𝑩𝒆𝒓𝒌

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

⚠️Warning⚠️
This chapter contains graphic violence and gore - including death. Please do not read unless you're comfortable

It was too much. All of it was too much. Whenever he looked at it, all he could see was that eye staring back at him from an abyss- trapped in a cavern of darkness where the only escape was encased in a tunnel of fire and jaws. No matter how much his mind pondered about the event, his mind would only ever come to the conclusion that the beast that had cornered him had decided that a cowered such as himself didn't deserve a death as honourable as his sisters; and instead of wasting energy cremating the quivering rat, let him freeze to death instead. And Toby would've if it wasn't for his parents.

It was every time he looked at it. It looked exactly like that thing. He hated it, every time it tried sharing its food with him, every time it would nudge him, every time he would wake up to see it inside his room, Toby could feel an unsettling amount of anger bubble and boil up within him. That anger would begin to overflow- out of control- and hiss as it would burst whenever anyone would side with that monster. And then there was Jeff. Just at the thought of his face, Toby's hands balled up into tight fists- his knuckles turned white as his fingers dug into his palms. An inaudible huff escaped past his gritted teeth as the green and rocky path before him seemed to narrow- or was he just glaring again? He couldn't tell anymore. He didn't care anymore.

Why should he have to live up to the norm that the village had produced? That even his sister had been unknowingly promoting onto him at a young age- despite what history had proven. Despite what their ancestors had gone through- why should Toby have to make peace with monsters that had no right to be allied with Vikings? Just because a couple of kids had decided to go against the norm, Toby was the maladjusted one. It was outrageous in his mind- but then again, those kids that changed the Berk way were his parents, well two of them. And his parents had been with him through so much- legitimately since day one. It felt so wrong feeling such a strong hatred for what they were passionate for, and he'd tried his best to change in his eyes, but it just wasn't possible. Some people are just a certain way, and sometimes one cannot change that- nevermind a whole tribe.

Bringing him out of his thoughts, Dragon nudged the back of Toby's left shoulder with its snout, causing Toby's head to snap in the direction of the creature. His hazel hues held hot hatred within them; like it was swirled in with the brown flecks of his eyes. For someone with rather earthy coloured eyes he held much more resemblance to fire. He was persistent, stubborn, and hot headed. "How many times have I told you not to touch me?" Toby seethed, his narrowed eyes sending the dragon a death stare- whenever the boy would confront Dragon, he would always crane his neck- almost unconscientiously attempting to make himself appear bigger.

Frustrated, Dragon huffed in response, but did almost make a whine like noise- as if questioning the boy's behaviour, almost asking him if he were alright. And once again, its compassion was only met with anger. "Why would you care?" Toby asked- his tone was less aggressive yet was still extremely agitated. “All you ever do is follow me around and act like you care about me, when you don't! You're a monster!”

It had escalated so quickly. Too quickly for Toby to process what he did next. It happened in a flash. And the memory of it all was repeating.

A warm liquid coated the boy's shaking hands. The crimson coloured everything his eyes could dart to. The grass beneath his feet... The dagger in his hands... His sleeves. His vision slowly became blurry, causing the vibrant, dark red to slowly merge with the dulling turquoise and fresh greens. The feeling of something hitting his cheeks caused him to quickly wipe his eyes with the back oh his hand- avoiding the blood on it. How did a morning walk turn to... this? Toby's stomach churned at the sight of the butchered carcass that laid before him. Unmoving. He felt sick. He wasn't capable of that, surely? He wouldn't stoop down to their level. What would his parents think?

The gip on his dagger's handle only grew stronger the longer the dragon attempted to talk to him. It frustrated him. But, what frustrated him more was that it was so persistent. It couldn't take a hint, no matter how much he told it. All he wanted was a calm walk, to clear his head. To be alone. That's all he wanted, to be alone.

The thought was unbearable.. He needed to leave. He wouldn't be able to hide this, and Thor knows what would happen to him if he were to let people find out and give him a punishment for his actions. So, as much as it scared him, Toby needed to leave. And quickly.

The blade almost stopped at the wintery coloured scales, but due to the force Toby had swung with it, it plunged through the thick layers of protection, piercing the more tender muscles of the beast. Said creature roared out, in pain, its rounded pupils immediately turning to slits. As soon as the knife was in, it was out- Toby was ready to strike again.

Where would he go? The uncertainty only made the knot in his stomach grow tighter. He'd never left Berk, so he had only a basic idea of how to navigate to the nearest Tribe. But would that be far enough? This was one of the times he needed to just act. Not think.

Toby plunged the blade into the dragon, once again, before it could react, slicing and aiming the blade for its throat; the creamy coloured scales being splattered with the dark red liquid that oozed out- just like the turquoise ones on its side.

Silently slipping into his room, making sure not to disturb any slumber, Toby rushed to his drawers. It was rapidly approaching dawn and, despite Raven Point not necessarily being popular, people would question why Toby wasn't being followed around by the Mountain Nightmare. Gently, Toby's hands clutched his blanket, staining it red. He quickly began to wipe his face and hands, desperately attempting to rid himself of its blood. Once somewhat satisfied, the boy grabbed his satchel- and a basket. He pried open the bag, peering inside. Kransen. Book. Quill. Ink. He could fit a compass in there- to which he packed. Next he grabbed Odin, gently placing the hedgehog into the inside pocket of his jacket. Finally, he grabbed a few blankets and extra clothes into the basket, making sure to leave room for some food.

Toby crept down the stairs, carefully making his way to the kitchen. Upon entry, Toby began to grab bread and herbs- anything that was edible for him and Odin and stuffing it inside the basket. However, when he turned around- to leave- he was met with the curious gaze of two, circular, pale green eyes. The pair of orbs looked up to him, coming from a black vessel, almost as if it wore the night. The dragon inhaled, almost sniffing Toby and his belongings. He froze, tensing up. “Toothless,” Toby began quietly, very slowly and carefully raising a shaking hand to place on the dragon's forehead, “I'm leaving for a bit. On a trip, okay? So don't tell Mum, or Dad. A-And keep them safe.” Toby instructed as the dragon hummed in return, seeming to relax when Toothless nuzzled the palm of his hand, somewhat. But, as soon as the dragon had closed his eyes, Toby pulled his hand away- almost startling and confusing him. His eyes shot open as his ears lifted, watching Toby rush to the door, almost bewildered by the teen's strange behaviour, not to mention that his scent had change slightly- something peculiar, which he couldn't pinpoint.

And with that, Toby sprinted to the docks. He knew what he needed to do. Grab a boat and leave. Let the Gods choose his path, at sea.