The War Mutt

Chapter 1

Really quick A/N~ this is my first story like this sorry if it's shit. Most to all of this book will be written at night while I'm running off of caffeine so some chapters will be better then others and some wont even have correct grammar or punctuation so I'm sorry.

They're the ones who make all the rules. You disobey them prepare for hell. That's the motto he grew up with, he learnt that motto off by heart. Its been repeated to him time and time again, punishment after punishment, beating after beating. He was trained to be a weapon for war, a brutal tactic for fear. Several years of training has led him to be this weapon of genocide who has no remorse, no guilt just bloodshed. This was his purpose in life, this is the only reason he is alive. It is what he was bred for.

All he has known is death, training and war. Carnage and gunfire, bombs and blazing fires fill his memories. He was taught from a young age not to smile, not to cry, not to care as emotions are a limitation that can get you killed in the heat of war. Being maliciously trained since he could run has made him the perfect weapon for war, only having breaks when he passed out has built his mind and body to go on with twice the stamina then normal men. If he meets you on the battlefield you'll need all your luck as he is brutal and cunning and he's there for blood.

The war has ceased for the time being and he's back to his training facility to prepare if the fighting should start once more. The facility now allows him to sleep as they don't want their precious weapon to break from lack of sleep if he jumps back into the war.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Up you get Mutt, it's six am time for training!" a voice belonging to his commander bellows through the door of his room. The commander's voice echoing around the metal walls creating a disastrous choir you would hear in the depths of hell. "MUTT!" the commander getting louder now "Mutt, if you make me come in there training will be worse, and you wont be sent to the healers!"

"I'm coming" he mumbles, luckily for him the commander heard it

"Good boy Mutt, you have five minutes to get into the training grounds!" the commander states still shouting, he doesn't know why the commander always shouts as it has to be difficult on his vocal cords but that's what the commander does and he has gotten used to it.

The training grounds was a massive room about twenty times bigger then his own room filled with an array of weapons, gymnastic mats for sparring, cardio machines, punching bags and a small area for a starter medical station so not to call in the healers as soon as you get hurt. He arrives into the training grounds after two minutes in full training gear. Ready for another day of being brutally beaten.

"Now Mutt you remember the rules don't you, just because you've been out fighting doesn't mean you can slack off." The commander states "you almost broke one this morning didn't you."

"Yes commander" he mumbles, mentally preparing to be punished as he annoyed the commander earlier but it never comes so he continues with the rules. "Rule one don't make the commander angry, rule two don't make any sounds when training or receiving a punishment, rule three no matter what injury you have never stop training until you cannot move anymore, rule 4 -" he calmly states

"I've heard enough, cease this foolishness of your dreaded yapping and go over to the weapons to start your training"

"Yes Sir" he walks over to the weapons area and picked up a bow n' arrow with a quiver and a sniper rifle while heading over to the target area. The years of work he put into perfecting his aim has really payed off as not a single shot was off from a perfect bullseye. Shot after shot, bullseye after bullseye he hit the target again and again showing the commander he hasn't lost any of his talent while recovering from the last battle in the war. "Sir may I ask a question?"