Prologue 1: World of Dogs

(Author's Note): In the original, the prologues were auxiliary chapters but became vital to the plot. So I'm just setting them to actual chapters; sorry if you don't like prologues. ;) PS: I'm an atheist.

The early stages of Derek McCoy's life were far from perfect, far from hell; in a way, he flew closer to the sun than the water. You could say something inside of his father broke somewhere when raising Derek and his brother Carl. More accurately, something resurged inside of him. That trapped him in one place, unable to escape, like a dog on a chain. 

Some days, he was akin to a wild bird, like he could fly away and do anything in the world. But, the moment he tried to soar, his chains pulled him back to earth, and he would land with the sorrow and anger of a fallen angel. He'd feel as if the lord had forsaken him by giving him such horrible, horrible children, such horrible opportunities, and such a horrible life.

"Oh why, oh why, can't these children be good little boys and do as I say." He would say something of the like every time he found something wrong with their grades, their actions, or their inaction. Then, beat them into shape as he would think.

Even like this, the phrase, "Parents are the world to their children," still applies. To a child, their world is everything they can do, everywhere they can go. But that is ultimately controlled by what their parents allow them to do and go. Using "rules," parents would constrict their children's world to a box for better or worse. But, to Derek and Carl, this box was a labyrinth of inescapable pain and suffering. That was constantly warping due to their father's uncontrollable self-righteous thoughts.

With the duo constantly changing schools, they either stopped trying to make friends altogether or never got emotionally invested. All they ever had was each other. 

Once Derek had grown to the point of a Freshman, a new hell opened its doors for him. Some rowdy students, one grade above him, decided he'd be the one they derived satisfaction from. What they lacked in kindness, they made up for in cruelty. He'd come home with a different set of scabs than what he left with. When Derek couldn't take it anymore, he looked for anyone willing to take action against the injustice done to himself. Derek almost wondered if he were a literal joke spoken from a comedian's mouth, as no one would take what he said seriously.

When his father got wind of his pleas, he recited his woes and proceeded to beat his oldest son, saying, 

"To think I had such a useless son, incapable of doing anything himself, always crying to the nearest hand and asking for food. You should have known better than to think someone would help you solve your problems."

As the saying goes, "When one stares at the abyss, the abyss looks back." Derek couldn't help but contort his mind with his father's cruel thoughts. 

He slowly transformed into a monster with no mind left to salvage; today was merely a step on that road. Whether he'd walk halfway there and then change his mind or take the final step. That is for time to tell.

Despite Derek's scorn for his father, he follows his advice and is determined to learn the martial art of Krav Maga to "solve his problems." In some twisted and unknowable way, his father saw this as a new path for Derek to become a real man. Albeit, if he were to give up, there would be hell to pay.

With both worlds of his life collapsing beside him, he had nowhere to go but forward. He worked harder than he ever did in his life. The martial arts classes started before the sun rose, and he woke up two hours earlier to work out secretly to his heart's content.

(Authors Note: Jiu Jistu is only good 1v1, plus I can't have my mc hugging his enemies.)

Krav Maga was an excellent choice; its earliest stages harnessed the ability to act instinctively to any unexpected threat. While teaching good stance and how to throw a punch, something Derek desperately needed to know. More importantly, His Mentors would teach any method of stopping fights, even the "unsavory" ones. They saved Derek the time and effort of inventing them and prevented him from looking like a maniac while practicing them.

Although Derek didn't come to Krav Maga with much in mind, he soon was able to strike with every strand of his body. If he were to attack and not hit anything, he would stretch out his muscles and hurt himself.

For months, Derek rolled with the punches, sharpening his claws. His responses became more defiant and more confident. Derek would strike at the perfect moment, never before. That is one thing that never changed about him.

Once his confidence reached the absolute peak, when a shadow of a doubt was missing, He struck. He hurt their fragile egos in ways other Freshmen thought impossible. It wasn't hard; he had a lot of time to think when he got beaten up or treated like shit. All he had to do was memorize what got them the most riled up.

When they reached the tipping point, he would hide behind the teacher's shadow like a coward. Once his work was at its "magnum opus," he baited them into fighting like men in a dark alleyway. But they didn't know he studied it, and that alleyway had no cameras. 

They cursed like sailors and agreed to meet on the dot.

One said, "What a F*cking idiot; does he think he can take all of us on?"

Another said, "I bet he is bringing some kind of pipe or bat and thinks it's enough to beat us up."

The third said, "I'm going to give him a good beating for all that shit he said."

They weren't wrong about the bat, but that wasn't what he would be using it for.

Even with all of their confidence, they still couldn't help but wonder why someone would be so crazy as to try and fight all three of them. So when they came to fight, they brought two more as insurance.

(Authors Note: Fair warning, I'll be numbering the "bad guys.")

Derek stood at the back of the alley with a dark expression. As the five slowly made their way inside. Even with Derek's newly found combat ability, he was far from sure he could fight three, nonetheless five.

As they walked in, the first two were too focused on him to see the tripwire he had set. They fell quickly to the ground, and the second Derek saw this, he rushed in and hit both of them on the head as hard as he could with the steel pipe he found, knocking them both out before they could stand back up. The other three rushed in, stepping over their fallen comrades.

He had set the dumpsters in the back of the alley to be closer to the center of the path, Forcing them to either waste time climbing the dumpster or face him in a 1v1. Three and Four rushed forward while Five climbed the dumpster. When he was about to strike with the pipe, Three quickly put up his guard to defend, but Derek let go of the pipe and gave him his swiftest punch to the face. When his attack landed, Derek punched his liver and did a swift kick to the crotch, and when he bent over from the pain, a hard elbow to the chin knocked him out. 

Derek pushed Three to his compatriot Four, slowing him down, then grabbed the leg of Five, who was on the dumpster, before he could bend down to hit him. Derek threw Five against the ground. Derek picked up the steel pipe and beat Four to a pulp. Four was still trying to move Three out of the way and couldn't defend himself.

When Derek finally managed to subdue all of them, he tied them up and then began to hit them over and over again with the crowbar. Derek was no fool. He knew exactly how bad what he was doing was, but he couldn't help himself from smiling like a little kid. Every scream they managed to make only served to bring him more joy. However, Derek was far from the type who'd want to kill punks like these. He wasn't above giving them a little pain.

At this moment, Derek felt like a blacksmith because he gave every part of their bodies, save for their heads and crotches, a bruise, Like how a blacksmith would hit every part of the sword he was forging. He hit almost every part of their body. Derek wasn't so stupid to leave lasting damage on any of these teens. He was kind enough to leave out places other people could see, just like his father did to him. All he wanted was to leave a mental scar on these punks. One they would never forget.

Once he finished, he rearranged them into a position that made it look like they were all "cuddling" and then took a few pictures, which looked realistic because the bruises hadn't set in yet. 

He finally Splashed them with water, sent a few pictures he took to their phones, and then said, "Alright, Backstreet Boys, this has been fun, and if you ever think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure everyone you know has even more fun looking at the pictures I just sent to all of you,"

and then Derek walked away as if nothing ever happened.

They were all in so much pain; they didn't even say anything and just watched him walk away.