#kid!connor

Connor Stern is an 8-year-old boy locked away in the basement of the most notorious crime family Detroit has ever seen. His salvation comes in the form of an old, mean, alcoholic lieutenant who's desperate to see at least one kid get a happy ending.

Connor loses everything he's ever known in one night, and quickly learns that his own definition of normal happens to be quite skewed. If his family's violent attempts of rescue don't kill him, the hospital visits might. Putting on weight is hard, and so is living with a handful of grumpy police officers.

“...doesn't seem to make a difference.” “You tried, Connor. That always makes a difference.”

May 1998, Rockport Massachusetts

»Connor! Be careful, son!« The voice of a man echoed through the thick forest and bounced off of the steep mountains and their jagged surface. The sun stood high in a clear azure blue sky. Not even the hint of a cloud foreshadowing a change in weather could be seen. The air was mild and the rays of sunlight so warm and bright that one could get lost standing in the warmth for too long, melting into a puddle on the ground – or at least catching a nasty sunburn instead. The branches of the large pines and birches danced softly in soft puffs of the wind with their leaves shaking oh so tenderly. The only sound out here in this tiny little world came from the animals around, the rattle of hoofs from deer running around deep in the underwood, the tiny stomping of paws from rabbits fleeing from the intruders and into the thicker branches of the brushwood where it was safe, the smacking sound when a pine cone would fall to the ground sharply every once in a while, and the patter of small feet running through the shrubs and breaking small twigs in their wake.

Connor was careful not to make a sound when he moved through the forest usually. It was the latest game that he and his father would play. His father had said that he wanted to teach him how to move without making any noise and so far Connor was eager to prove to him that he was indeed capable of doing exactly that every time he and his father would leave the house to go and play in the woods. It was much harder out here than it was in their home. Inside the house, Connor knew every creaking floorboard and knew which step was better to be avoided when sneaking up on his father. Even when they were not playing, Connor enjoyed sneaking up on his parents, especially on his father, for he would first jolt in surprise when Connor would suddenly pinch him from behind and then he would growl like a wild beast only to chase him through the house and lift him up whenever he would catch Connor. Of course, it was needless to say that Connor let himself get caught by his father always, for he loved it when his father would pick him up like this only to carry him around the house like a slain beast.

His mother would only smirk when she would see it, shake her head softly and turn back to whatever she was in the midst of doing – mom-stuff, usually. No matter how much he loved it at home, however, Connor had always been drawn to the woods more. He spent every free minute out here in the wilderness, albeit it of course scarcely without supervision. His parents would never make the grave mistake in provoking their four-year-old son in saying that it was too dangerous for him out in the woods all alone, of course, but Connor knew that they were secretly thinking this and he was always determined to prove them wrong.

»I'm not a baby anymore, Raké:ni!« Connor shouted back at his father from a distance as he slowly made an effort to climb up a tree stump. His mother had taught him how to climb and run through trees almost immediately as he had made his first steps. He was not as good as her, of course, and he remembered watching his mother in awe, hoping that one day he would be as agile and skilled as her.

He could hear his father's footsteps through the forest and knew that the old wolf did not even try to make no noise, perhaps even so that Connor would be aware of his presence and would not fear that he had been left alone. Connor, however, had different plans as he brought enough distance between himself and his father to hide from him. That was yet another game they would play every once in a while. His father, however, did not seem very fond of that game, or rather not as fond as he was of the other games they would play. Connor though loved it when his father would start searching for him and he always had quite a hard time to hold back his laughter and giggles when he would hide somewhere and could hear his father nearby.

His mother had started early to teach him how to read tracks of animals and humans alike. He did not quite understand why his mother would teach him such things or why they would play all those little games together, but he enjoyed it tremendously. His mother would hide somewhere and Connor would need to analyze the tracks she would leave behind for him to find her. He always did. He was quite good at this, his father, however, had not the slightest clue about such things. He could not even climb trees. Maybe that was the reason why it was so funny to Connor to hide from his father. He would hide either until his father would find him or was exhausted enough from searching that Connor could scare him in jumping out of some bush.

Today, however, Connor felt like scaring his father a little. He could not quite say why he enjoyed this so much, but he did and so he strayed from the path they would usually walk on. He was not allowed to wander too deep into the woods, especially not alone. His parents liked to warn him that dangerous animals would wait in the deepest parts of the forest for little boys like him to devour in one single piece, but Connor was sure that those were just stories his parents had made up to scare him from wandering off too far. Especially his father liked to slip into the role of the big bad wolf or the dangerous brown bear when he would tell those stories to scare his little boy, but Connor had never quite believed those tales, no matter how much effort his parents put into telling them.

The other children of the village did not believe this stuff either. It was something entirely different when his Grandpa would tell him stories about pirates and sea monsters, though. One time he had not been able to sleep in his own bed for almost one entire week after his Grandpa had told him the story of a large Kraken that was known to destroy ships and eat their crew somewhere in the Atlantic sea. He wished he would be able to see his Grandpa more often than he could, but sadly he lived so far away that Connor only got him to see maybe once or twice a year at best.

Connor was quick to escape his father’s eyes as he ran through the woods, darted sideways whenever he needed to until the forest around him grew even thicker and darker. As he finally stopped, he was not able to tell for how long he had been running and he could not hear his father any longer. He had stopped in the middle of a clearing and could hear one of the two rivers that were cutting through the area gurgling in the distance, but the trees were so large and loomed so high over him, that they blocked out every bit of sunlight and even the sky. It was cold without the sun and he could not help but rub his naked arms as he was only wearing his favorite light blue T-Shirt. It had a rocket ship printed on the front and his father had brought it with him as he had come back from his last business travels into the city. Carefully, Connor looked around, but he could not tell where he was or from where he had come anymore. Suddenly, it was not only the missing sunlight that made him shiver.

In the distance he could hear the sound of a deep, feral growl and for just a second his tiny heart jumped as it was sure it was his father, but when he looked around, there was no one to be seen, but the growl grew louder. Suddenly it was as if it came from everywhere around him. First, he saw the flash of gray fur through the shrubbery, then he heard the sound of large paws breaking twigs under the weight of a beast.

Connor started running in earnest this time, unable to really see or tell to where he was even running. Blind fear was driving him into action and his short legs soon tense with strain. The forest around him was suddenly so dark, that it was even hard to see the ground beneath his feet and so, suddenly, Connor's left foot got caught on a root and he found himself stumbling. He lost his balance right away and fell without being able to really do anything about it, as he landed on the hard ground and rolled down a ravine, his back hitting stones in the process hard and as he finally reached the end of the ravine he was sure that he had broken something.

Hot tears were rolling down his cheeks in a matter of seconds as he became aware of the situation he had gotten himself into. As the fear that was manifesting itself in its tiny little chest tried to swallow him whole, however, Connor immediately wiped away the tears from his cheeks. He was not a crybaby! He had never been one! And he would not cry and sob now! The forest had never been frightening to him and he was sure that it never would. He would find his way back and that he would do without tears so that his father would be proud of him. Still, Connor took a moment to collect himself, sitting in the dirt. He drew in a deep breath and pushed out a shuttering huff of warm air afterwards. His mother had taught him to breathe deeply when he was afraid and so he did, to get rid of his fear. It did not work as well as it did at home, though.

As he sat in the dirt he had a little time to examine his injuries. His palms were scratched and bloody, as were his knees which he could see through the ripped fabric of his grey jeans. Oh, his mother would be furious that he had ripped another pair of jeans again. Surely this time she would make him wear silly patches on his knees to teach him a lesson and the other kids would mock him! He felt miserable just imagining how the other kids would pick on him. He remembered how they had made fun of Kanen'tó:kon the last time, he had been forced to wear a tiny heart on a hole in his jeans until he had outgrown the bloody thing. Oh, his mother would surely find something even more embarrassing for him. In a mere two seconds his fear of the unknown forest around him had been replaced by his anguish about the very real possibility of having to wear patches on his ripped clothes from now on and once again he felt like crying, as he brushed the dirt from his clothes and slowly stood up.

Well, maybe he had not broken a bone or two, but still, his entire body hurt and he did his best to suppress a small hiccup.

As he finally took another look around, slowly stepping forward, there was nothing he was able to recognize, no matter how often he had wandered the woods with his parents or played hide and seek with his friends. To him, it was almost as if he had crossed over into a whole other world. Maybe he had. Maybe he would never find his way home now. He thought about Alice in Wonderland. His mother had read the story to him not too long ago. Maybe he was now in Wonderland himself? But he had not fallen into a rabbit hole. No, this could not be Wonderland then, could it?

Around him the trees stood so tightly together that they blocked out every bit of light and suddenly Connor was not even sure anymore if it was daytime at all. Maybe he had hit his head and fallen unconscious and it was already night now! No, surely he would remember knocking his head and falling unconscious, would he? At least he would remember waking up again. He tried to keep his head cool, the same way his father always told him to whenever a tantrum was approaching like a storm. It did not work and soon, after a few more steps, he again felt tears streaming down his face and found himself calling out for his father. »Raké:ni? Where are you?« But his own voice sounded thin to him and he immediately felt embarrassed about just how anxious it sounded. Did he not just tell his father that he was in fact not a baby anymore? And now here he was, calling for his dad like a small child. Well, in his defense, he was only four years old. He was allowed to call for his daddy like a small child because he was a small child.

Connor continued calling out for his father as he was moving forward while the thought crossed his mind, that it might be better to stay where he was, just in case his father was already looking for him. Surely he was. His current state of anxiousness and panic was disrupted, however, as he saw a flash of white between the trees and the bushes and it did not take long, until curiosity overpowered the miserable situation he was in.

So, he decided, against all better judgment, that he wanted to see what that white thing was and almost forgot about his father and his own fear of never finding back home again. Maybe he really was in Wonderland and the flash of white was the White Rabbit with its pocket watch. Maybe he was meant to follow it! Connor started to run, as the white seemed to get farther and farther away from him. For almost a second, he was sure that he had seen the figure of a man dressed completely in white, but then he was sure that he had just imagined things.

As he was moving forward, the world around him only grew darker and darker and even the sounds he was so used to, the rattle of hoofs, the stomping of little paws, the smacking sounds when a pine cone would hit the ground every once in a while, started to grow scarcer and scarcer and he was sure that soon they would die out entirely. »Raké:ni? Where are you?« He called out again, this time more silent and maybe only because his brain told him to, while his feet were already guiding him farther away from home.

After stumbling through the shrubs for quite some time, he came to another large clearing and it was the first time that he could actually see the sky again. It hung above him clear blue and without even the hint of a tiny little cloud as if nothing at all had happened to him in the past minutes. He could see the sun, if only barely, but enough to know that he had wandered off quite a bit. His grandfather had once tried to teach him how to navigate with the help of the sun, but no matter how hard he tried to remember, he could not do it.

Suddenly he felt uneasy. It was not the fear coming right back to him with all its might, it was something entirely else. Connor could feel it deep down in his stomach, the tiny feeling that something awful was going to happen. He felt nauseous. It was as if a storm was approaching and there was nothing he, a four year old boy, could do about it.

He could see the flash of white again and this time he was almost sure that it was indeed a man walking through the woods around him but ignoring the little boy that clearly had gotten lost. For the briefest moment, Connor was able to see the man’s face although it seemed almost blurry to him at the same instant. He wanted to call out, but he did not. His features were sharp, his expression stoic, his skin dark, but before he could see more, the man had vanished into thin air and left Connor startled. Before he could even realize what had happened, the sounds of the woods seemed to come back crashing down on him, accompanied by the sound of heavy paws stomping closer fast. As Connor saw the bear it was almost too late.

The bear only sniffed the air for a moment, as it stomped out on the clearing in front of the young boy. It was huge like a mountain in Connor's eyes, its fur had the color of ebony and its eyes were like black bottomless pits. Connor felt his knees trembling as the bear stepped closer, still sniffing the air, growling quietly as Connor was careful to step back quietly. One step after another, he slowly, carefully, moved backwards and away from the large beast. He had never seen a real bear, just like he before had never seen a real wolf, but was sure that the grey thing from earlier had had to be one. Oh, he was doomed! The bear would surely try to eat him! His parents would never know what had happened to him!

The bear seemed to be calm, while Connor moved back, but the moment Connor stepped on a branch that was immediately snapping in half under his weight, the bear let out a dangerous growl and Connor once more froze. Paralyzed with fear, he could only stare with his eyes wide with horror. As the bear came closer, Connor was unable to move even his little finger or to curl his toes. He was terrified and the bear only came closer and closer, until Connor could smell its fur and its wretched rotten breath. The bear did not attack him right away as they were mere inches apart. Still, on all fours, the beast stretched its neck to smell his face and the very much childish part of him wanted to extend his hand to touch its fur, but he tried to suppress the urge.

Only when another growl left the beast, Connor again jumped in fear, but before the bear could attack him, Connor saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his left eye, the bear howled in pain and then it ran off, the bolt of a crossbow sticking out of its side. Connor sunk to the ground, as the bear ran off, still shaking from his near death encounter with the beast, even though his mind was not yet ready to really understand what had been happening to him just now.

»Connor!« The voice of his father bellowed through the woods and as Connor turned his head to look where the voice was coming from, his father was already darting through the bushes and jumped out on the clearing. »Connor! Are you alright?« In an instant, his father crouched down beside him. Connor saw the small contraption on his father's left wrist. He had never questioned this thing whenever he had seen it. It looked like a very small crossbow – but different. He knew his mother was wearing something like this too whenever she was going on a hunt. He did not know what it was, but he was sure that his father had used this thing to scare off the bear.

»Raké:ni!« Connor howled and threw himself into his father's arms. He had never been happier to see his father's face, his ice blue eyes, his pale skin, his black hair and the frown that always seemed to linger on his face. »The bear wanted to eat me!«

His father lifted him up without wasting another second and Connor was quick to wrap his short legs and thin arms around him, his father's right arm supporting his weight. »So I’ve noticed.« Haytham hummed as he rubbed soothing little circles over his back, but started moving immediately. »I told you not to stray, Connor.«

»I’m sorry, Daddy.« He muffled, pressing his face against his father's strong shoulder. He did not like to admit it, but he was certainly very glad that his father had come to his rescue. In his group of friends in the village, he was always seen a little bit like a leader, Kanen’tó:kon thought even that he knew no fear, despite Connor being the youngest of the group, but the truth was, that Connor was very much afraid of being all alone in the woods, as he had now learned. »I never do it again.« He promised and glanced up at his father's face. Only for a second their eyes met and he could see the smirk pulling on his father's thin lips. They both knew his was an empty promise, but his father had enough decency not to point it out as he hummed in agreement.

After a while, Connor found himself staring at the necklace his father wore. He always hid it underneath his clothes, but it had slipped out from under the collar of his shirt now. It was a silver cross. Not a cross like the symbol of the Catholic Church as he had seen before on TV. It was a different kind of cross and Connor knew that there was a reason why his father hid the necklace from the other villagers. He only showed it whenever the three of them were alone at home. It was not the symbol his mother wore around her neck, though. Sometimes it seemed to be a reason for them to fight, but they would never fight whenever he would be awake and thus he barely got a hold of the reason for the fighting until now. The other villagers did not like his father that was why they lived a little closer to the forest, which Connor greatly liked.

They walked in silence back home and Connor only turned his head as the sunlight had him back. They left the forest and he could see their house not too far off. »The bear was cool, though.« Connor quietly mumbled as he saw his mother walking out of the house, as if she already wanted to come looking for her two men. Only then he tensed a little in expectation of the scolding that was about to rain down on him. »Oh no…« He muttered. »I don't want patches on my jeans, Daddy…«