Training Warriors

A young boy, perhaps five or six years old, sat on the ground. His hands were covered in blood, and his clothes were blood-soaked. In front of him was a dead wolf cub, battered to a pulp.

Its legs were severed, its head was ripped open, and its eyes were crushed. Even a grownup would not engage in such behaviour. But it was the boy who was doing it.

"How dare you mess with me, wolf? I am #########..."

His words were hazy.

I sensed an outside interference as if someone was interfering with my ability to hear his remarks.

Soon after, a woman dashed towards him. The woman took the youngster by the collar and lifted him up.

"Ethan! Why are you doing that?

"Mother?" The youngster cocked his head. " I was only fooling around with the wolf. "Can't you see how delighted the wolf

"Can't you see how delighted the wolf

"Fuck!"

I got up.

I simply would have woken up earlier if I had known the dream would be unpleasant.

I was aware that this was the result of using another person's memories, but E