
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1968501.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Fandom:
      Team_Fortress_2
  Relationship:
      No_Romantic_Relationship(s)
  Character:
      Medic_(Team_Fortress_2)
  Additional Tags:
      Past_Sexual_Abuse, Child_Abuse, Gore, Blood_and_Gore, Revenge, Medic_was
      terrifying_as_a_child, this_is_not_a_nice_story, No_Romance, Implied
      Childhood_Sexual_Abuse, Bullying, Mental_Instability, Mental_Health
      Issues, Dissociative_Identity_Disorder, Horror, Slurs, Attempted_Murder
  Series:
      Part 1 of Night_of_the_Living_Prompt
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-16 Words: 1054
****** Bitter Cruelty ******
by PriestGuts
Summary
     Prompt: Child!Medic gets revenge on someone who has bullied him.
     ALTERNATE TITLE: "The First Time Medic got Blood on his Hands"
     (this one has TWO pieces of artwork~)
Notes
     I apologize in advance for this. I tend to go overboard when writing
     horror and this isn't really a very nice concept to begin with.
See the end of the work for more notes
     Medic sighed as he sat, along, on a swing, young legs not being quite long
enough to allow his feet to touch the ground. He’d been there for nearly two
hours at this point, having run away from his house to avoid his father’s
drunken rage. He was used to having to escape at this point, but that didn’t
make it any easier for the elven year old child.   It was really starting to
put a strain on his young mind.
 
     Being deep in through, mind racing over all the possible outcomes of what
would happen when he went home, Medic didn’t notice the approaching footsteps
and whispers until it was too late. He found himself on the ground, too big
glasses becoming slightly askew across his slim face.
 
     “Hey freak!” a child, who was probably three or four years older than
himself, and twice the size, goaded. “Where’s your mommy today? Oh wait…I
forgot. She’s dead, isn’t she?” the teen laughed, seeming far too pleased with
himself. Medic, being all too familiar with situations like this, simply sat up
and fixed his glasses so that he could see properly again, not saying anything
as to not encourage the older boy. “Hey retard! I’m talking to you!” the teen
yelled, punching Medic in his shoulder.
 
     Medic hissed, but kept ignoring him, brushing the dirt off of his socks
and shorts until there was suddenly a searing pain in his jaw when the other
boy punched him again. This time Medic glared up at the boy as he rubbed his
jaw, never having taken well to being hit, especially when the hitting involved
his face.
 
     “Stay down, freak, if you know what’s good for you! Maybe when you go
home, your faggot father will make everything okay!” the boy yelled before
spitting at Medic’s feet.
 
   Medic didn’t even register the spitting though. His ears were ringing and
his head was pounding. There were whispers in the back of his skull and he
suddenly felt compelled to followed their every suggestion.
 
     ‘Kill him…’ one voiced cooed. ‘Make him hurt! Make him bleed! He knows
everything and he’s going to tell everyone. You have to stop him…’
 
     At the voices’ command, Medic found himself standing against his own
accord, no longer feeling as though he had control of his own body. He felt
angry, scared and exhilarated all at the same time. He felt as though he were
only watching himself follow the older boy instead of actually doing it; didn’t
feel as though he was the one pulling out his pocket knife as he followed the
boy into the woods and away from the town.
 
     He felt as though his mind and body have completely separate entities at
this point. But, he could still feel the pounding in his jaw and head; still
hear the voices encouraging him as he walked along the grassy path.
 
     The throbbing in his skull got worse and worse until he suddenly could not
stand it any more. As quickly and quietly as he could, he approached the elder
boy and tapped his shoulder. The second that the teenage turned around, Medic
slashed the blade in his left hand across his face, a spray of blood hitting
his jacket as the boy screamed in pain.
 
     “You…know too much,” Medic found himself saying, though he could hardly
recognize the voice as his own. “And now…I have to kill you.”
 
     “No! Please, I-“ the boy cried out again when Medic swung the blade again,
this time across the boy’s shoulder, tearing through fabric and flesh alike.
“Please stop! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he screamed, trying to get away from
the blood splattered eleven year old.
 
     ‘No, he’s not…’ purred the voices in his head.
 
     “No, you’re not,” Medic parroted vocally. “If I let you go, you’d go tell
everyone my secret. You’d do this again. Maybe not to me, but to someone that
you think is defenseless. No…I’m afraid…that you’re just going to have to die,”
he rasped, finding it hard to keep talking.
 
     “No! I’ll do anything! I’ll do anything you want!” the larger boy sobbed,
tears running down his pudgy face as the unmistakable smell of urine pierced
through the air.
 
     Medic wrinkled his nose at the smell, lips curling back over his tidy
teeth into a condescending sneer. “Disgusting…” he mumbled as he stepped
closer.
 
     Blinking through the blood and the tears, the boy finally got a good look
at Medic’s face and felt a cold wave of sheer terror pass through him. There
was absolutely nothing in the child’s eyes. The seafoam orbs were blank,
staring endlessly right through whatever they gazed at. “You’re not even
human!” the boy screamed, eyes widening when he saw Medic raise the hand
wielding the blade again, clearly meaning to strike him down for good this
time.
 
     But suddenly, his hand stilled when he heard a rustling in the woods. As
quick as lightning, Medic had his hand wrapped around the boy’s throat and
leaned in close to whisper. “You’re not going to say a word of this to anyone.
Ever. If you do…I will know and I will come back to finish what I started
today. Do you understand? Just nod.” When the boy nodded, Medic released his
throat. “Good. Now, don’t move or make a sound until I am gone…”
 
     The boy only whimpered in response as Medic fled through the trees,
slipping off his jacket, which had thankfully kept the rest of his clothing
from getting bloody and used it to wipe most of the blood off of his face. When
he entered his home, he let loose a sigh of relief to find his jacket into a
load of clothes to be washed, hoping that the blood wouldn’t stain the thick,
dark wool.
 
     Looking himself over in the mirror to make sure that he had gotten all of
the blood off, Medic noticed that the searing headache was gone and that his
ears were no longer ringing. He sighed quietly again as he thought to himself.
He had just almost killed that boy. Shouldn’t he feel guilty? The crooning
voices in the back of his head said that he shouldn’t. He figured he should
believe them; they sounded so nice after all.
End Notes
     First drawing of Child!Medic is by http://www.Alphametics.tumblr.com~
     Second Picture of Child!Medic is my own~
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