Quick random drabble that I wrote instead of doing college work. I don't typically manage to finish most writing pieces so I figured I'd post this despite being a few months late to the 'God of War party. Enjoy :)


Atreus's breath suddenly sounded very loud in his ears, no matter how hard he tried to quiet himself. Despite his bow in his hand, despite being as silent as possible while convincing himself that he was simply hiding from a creature he was hunting…this wasn't hunting at all. Atreus himself was the prey, and the Stranger at the door was getting very, very agitated.

"Open up!" he was ordering in a sing-song voice, every beat of his fist rattling the house. "Last chance, I don't want to fight – oh, well, who am I kidding?! Of course I want to fight! Yet I'd prefer to look you in the eyes before I kill you!"

Atreus gulped, glancing around at the clearing in front of the house. He expected to see father burst through the trees, mother's frost axe in hand. No such thing happened, and Atreus realised that he was on this own, a murderous Stranger demanding his father's presence. What would father do? Atreus asked himself knowing he was going to have to bide his time before father returned. He'd go out and face him. He'd fight. I…I could fight, but I don't know if I'd beat this guy. I've got a bad feeling. He's stronger than he looks.

But…what else was there to do? Atreus had only just managed to squeeze through the gap between the earth and their home's floorboards; he'd almost gotten himself stuck as he'd wriggled out into the open, into a tiny wedge at the side of the house. He couldn't go back inside, he couldn't run without the man spotting him. Atreus tightened his grip on his bow, deciding.

I'd rather try to fight than cower like a baby.

His feet were light and silent on the frozen ground as he took a few steps forwards, until he emerged from the side of the house. His bow was ready, arrow in place, its tip pointed at the man's head when it finally came into sight. Atreus looked him over, now that he could-

Oh, he's much smaller than I thought he'd be. And he's got no weapons.

"What do you want?" Atreus demanded, trying to feel as brave as he sounded. The Stranger, amber eyes now trained on Atreus, took a few steps back from the door. A smile was brimming beneath his braided beard. "I said, what do you want?!"

"So the beast had an offspring…?" the Stranger muttered, ignoring Atreus's questions. "Interesting. I knew this would be fun, but…"

"Get out of here before I shoot you," said Atreus, pointing his arrow very briefly at the gate. His heart was beating faster with every second that passed, the Stranger so nonchalant – almost amused by the way his shoulders swayed. "You hear me? Go!"

"I heard you-," the man said, taking a step forwards. Atreus had no way to step back without retreating back into the tiny alcove he'd been in, cursing himself already for his tactical mistakes. "-I'd like to see you try, little boy. Go on. Shoot me,"

The thought of shooting the man was both terrifying and overwhelming, especially as he'd been invited to. The Stranger was a man, they were different to animals. Animals were food, it made killing them a necessity if they wanted to survive. The Stranger's here to hurt father, Atreus had to remind himself, clenching his jaw. He'll hurt me. This is survival, too, just in a different way.

Making his mind up, Atreus let loose the arrow. He closed his eyes and turned away as the tip went thunk into the man's skull. He waited, hearing father's voice in the back of his mind. Close your heart to it. He tried, though tears were already on the brink. The Stranger-

…The Stranger hadn't hit the ground. Atreus had heard the arrow hit its mark, of that he was sure.

Turning back around, Atreus felt his eyes widen in horror. The Stranger – the arrow had hit where he aimed alright, right in the centre of his forehead. But the Stranger was still standing, still smiling. He reached up, grasping the arrow's shaft and yanking it free from his skull. Blood and brain-puss oozed from the hole, which knitted itself back together good-as-new with a wince and a twitch from the otherwise-unfazed man. "How…?" Atreus breathed. Before he could think about it, he'd notched another arrow and fired that one, too. In his panic, his aim was off, and it hit the man's chest instead of his head. It barely knocked him back even a pace; the Stranger tore the arrow from his chest and examined it carefully, twirling it between his fingers.

"You want to try one more time, or shall we get down to business?" he invited, crushing the arrow swiftly in his fist. Atreus gaped. "No? Good,"

Oh man, oh man, Atreus thought, ducking under the first swing of a fist in his direction. It hit the side of the house instead, crushing the wooden pole rather than Atreus's head. Oh man! Gah, no! No – "Father!" Atreus shouted, desperate, trying to avoid the man's next swing. He wasn't quite as fast, didn't have quite as much room to work with, as the man's fist swung up and smashed the underside of Atreus's chin. His vision whited out; he staggered back, hitting the side of his home.

"Father," he heard repeated tauntingly overhead. "So, you are the beast's little boy, are you? Wasn't the best time to leave you home alone, was it? I wonder, will he come rushing to your aid or will he not care? There's only one good way to find out,"

Atreus threw himself to the side, rolling across the ground and just barely squeezing through the gap made by the side of the house and the man's outstretched hands. This was better – he was out in the open, he could move and try to escape. He'd lost his bow, dropping it when the punch had hit him. His jaw felt like it was on fire, blood filling his mouth. Don't lose focus, Atreus had to tell himself, watching as the man moved on him again.

He was trying to grab him, and he was faster than Atreus. Even when Atreus dove to the side, the Stranger grabbed hold of his legs – he yanked at his ankles, flipping him on to his back, grinning as he held one of Atreus's feet in the air in front of his face.

"Let me go!" Atreus roared, kicking his feet all he could, though he could barely even make the Stranger wobble with his efforts. Atreus could tell that this was a losing battle; this was an opponent that had come for his father, not for him, who was he to kid thinking that he could actually fight him. "Father!" Atreus tried again. "Father, help-!"

Atreus's cry was cut off by a scream torn from his own throat, agony suddenly engulfing his leg. The Stranger examined the ankle he'd caught in his grip, examining its now-broken state. "Was that loud enough for him to hear, you think?" he asked Atreus. He paused for a few seconds, Atreus's ragged, whimpering breaths filling the air. "Hmm, perhaps not. We must try again,"

"NO!" argued Atreus, crying with every movement of his leg. The Stranger let it drop and Atreus could finally back away – but he couldn't stand, there was no chance when his foot was broken. He tried to shuffle instead, using his arms and elbows, glancing behind him as if a weapon would suddenly appear. Oh, he remembered, reaching for his belt. He took his knife and raised it above his head, aimed for the soft spot at the top of the man's leg, where his thigh met his torso. In a flash, the knife was knocked out of Atreus's hands, and a boot hit his nose. He slumped back, bloody and exhausted and wondering where the Hel was father.

"I'll kill you," Atreus warned the man weakly, barely able to see him leering over him as his vision swayed and blurred. His lips smacked against the onslaught of blood now dripping from his nose, which felt very broken, just like his ankle. "I…I'll-,"

"Scream for me, little beast," the Stranger said, Atreus's own knife glinting between his fingertips. His face was suddenly very close, his beard tickling Atreus's face. "I need your daddy to pick up his pace – and something to kill time with while we wait,"

Atreus swung with his fists, beating the man's chest and shoulders. He reached for his face, for his eye-sockets like father had taught him when he'd first had to learn how to fight without weapons – those were his first lessons in combat, all self-defence, for occasions when his parents wouldn't be around to save him. Just like now. And it's all doing nothing!

"What should I break this time?" asked the Stranger, catching one of Atreus's fists. "A finger? An arm? I'll avoid your face, I'd hate to ruin it more than it is," he pinched Atreus's cheek, wiggling his head before delivering a sharp slap. Atreus grunted, biting back a whimper and an onslaught of curses. "The things that I could do to you, boy – it will be more fun than anything I could do with your father, of that I'm sure. But, alas, you are not why I am here,"

The Stranger punched Atreus again, this time in the stomach. Atreus coughed and wheezed as the breath was forced from his longs, forcing him to roll on his side, one arm still caught in the Stranger's grip. "S-Screw…" he managed to rasp. "You…"

Overhead, the Stranger was laughing. His hand released Atreus's, all fingers unbroken. Atreus flinched before another blow could even strike him, anticipating it would be another punch, another slap, maybe a kick to the ribs or-

He really hadn't expected it to be his own knife shove through his hand, pinning it to the Earth.

The pain was so intense, Atreus couldn't react. As if trapped in his own body, he wriggled and writhed even though he wanted to scream and lash out. He heard the sound of a little boy beginning to cry, refusing to believe that it could be him who sounded so weak and pitiful. A part of him was glad that father wasn't here – he didn't want him to see Atreus in such a pathetic position, completely and utterly overwhelmed by this man.

"I think I hear him coming," the Stranger told Atreus, close to his ear. "Hold still, little one, I'd like to get his blood really boiling by the time he arrives,"

Atreus didn't understand what he meant or what he was trying to achieve as the Stranger's hands moved to his back. They grasped the top of his tunic and tore through the fabric, following its seam all the way down, stripping it away until his back was exposed to the harsh winter winds. Atreus trembled, feeling the man's palms press flat against his skin, fluttering against Atreus's rapid breaths. He wanted to beat him, to stab him repeatedly, to cut his hands off so he'd stop touching him. But there was nothing that his ragged body could do, broken as it was, dazed was his mind. Nothing except cry a little more, his tears and blood providing some warmth to his rapidly-shivering body. "G-Get off-,"

And then, all of a sudden, the Stranger was overhead no more. He disappeared in a blur of red and grey, a delighted whoop and a familiar, terrifying roar echoing after them.

"Ah-ha! Finally!" Atreus heard the Stranger yell, sounding as jovial as before despite the sound of many things breaking following (what he assumed was) his father's arrival. "We've been waiting for you, beast man! Your boy's been asking for you, he-,"

His voice was cut off by yet another roar, by the sound of large fists pummelling flesh. Good, Atreus thought, letting his eyes slip shut. He took a quick inventory of injuries, as father had always told him to before passing out. Broken ankle, broken nose, knife through the hand. Lots of bruises, especially face and stomach. It didn't sound as bad when Atreus simply put it like that in his mind. It gave him the peace he needed to close his eyes, instinctively trusting that his father would take care of the Stranger while he slept. Hopefully my head's not broken and I'll wake up later…

Unfortunately, the peace didn't last for long enough. His vision soon came back to him; a hand grasping his hair, lifting his head from the floor. "Wakey, wakey," said the Stranger, pulling and pulling on Atreus's hair until he grunted and struggled. "You're missing the show, boy!"

"Father?" murmured Atreus, trying to look around. He couldn't see his father near, but he could feel him. His fury was causing the air itself to boil and bubble, until Atreus's blood felt cool in comparison. The ground felt as if it were trembling. "F-Fath-,"

Atreus's head dropped as the hand released his hair, switching instead to a foot against his throat. He gasped and writhed, his hand burning with each tiny movement that tugged along the blade impaling his flesh. In a way, the feeling of being choked wasn't much different to how Atreus had felt anyway. The pressure was uncomfortable, especially against the curve of his spine through his neck.

"Slow down, now!" the Stranger called to the trees ahead. "Or I'll break your little boy's neck, how's that? Come here, come look at him, you've hardly seen his face!"

Blinking, Atreus could see his father emerging from the trees. He could see that his grey skin was now more crimson than anything, glistening under the afternoon sun. He could see his shoulders heaving, his fists clenched, one of them holding mom's axe. "Let. Him. Go," father growled at the Stranger. "Your quarrel is with me, not the boy,"

"Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy our playing," said the Stranger, toes curling against Atreus's throat. His breath, just barely squeezing through his windpipe, hitched and shuddered uncomfortably. "But this is so entertaining, too. I find it quite precious, how delicate the lives of children are; how easily their innocence can be lost. It wouldn't take much for me to break him, you know,"

Kratos grunted, the axe in his hand flaring with a rush of frost as it lifted into the air. The Stranger began to cackle, his foot pressing down harder. Suddenly, Atreus couldn't breathe at all. His mouth opened and closed helplessly, his free hand scrabbling at the Stranger's skinny ankle, nails raking lines down his impenetrable skin. It had no effect on the Stranger, who rested all of his weight on to his foot as he dropped into a crouch over Atreus's body.

"I can see you holding yourself together," he taunted. Distantly, as Atreus felt himself fading, he felt fingertips trailing up and down his bare back. He felt himself shudder, felt his mouth move in the shape of the word 'father' – again and again, switching through all of the languages he knew. The Stranger's voice became the only thing that Atreus could hear after a few moments. "Let it go, beast man. Lunge at me. We'll see together how rapidly I can end him. When I'm done with you, I'll come back for his body. My kin and I will see that it is taken care of, don't you worry,"

Atreus's eyes slipped shut, just as his father was engulfed in flames. Atreus couldn't hear his animalistic war-cry, but he felt it, reverberating through the earth. Atreus pressed his palms down into the soil the best he could, feeling, wondering whether the last sensation he was ever going to feel was really going to be his father's rage.

At least it's not directed at me. Small miracles.

At least I've not been apart from mom too long. Maybe she's waiting for me.

I hope the Stranger doesn't really take my body away. I hope father kills him, and then I can kill him again when we meet in Hel. I don't think this kind of death will send me to Valhalla.

Oh…That means father won't be happy, either. I mean, he probably won't be happy if I die at all, I don't think. But he'll be even unhappier if this is how it ends. I barely did anything, I just let myself get beat up, let the Stranger stand on my neck – that's such a stupid way to die.

Now that I think about it, I'm sure mom won't mind waiting for me. She'd probably be pretty mad if this is how I died, too. Maybe I should open my eyes…

I don't know how to open my eyes, though. How can I forget that? It's so easy, just…open.

Ah, boy. Trying not to die is hard. Who'd have thought.

Okay, so, don't open my eyes just yet. I can't because my body's not awake. It's – oh, it's not breathing. Yeah, that's probably the problem.

I should really try to breathe again. The Stranger isn't above me anymore. The ground, it's shaking, and father was on fire. Hopefully it's going bad for the Stranger and good for father. Either way, there's nothing stopping me from breathing now.

It'd help if my body didn't hurt so much. I don't want to be back there to have to deal with the pain. It's quite nice here, floating…

No, wait, stop it. Focus. Breathe. There's stuff I need to do.

We need to take mom's ashes to the highest peak in the realm. I need to prove to father that I'm ready. I need to stop being so weak. That's a lot of stuff to do. Important stuff. So…I think I can handle the pain. I have to. For mom and dad.

Man, if I wake up and the Stranger beat father, that'd suck. All this effort would be for nothing…

Good job that would never happen, then. Father's the strongest person ever.

And with that, Atreus opened his eyes. His hand, the one without a knife stabbed through it, spasmed against the dirt. His chest heaved and stuttered, agony rippling through him with every breath, but at least he could be certain of one thing: the Earth had stilled once more. And-

"Atreus?!" father's voice called. "Atreus!"


A bit rough around the edges, I'm pretty tired but wanted to get this out while I could.

Baldur's freaky and gross, I wanted him to royally piss off Kratos without killing or totally mutilating Atreus. He's done enough to leave a lasting impression, I think, maybe. This is probably a little OOC.

Second chapter soon. Thank you :)