Atrición's Planned Holiday

Author's note: These characters are from another series of stories that I am working on; hopefully, the context won't lead to too much confusion. Also, a fair warning of sexual violence as well as regular (and irregular) violence.

Birth. Childhood. Life itself. All of these, and what was to follow, were struggles for any normal human being. Atrición envied those normal human beings. For starters, their parents weren't trying to kill him under the semblance of training. That is, when they weren't arguing, killing people, or banging around the room in coitus.

His father, Amalgamous, was the bastard result of one Martina Shelly and one Doctor Rothrock Raxis, and was the world's first experimental shapeshifter. However, this power came with two different costs; one was the need to take the abilities of any living creature via consumption of the heart, and the other was in an over-obsession with garnering said powers, resulting in a monstrous transformation that only subsided with either subjugation or attainment. Atrición gained the ability to rapidly self-heal from Amalgomous, though he could not shape-shift.

His mother, Brainchild, was the world's first hybrid of telepathy and telekinesis. Weeks after her release, she managed to control an entire army at the age of five, and sought to locate other like her, which was where she found Amalgamous as he was feasting on his mother's corpse. Though powerful, she found that she couldn't control him like the rest, but she could convince him to follow her. What would come next was her founding a subnation of an island and its underwater base, dubbed "Inundate" (how creative). Here, she would cultivate her own army with Amalgamous by her side, and young Atrición was to be their progeny, their prodigy, their future general or some bullshit like that. Given how she was able to ride out defeats in the field as well as ride out her sexual appetites with Amalgamous, Atrición attributed his fast-replenishing stamina from her genes.

And as for Atrición...

He could heal fast, recover fast, and didn't need to sleep if he didn't want to (though he loved to dream). This was a wonder of humanity, yet he was trained heavily, encouraged to try and escape just to be hunted down and brought back, punished heavily to not fear pain nor weaponry nor even things like fire burning the skin, or being nearly frozen multiple times, or even dips in acid. His father recommended being swallowed whole by a large predator, like a sperm whale, but Brainchild turned down the idea as that was "too extreme".

Atrición hated irony. In most cases, it was a mockery.

"Wake up!"

A large foot pushed into his ribs and sent him to the opposite side of his bed; the immediate training had him land on all fours rather than his face, and he rose up quickly to face his nemesis; his father, the monster Amalgamous. The seven-foot four-inch tall behemoth looked down upon the young man of eleven years, appearing unusually happy. Quickly shaking whatever little sleep clung to him, Atrición drilled into his father with furious eyes. "What the hell, father?"

"Not this time, son," Amalgamous responded, "as your mother has planned a heaven of sorts today. Dress up and be downstairs in five minutes...if you still want breakfast."

Atrición certainly wanted breakfast, and was down the stairs in four minutes, dressed semi-casually at a speed he had practiced for. Already, Brainchild was pouring herself juice using her mind while Amalgamous started in on a giant omelet. One of Brainchild's agents came to pull Atrición's chair, but he held up his hand. "I can get the chair myself, thank you."

"Good morning, son", Brainchild gently cooed, her six-foot four-inch frame shifting slightly in an emotional combination of anticipation and tranquility - not the best combination for someone of her abilities, but she was trying her best. Clearly, she wanted whatever this was for a long time. But what was it, he wondered?

"War, dear. That's what I want."

Oh, he thought, she reads minds. Damn.

"Language, young man. Save it for the next year. But yes, that is what this morning meeting is all about. Well, aside from the breakfast." At this, she looked to Amalgamous, who looked back at her with a hint of defiance. Atrición cringed; they hated and loved each other, it was confusing and even disturbing. He tried to shut that thought out, but Brainchild already knew. "Our relationship shouldn't be something for you to worry about, son. What you should be asking is...why?"

Atrición received a plate of buttered toast, completed with guacamole on top of a steak and ham with melted cheese in the middle, complimented with a few celery stalks and a glass of pomegranate juice - a preference even more beloved by him when he found out that his mother couldn't stand the taste. His father, on the other hand, hated the celery as such got stuck in his sharpened teeth, all the more for Atrición to enjoy. Not wanting to aggravate either, he ate and drank quietly, listening to what would come next. "All right," he asked, "why do you want to find this...whoever?"

"Whomever", corrected Amalgamous, surprising even Brainchild. The brute was no pushover nor obtuse, no doubt having actually listened to his wife as his teacher in the matters of spelling amongst other subjects besides violence. "This particular person is one of the last members outside of your mother's control who, for lack of a better description, is the reason for our existence. This person also holds the details of our weaknesses. Luckily," and here Amalgamous smirked as he wiped his mouth, "my enhanced senses have tracked his last whereabouts somewhere in France."

"Whereas my enhanced brainpower," interrupted Brainchild, giving her own smirk, "places him directly in Paris. Figures that he would run to a major city and think himself safe, especially in a place that was fortunate to not have been invaded again during the Third World War." She looked back to her waffles as Amalgamous rolled his own eyes; the competition of mind over matter was literal with these two, and Atrición waged on them offing each other together in a poetic scenery; it might as well be in the City of Light. "Regardless," Brainchild continued with a look of intrigue at her son's thought of his parents' demise, "we are going there to not just find him, but find some relief there. You know, relax from the grind. You could use the rest, son, you almost die in training every day."

This time, Atrición suppressed his thoughts properly as opposed to a quiet comeback, and merely nodded in agreement. A vacation would be nice, but one that had business with pleasure?

Brainchild scoffed. "Necessity, silly boy, not business! We're not going to kidnap him like we did with these servants, we're just assassinating the last of the former government's self-made madmen. I mean, we have enough of that just here!" She was baiting Amalgamous, but he was focusing on his protein rather than her words. A healthier choice, though she pouted in his lack of a reaction.

"We're assassins now?" inquired Atrición.

He was almost finished with his plate when his chair suddenly slid around his end of the table and was pulled all the way to his mother's right side, where she looked down upon him with bemusement. Damned telekinesis! Or, in this case, psycho-kinesis!

"Clever wordplay, son," snorted Brainchild. "And we have always been assassins."

Atrición didn't hide his confusion. "But, aside from the occasional servant, the only people you and Dad killed were the soldiers who tried to come here."

"True, we had to keep this little corner of our haven safe from the world. To keep you safe. See, other madmen would send their little tin toys after us, and we would take care of them...more or less, we do need new servants now and then. But, in turn, your father and I would retaliate and hunt down the one barking out the orders."

Amalgamous belched and then wiped his mouth before picking up where his wife left off: "Cut the head off of the snake, the body dies. And we got good at locating the heads, boy." He then hoisted himself up and walked around to stand in front of his son. "Your mother and I discussed the matter of how to handle this final stain in our history, and we ended up agreeing that another should commit the wetwork. What better way to handle the remnant of the past than with the hope of the future?" When Atrición continued looking confused, Amalgamous sighed and leaned forward: "You're going to do it."

"M...me?"

Amalgamous nodded. "And when you are done, we will enjoy our stay in Paris as one big happy family. That is, if you don't screw up." Amalgamous laid his hand on his son's shoulder, and he seemed like a different person, like a loving father. "You are ready for this, boy, I know you are. If you can survive me, your mother, and the random soldiers that come knocking on our door for a bullet to our skulls, you can pull off the greatest hunt of your life."

This was, indeed, an important meeting.

"Yes," responded Brainchild, her own hand gripping his opposite shoulder, "it is." She pulled him in close, hugging him firmly but gently, and whispered, "Oh, and those servants? Totally accidental."