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Fostered...From hell.

A tales of the blind pig story by Jerethdagryphon.

Disclaimer: the following story contains mention and graphic description of child abuse in all forms. also contains transformations trangender light bathing nc incest and violence i make no apologies for the acts within,

I do not hold nor condone such heinous acts;

Background:

in the late 90s a Martian probe brought back soil and rock samples along with a virus the Martian flu : those who survived the flu had a chance at catching a secondary condition that would warp there body into virtually anything gender age species all to a varying degree this condition was called scabs

Steins Chronic Accelerated Bio-morphic Syndrome. This story takes place many years after the initial infections and after laws protecting scabs victims had been put in force

A bright young nurse walked through a modern hospital, escorting a pair of people towards the security section of the hospital.

"I must warn you, he's not well right now he has the Martian flu and is showing signs of S.C.A.B.S."

A young nurse said as she led the pair past a security checkpoint and stopped outside of a locked room guarded by a male-armed police officer.

"Is that the reason for the guard?" one of the guests, a female canine of some type whose body was mostly that of a canine but had relatively untouched hands asked.

"No. well let's have a look at the boy and I'll fill you in".

Reading off a clipboard in her hand, as the prospective fosterer's looked at the disheveled and obviously ill child nestling in a pile of filth and debris on the floor, the nurse began.

"His name is Mikael Thornwood"....

Six months earlier.

"Mikael get your sweet ass in here, Now!" His father a middle-aged man shouted angerly into the once still air.

Mikael started at the shout placing his hammer and tongs down in the furnace his current project forced abandoned as he moved hesitantly to deal with his father fearful of what was to come.

"Mikael where is the remote? Damn it boy you know your not to touch my shit!"

Mikael stood there, past experience warned him to brace himself as his father stood swaying a little under the effects of alcohol swooped over, eyes wide with anger, his hand searching for something, anything to bring to hand to punish the boy. A smirk of satisfaction formed on the fathers face as his hand closed on a empty whiskey bottle. Swinging the bottle around at Mikael's head, the boy tried to duck, to shield his face with an arm as the bottle smashed into his skull driving more shards of glass into his scalp.

Groaning slightly Mikael slid to the ground blood flowing from his head as he lost consciousness.

Consciousness returned to Mikael a while later, the sun was down, and he apparently was draped across the coffee table a pain in his gut and lower back revealed what else his 'punishment' consisted of. Trying to open his eye proved difficult as once again dried blood covered his face fortunately though this time the cuts in his head had stopped of their own accord.

Staggering upright, he noticed the wad of 20's next to where he was laying more payment, or apology money.

Mikael's dad while a violent and aggressive man was not a man without heart, and once the rage of anger passed, money soothed away his sons hurts, money made things o.k, and most of all money made sure Mikael NEVER told anyone what went on in his home.

Pocketing the pile of notes Mikael pulled up his trousers and headed out to his one place of refuge his one solace in his life, the small brick lined room near the stables. His forge, his smithy...his refuge for the last four years

The small smithy had been dilapidated when Mikael found it tucked to the rear of the stables, the roof had collapsed in and most the equipment was useless. The anvil however was sound a light coating of rust covered it, but sound nonetheless.

There was even some bar stock still left in a rotten cupboard.

One day after a particularly brutal punishment by his father four years ago.

Mikael fled there, and taking a rod of stock started smashing everything in sight. By chance, the bar hit the anvil and rang, sound steel against sound steel.

The vibrations caused him to drop the bar. Finally; he had something to beat on that wouldn't beat back.

Even as an 8-year-old child he knew, at least the basics of his discovery, and a vague plan formed in his mind.

As the days went by he found himself spending more and more time there when he wasn't being 'punished' by his father, nor 'rewarded' by his mother.

As both of his parents paid him off for their ill use and mistreatment, not that he understood it as such. Such things being the correct protocol in his house, he grew to have quite a sizable sum saved up several thousand dollars at times.

This money wasn't available for much. As it was pointless to go out without powders covering his bruises, his private tutors dealt with his learning, and if they questioned his injury's. Well they soon found themselves under intense scrutiny. He was Accident-prone and that was final. He had no friends to come over despite having the latest of 'everything'. Therefore, the money sat in a pile in his room, his private hell for not even there could he get any peace.

As the entire 80-acre's and house was his fathers, who was from old money, Mikael had to ask permission for anything failure would result in a beating or worse.

"Father?" Mikael began hesitantly.

Mikael's father when not drunk ,(a rarity) and not mad ,(even rarer) was passable to speak to even if his hands tended to drift.

"Yes, Mikael what is it?" His father replied as Mikael felt his hand brush against his bottom.

"The room behind the stables... can I make it a work room?" he asked trying to keep pleading tones from his voice. His father despised pleaders.

"Yea sure go ahead may as well do something, his father replied before being distracted by something on the TV."

Carefully stepping away from his father lest the encounter became something else, Mikael headed for the smithy with permission to do anything needed.

Once the smithy was cleaned of years of weeds and returned to a semblance of order, Mikael had a place to relax a place to take out stress on inanimate objects... The way his father did on him.

His original thought when acquiring this sanctuary was for a neat place to chill.

Only later on further examination did it occur to him that this could be a distraction to his otherwise dreary life, away from his parents and away from all the aches and pains.

Over the next months, the money received from his parents saw use, first in books and then in fuel as he began to learn about blacksmithing.

Simple things at first, as his learning had been on book reading, and trial and error, learning the art itself.

Then as the acts of his parents continued, and the funds flowed in Mikael learned more and more advanced techniques before forging his first battle worthy blade at the age of nine, a simple unornamented short sword. With a straight metal cross guard and a cloth wrapped hilt. Nothing pretty but it was effective allowing Mikael take out his anger on trees and pieces of wood.

It wasn't until near his tenth birthday that Mikael found references concerning artifice blades weapons far more ornate then functional.

Mikael's family noticed his change in attitude he seemed happier and freer,

Changes that bothered his father,

"Mikael is my son my property why is he so 'up' these days something's not right....

Maybe I should talk to him find out what he's doing he's certainly not moping around the house, and I know he doesn't go to other peoples." Mr. Thornwood thought to himself.

His mother was having similar thoughts thinking of how much better her son was behaving, why even his tutors said his grades were up from last time, perhaps she should reward him for being such a good boy.

Her fingers moved nearer to her crotch as she thought about allowing her little boy to please her.

During the next few days as Mikael's father drank and smoldered about his sons' actions and attitudes.

Things finally came to a head on the Friday. After Mikael accidentally broke a plate while washing the dishes his father heard the crash and took the opportunity to vent his frustrations and anger.

Staggering to his feet and storming over, his alcohol and rage driven force slammed the young boy into the stainless steel refrigerator.

The force of being driven into the fridge made Mikael see stars momentary, which was better then seeing his fathers large fist come plowing into his face breaking his nose and making blood flow.

Crying out at the pain, Mikael only managed to infuriate his already raging father as he continued to rain blows and verbal insults down on his helpless son, fracturing his arm and cutting his head. After releasing the savage beating on the boy his father picked him up bodily and dropped him on the kitchen island

Still bellowing at the boy his father grinned evilly and grabbed one of the cooking knives.

"I don't know what you've been doing but if you're planning on betraying me and all I've done for you I'll beat that idea out of you!"

Sticking the knife none too gently down Mikael's waist his father swiftly and savagely cut his pants and boxers off of him leaving him naked from the waist down and bleeding sluggishly from several superficial knife cuts.

Snarling he whipped off his own belt a nasty biker style studded leather belt wrapped the end around his hand he began to whip the poor terrified and beaten youngster. The pointed metal studs and harsh leather tore the boy's rear end to shreds.

The beating finally stopped after a dozen or so lashes Mikael wasn't quite sure all he knew as that he hurt he hurt more then he has ever hurt before.

Shortly before he lost consciousness, he felt a harsh rag wiping the blood off his ass. Before he felt something else, something all too familiar, Mikael stopped fighting against the pain, having to give his father satisfaction after the beating he took was too much. Gladly he embraced the darkness swimming up before him..

Mikael woke his wounds had been treated a bottle of prescription painkillers lay by his end table and as usual a large wad of cash had been tucked under his pillow.

Trying to move was far too painful that day so he spent the day in bed reading and studying artifice methods while his mind worked on his own designs....

Mikael recovered from that savage beating physically though his butt still showed scars

Mentally however he had changed.

Each time his father raped him or his mother made him pleasure her. All he could think about was the blade he was working on his smithing gave him a foundation something to hold onto to keep sane.

Sparks flew as Mikael pounded the metal with his hammer folding it over on itself before beating it flat again his singed sketch clipped up to the dartboard he had placed as a notepad

Pattern welding was his current experiment his earlier works piled in a corner he worked to master the subtle art

Slowly over the next year and a half, the beatings and rapes grew more frequent his attitude to blame. While his anger and fury allowed him to become more focused in his work even in his agonies his mind now stayed clear focused and to a point removed from his body.

Once he had pattern welding down he focused on designs that are more elaborate. Finely he created a trio of elaborate and truly lethal blades.

The first was the wolf blade, a short dagger shaped like a silver wolf loping over ground. Where the nose of the wolf was the point its body forming the body of the blade the details of the blade, where not actually part of the metal, were acid etched and or welded on in a similar mater to leading car bodies. The wolf's eyes were droplets of 24 carrot pure gold, while the entire blade was multi-layered plating, nickel over the non-wolf blade parts and silver for the wolf itself. The bronze hilt was set with a carved garnet pommel.

The second of the blades was much more savage in nature. An open triangle of metal with out pointing guard blades gold covered steel was its manufacture. Razor sharp and designed solely for killing what it lacked it style it made up for in efficiency

The 3rd blade was functional small with clean lines and angles only a small ridge of serrations at 90 degrees from the blade, its hardened point, and the delicate rose vine engraving and hilt crafted from 18 carat cold In the shape of a rose showed the work that went into these weapons.

Smiling Mikael placed the blades into black velvet box happy with how his works had gone still the sun was setting and soon he would have to serve his parents dinner before he could eat.

This last time with the whiskey bottle and the casual rape by his father he would finally act.

Later that night after is father had gotten drunk and his mother had him pleasure her. He went to bed waiting for his parents to go to sleep his own anger burned hot within him

Tears streaming down his face as he contemplated his life and the choice he was making.

He ached and he felt ill, head pounding, stuffiness and tiredness had crept up on him the past few days but he put it down to the hours he had spent in the forge.

Silence from the room of his parents and the own anger in his heart told him if he ever was going to do anything now was the time.

Locking his money and silver and gold supplies in the little safe he had bought ages ago Mikael put on his slippers and snuck out to the forge recovering a small box before hustling back into the large house of his family

Pocketing one off the cordless phones dotted around the house Mikael tiptoed into his father and mothers bedroom listening to the sounds of their sated slumber. Placing the box on their multi thousand dollar dresser, he opened it his hands taking out two of the three blades.

Walking around to a position where he could move quickly at his fathers side with his mother at hand without even thinking anymore he pulled the triangle shaped dagger and thrust it deep into his fathers upper chest the blade slicing through the rib meat without stopping and implanting itself deep into his fathers heart, the open design of the blade slicing the heart itself without leaving a blockage of metal to stem the flow of blood.

His father screamed as the blade cut his flesh his mother stirred at this, as his wakening father vainly tried to pull the blade from his chest his face twisted in a rictus of pain and agony . Without giving his rousing mother a chance to respond Mikael's other hand slammed the other dagger into her own chest the hardened tip and serrations on the blade piercing her breastbone before lodging in her heart as well

Drawing the 3rd blade Mikael waited for his parents to quit gasping and groaning, as they died, his face emotionless despite the act he had done

As the whimpers of pain from his family ceased, he took the phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

The phone picked up quickly on the other end as pleasant sounding woman spoke

"911 Emergency how can I help you?" The operator spoke.

Taking a deep breath Mikael spoke, "My parents have just been murdered."

Taken aback at the information the woman replied

"I see medical and police will be on there way, I just need your name and your address and stay on the line everything will be ok."

"No I'm afraid it won't be goodbye." Mikael said as he hung up the phone

Before placing the 3rd blade between his knees and drawing his hands down both of its razor sharp edges

As his blood joined the blood soaking the bedding Mikael closed his eyes and hoped that maybe just maybe his next life wouldn't be hell...

End part one