This are is actually mine! No shading we die like men.
( Its crappy I know but just- except it pls )
If a certain amazing someone is ok with it, I'll post THEIR art depicting this character in the chapter.
It be Toby~

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     ( MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS!! There are major hints and depictions of child abuse! While he isn't hurt here, It is heavily hinted at that he is hurt by his parents, specifically with the buckle of his own belt. Please be careful if this stuff can trigger you! )

Toby was so young, too young to truly understand what was going on. What was happening, but he could understand one thing, one thing out of it all.
He felt pain. So often, too often. More times than someone his age ever should have. He didn't want to anymore, didn't want to feel the spreading pain of a punch. The sting of a belt, of the buckle. The white-hot flare from a still-burning cigarette. It seemed to never end. As a bruise would heal, another was added. When a cut would begin to finally seal up, another would take its place.

Mom and dad say he deserves it. He took their youth from them. Ended their fun and free life-style. He was useless, too needy. Couldn't do anything right. Too slow. He couldn't act like a real man. Never got good enough grades. Cried too much. They were teaching him how to be good enough. Punishing him for being so worthless.
Tony believes them. Every horrid insult. Every little thing they've ever said, he takes it to heart. And he's tried. Tried so hard to be better.
But he never can. He can never seem to do anything right. Can never make them proud...

I mean, sure. He could do better at school. He could smile more. Make friends. Get help. But... But, he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone else. He doesn't want to be hurt anymore, as selfish as he sounds. He's never hurt anyone. Ok, he's been rude before, yelled at people, cursed at them to drive them away. But he's never attacked, never. He doesn't want anyone to feel the pain he does.
This is how it's been for years..
Now, he's fifteen. A teenager. Its been going on since he was right.

He was such a sweet little boy, cute too. Fluffy black hair, shocking Amber eyes, with cute freckles dotting his face, always wearing over-sized sweaters.
You know the type.
Now, his style has changed.
He's let his hair grow to the middle of his neck, dying the tips a blood red. His eyes, once bright, pierce right through you.
He wears a jean jacket, with cotton sleeves and hood. A personalized, sewed on skull patch on a pocket on his hoodie.
He likes it. His parents best him bloody for 'messing up the jacket they bought.' and for 'ruining his hair'
First off, HE bought the jacket with HIS own money. Second, why should they care if he messes up his hair?

He'd come home from a long day at school. He walked up his cracked drive-way, surrounded by dry, yellow grass.
He'd opened the door. The handle lightly rusted, the door old, it's chipped blue paint being the most colorful part of his home.
His parents were there, right when he opened the door. That always meant trouble.
And pain.

Toby gulps, closing the door behind him. He fiddles with the ends of his sleeves. His parents glare, as they always do. He doesn't think he's ever seen then smile...
" We got a call from your school. " His mother says. Malicious, angry and disappointed. He flinches at that, and looks down.
" Care to explain? " His father asks, his tone matching his mother's.

Toby whimpers quietly, now twisting his sleeves.
" I-I- "
" Spit it out! "
He chokes back the sob that wants to escape. It will only make them angrier.
" I'm-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to start a fight, honest! " He says, desperation in his tone. He really hadn't! But they wouldn't leave that poor kid alone, and he just... He just couldn't let them keep hurting the guy!

He hears a 'tsk' from his mother. His breath hitches when her hand comes in to view of his drooped down vision.
" Belt. Now. "
Toby's lip starts to tremble. He reaches down with shakey hands, and slowly undoes the buckle of his own belt. He cringes when he hears a huff of impatience, so he quickly slips the belt through the loops of his jeans, before holding it out.

He has to choke back another sob when his father snatches the belt from his hand, instead of his mother like he thought she would. It's always so much worse when his dad punishes him.
" Turn around and take your shirt off. Your getting thirty with the buckle. "
Toby freezes at that. No, no, God please no! He can't take that, not today, not now, they already used the buckle yesterday! His back isn't healed yet, he ca-
"  I told you, turn around, and take your shirt off! " He dad says at a yell and steps forward to grip his shoulder.

Toby lets out a cry, as he jerks his shoulder away.
He sees his father's face morph into shock, then rage. With dawning horror, he realizes what he did.
He's not allowed to fight back. Not allowed not allowed not allowed-
He sees his father reach for him again, then bolts.
He runs past them, ignoring their screaming and yelling. Runs through the living room, down a hallway, and to his little room. He closes the door, quickly, then slides down it, pressing his weight against the door.

He can hear the raddling of his door handle, feel them banging and pushing to open his door. They're both screaming at him, telling him to open the door. Demanding him. He can hear them adding on to his punishment, how black and blue they're going to make him. They'll make him wish he was never born.
Jokes on them, he already does.
Toby sinks his teeth into his lip and finally lets out his sobs.

One particularly loud bang makes him bite his lip harder. He cringes when he feels his lip split, and feels the thick liquid slowly drip down, mixing with the salty drops of tears.

Then he hears movement. Rustling, scraping. Toby jerks his head up. Over the repetitive banging, and screaming, he heard... He could have sworn he heard-
There it is again! Where's it coming from? He's whipping his head around, his already running adrenaline pumping out tenfold. When he sees it.
A clawed hand. Grey, thin, long. Reaching out from under the bed. Grabbing the bottom of it, and slowly lifting it up.

A figure emerges. It matches the hand. Grey, thin, humanoid yet much too tall and thin. Skeletal. He remembers it. Remembers it so well, yet he thought it was just a part of his imagination.
Axel feels his breath hitch. His room is ten feet tall, from the roof to the floor. And yet the creature had to hunch just to stand. How did it fit under there?
It drops the bed the few feet it lifted it, making a loud 'Thump!' Sound. So easily heard over the noises caused by his parents.

Toby jerks at the thump. They don't stop. It's getting harder to hold them back. The creature's face... There's no hair. Eyes, but pitch black. He can't see a nose, but it has a mouth. A thin line, almost looking like a rip across its face, stretching too far from one side of their face to the other. If it has ears... Well, they must be two holes on the side of its head. Because he can't see them.
The creature stares at him for a moment. Watches as tears and blood drip down his face, off his chin. As he trembles, stares back with wide eyes.

Then it moves. Slowly, almost dragging its clawed feet. " No... " Toby mumbles, as it gets closer, slowly closer.
" Please, please don't! Please, don't hurt- " He lets out a quiet, squeaked out whimper when the creature stops. Toby bites his lip again, more blood gushes out as his lip rips open more. He clenches his eyes shut when it slowly starts to get down on one knee.
He can't open his eyes. Toby can't, he can't. He doesn't want to see what it'll do to him. How it will tear him apart. What it-

Then it's hand is on his shoulder. A loud sob rips from his throat, as he flinches and tries to sink down into himself. Then there's pressure. It's not gripping him, not painful. It's pushing. Slowly pushing him away from the door. His eyes flick open, head jerking up in his panic.
" No, wait! Please don't, don't let them in, please! " God is he more scared of his own parents..?

Toby tries to scramble back to his original spot, to fight against the creature's hand, but he can't. The pushing pressure doesn't stop. How can it be so strong? Finally, after a few minutes of struggling, another sob escapes as he goes limp.
As he gives up. After so many years... He finally gives up.
Then he hears the door burst open. The first stomps into the room, yelling.
He doesn't hear what they were going to say. Their screaming now. Not in anger, but terror. " What-What are-?! "

His mother, the one to speak first, is interrupted by her own, terrified yelp. Toby, his head was previously slumped, jerks his head up. He sees the look of horror on his mom's face, his father's. There are four long, bloody scratch marks reaching from one side of her face to the other.
He watches his parents stumble back. He hears his buckle 'clink' when it hits the floor after his father drops it.
He sees the creature follow after them, much faster than before.
Toby hears his parent's petrified yells, the thumps of their footsteps. The loud clacking and scraping sounds of the creature's claws.
He's frozen.

Then there's a crack. A sickening snap, then her yells turn in to watery gurgles, then silence.
He hears his father fighting back until soon any noise he makes become broken gurgle's as well.
Toby can't hear them anymore. Should he be upset or relieved?
After a pause of silence, he can hear the creatures scrapping claws again. A lump forms in his throat. Oh no...
Axel stands up on shaky legs and stumbles his way to his nearby closet.

He hurriedly grabs the handle of the door, jerks it open, and closes it behind him as he runs in.
He's breathing heavily, shakily. Toby sinks down to the floor, and pulls his knees to his chest.. The scrapping is getting closer. It's in his doorway.
He quickly wraps both hands around his mouth, desperate to quiet his own sounds.
There's silence.
Then there's the scraping sound again. Getting closer, closer, until it stops in front of his closet door.

He watches the handle slowly turn before he buries his head down into his knees. God, please no. Please, no...
There's no movement. He doesn't hear anything, besides his own quieted, hyperventilated breaths. He's scared, he doesn't want to die like this!
Axel yelps loudly when he feels one of the monster's boney hands on his back. The other going under his knees.
Then he's being lifted up.

Toby's first instinct is to struggle, and he does. He twists and turns and kicks, whimpering out panicked pleads.
" Please don't, please! I... I don't want to die, I don't want to die yet, not like this, please- "
" Little one... "
And he freezes again. How many times tonight has his mind just gone... blank?
The voice is raspy, glitchy even. He slowly peeks up, uneasily, shakey still. Tears still falling, blood streaks dried up from before.

The creature stares down at him. It's quiet again, for a moment, before continuing. " I'm sorry little one. I didn't protect you, for all these years. I'm here now, I will protect you now. I promise. "
Then they're moving, towards his bed. It gently shifts him around so the creature can hold him in one arm now, before lifting his bed up. Slowly. It moves, and Toby gasps when they go through the floor. He hears a strange noise as they go through, one he can only describe as a weird morphing sound. What you would imagine as you stepped through a portal. And, he guesses, that's exactly what he's doing.

It's dark. It takes him a moment to adjust to the lighting. Toby grips tightly on to the creature's arm, the one holding him up. Please don't drop him. Please, please, please!
Their on-top of a winding staircase. Toby feels a hand on his back. He cringes away from him, a quiet noise escaping his throat, only making him tense up again. Crap, what did he do? Would the monster get mad at him, like his parents? He didn't mean it! The creature touched his back, his bruises, it hurt. He didn't mean to-

He feels the hand on the back of his head now instead, gently cupping it, as it starts to ascend the staircase. His busted lip trembles as they move.
Why did the monster take him, bring him here? Why did it kill his parents, protect him? Why...
It said it would protect him now. That, it just didn't compute to him. Why would it want to protect him? It couldn't possibly want to, no one's ever wanted to protect him before. Sure, teachers have been concerned before, but no one's ever wanted keep him safe. Not like most ever thought he needed protection...

He's snapped out of his thoughts when the monster stops and gently sets him down. What..?
He takes a hurried look around. It's dim, Christmas lights the only thing illuminating the area. There are so many other staircases, signs he can't read. Other monsters stare, as others continue on their way. They're off to the side, thank God.

He starts to hyperventilate because of their stares. Breathe, breathe, he needs to breathe! Why are they staring? Can't they just keep walking?
Please?
He drops his head down, another quiet whimper escaping him. He's so confused and scared, lightheaded, and, and...
He feels the creature's hands on his shoulders. They completely overlap them, making him feel so much smaller. So much weaker. It makes him tremble at all the horrible things it could do to him. He wouldn't be able to fight back. No one would care, no one would find him, if they even bother to look.

Toby jerks his head up. He can feel his legs shaking. He doesn't think he can hold himself up for long. The monster is down on one knee, yet it still towers over him. It's staring at him with those black orbs. His lip still trembles, as his hands anxiously, unconsciously, tug and twist at his sleeves.
" Little one. " He hears the monster say. " I need you to calm down. Take deep breathes. In and out. Breath in. "

Toby takes a deep breath in, choking slightly on the air he forces into his lungs.
" Breath out. Careful, don't choke. "
He breathes out, shakily. He's trying. He's trying so hard, the instinctual need to try and make someone proud of him, to please someone, taking over.
This repeats, until his breaths slow, and he can breathe properly again.

The monster moves one of its hands to the top of his head and gently ruffles his hair. It's twice the size of his head, not counting the claws.
" You did well, little one. You did very well. " Toby's eyes widen, and he peeks up at the monster. He-he didn't... He's never gotten praise before.
His eyes droop, and he leans into the monster, knees buckling. He's... He's suddenly very tired. His head hurts. He just, he just wants to take a nap. Just a little one.
The hand continues to ruffle his hair, the other arm reaching around him to hold him, lifting him up again.

" Sleep, little one. Nothing will happen to you in your sleep. I promise you may rest... "

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*Awkward finger guns* Aaayyyeee everyone! So, yes, I know, I have a different story I SHOULD be working on.
But, I got inspired to write this. Obviously, the other story isn't over! I just gotta get back into my writing groove~
But, I hoped ya'll like this! Comment if you want me to continue it!
Tell me if you saw some grammar or spelling errors, please.
See ya later my Skeleturtles!