback. I let him continue what he was doing and sped around the corner. Right into another Viking who was helping hold down a net full of Nadders. I rammed into him hard enough to send him stumbling, which made him loose hold of the net, which made it possible for half a dozen Nadders to escape. Along with all our food. I, meanwhile, bounced back into the back end of a partially full weapons cart. The brake wasn't working well, a surprisingly common problem in a clan that had to deal with me, and the whole thing went rolling down the hill, guns and all. A few blocks down, a Monstrous Nightmare successfully managed to light it on fire, which is not a good thing considering it had gun powder and a few other flammable substances on it. It lit three houses on fire before it fell to pieces. I winced at every curb it managed to cross. With those Nadders loose, the dragons apparently decided that they had enough of our stuff and began their retreat. I knew when Dad came up behind me but didn't want to look at him. Or the group of people who had come to watch the father son scene that was about to unfold. Wow, the burn marks on the side walk sure were interesting!
"Hiccup." He sighed. Which was worse. I did my best to brace myself.
"Ok, I know what you're going to say but I hit a Night Fury so we should probably get out there. It was headed towards the old warehouses."
He didn't even dignify that with an answer, just rolled his eyes before going back to glaring at me. "Did I, or did I not tell you to stay inside?"
"You did." Yeah. I was dead. But hey, what else was new? It's not like I didn't do this on a regular basis. I tried not to make eye contact with him, only glancing up from the ground every now and then.
"Why do you always do this? You know how this always ends! Everywhere you go, you make messes! I have more important things to take care of than cleaning up after you! Rebuilding houses for example." He waved a hand at the flaming buildings, which were now surrounded by firetrucks. "Do you have any idea how much time and money that takes? Never mind how much it costs to replace everything they take. Would it kill you to do as I say just once?"
"Sorry, Dad. I see the fighting and the dragons and I just have to join in. I can hold back my dragon slaying instincts."
He gave me an exasperated look. He was done with me tonight. "You might have instincts, but they are certainly not for dragon slaying." His gaze shifted to behind me. "Gobber. Take him home." The other man gave me a shove from behind. My father, meanwhile, headed towards the firetrucks, mumbling all the way. I saw Snotlout and the twins on the side snickering at my screw up. Astrid stood a little ways away from them, looking like she expected this to happen the whole time. Fortunately, Gobber led me away from them so I didn't have to listen to their sneering.