1 Chapter 1

Gold(Au) Norse God of Thunder(Thor) wants to tell you that he needs some motivation, depends on what kind of process it was...

Anyways, if you like the story... drop your comments for improvement and add this to your library...

Bye...~

The introduction is corny...

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(A/N: This is before the birth of Tomas Marvolo Riddle a.k.a. Lord Voldemort)

Title: Wyatt Corbin Bassett

January 8, 1923

Wools Orphanage, London

The matron and landlady of the Wools Orphanage, Mrs. Cole, was staring outside the window of her room with thoughtful, looking outside as the normal occurance of rain at London begins pouring.

She were having peculiar dreams at later days, starting when she eat her favorite food given by her distant friend that had just come back from America, though she really didn't blame her predicament to the delicious food from her friend, her mind was still in chaos because of the dreams, especially the last one.

Her dreams were about of the tale of the King Arthur, nothing so grand, but each dreams she had was so long for her, as if she had also lived at their times, and it took only one night of dreaming to finish the whole tale.

The second onto third dreams were more focused at the King's Life, who was those close to him, what are his hobbies, and something about himself having a half-sister that is also a noble, though wasn't as high as a royal.

At the fourth and the fifth, which are the most recent dreams, she was scared.

The dreams had shown her about the alternate reality of the king's feats, of how the truce was broken and they were got attack unprepared, how he lost to his son's rebellion, of how he was killed by his right hand contrasting the texts of his feats saying that he ascended because of him being loved by the gods and didn't die.

The matron didn't like it, especially the dreams were so weird, as if mostly real for her.

Shaking off those thoughts, she heaved a sigh defeatedly, since even if she called a physician to help her, it would be at a farce since it's just five dreams and nights, nothing worse to say.

She come out of her room and checked the halls of any childrens sneaking around and found no one, and after a double-checking she came down at the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee.

After making one, she came back to her room enjoying the warmth of the hot drink, until she spotted someone at the 'gate'.

The person were wearing a hood and cape, had put a basket in front of the gate, taking out both hands with one holding a knife, their actions were unmistakably seen by the matron, whose mind were thinking of going out and confront the hooded man, or call the cops for seeing a weird person until she heard a cry from outside, which her mind processed that had come from nowhere than the basket.

'Is this another dream or what? no... NO! this isn't a dream! it's real... the baby!' Panicking, she disregard anything in her mind and rushed out of her room, going at the gate anxiously at the thought of the hooded man plunging the knife in their hand to the baby, a live infanticide that would cause a ruckus and terror to every young childrens and their mothers if didn't stopped.

"Hey! you bastard!" the matron shouted as she slammed the door behind her and rushed at the gate which caused the hooded man to be surprised, and run away from the basket kicking it off in the process.

The matron's heart skipped a bit when she heard the cries again, this time she was sure that it came from the basket, clenching her teeth forcing her old body to run faster, straining herself to limit reaching the gate at few seconds.

Fumbling the keys at her pocket to open the gate at panic, she scooped up the baskets fallen 'contents', not minding the whereabouts of the man that had just tried to kill the 'baby'.

In her hands were a white clothes wrapped to a young male infant, his body was already moist and wet from the fall and rain, he was adorable of weren't crying painfully, which were the matron froze as she found a long bleeding cut at it's exposed arm.

Not waiting for any second to pass, she pickup the empty basket and the baby, and rushed back at the the orphanage's door forgetting the unlocked gate.

Putting the basket at one of the chairs, she searched for her med kit at her room, finding it next to her dresser and grab it at lightning speed, fumbling the contents searching for bandages, cotton, and alcohol, she put the baby carefully at her bedside and started treating the baby's arm, trying to not shake in anger and pain.

Anger to the man that hurt the baby, and sadness because of the baby getting hurt.

The cries became more frantic and loud when she applied the cotton with alcohol to the wound, she comforted the child while applying the bandages.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, don't cry. no one will hurt you... mother were here." the matron said to the baby and she sand a lullaby, for it slowly stop its crying, the baby's face changed into comfortable one as the matron finished her work. It looked at her with it's curious little eyes, and matron finally had the time for her to inspect the child's face.

The child had a piercing blue eyes and messy black hair, with milky white skin and chubby cheeks, his lips opened and close making a 'baa baa baa' sound, the matron's lips formed a smile at these until she remembered the gate.

'I guess I'm really worried for him, forgetting to close the gate...' she chuckled as she let the baby sleep first before going outside, not noticing a single piece of paper that slid out off the child's hands out of nowhere as she left the room.

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April 12, 1929

Wools Orphanage Halls, London

"You brat! come back here!"

"Never!" shouted gleefully by a 6 years old child with black hair running around the halls of the orphanage's higher floors, his hands were holding two books, which weren't exactly for kids to read.

This of course, was the male infant that Mrs. Cole found and saved in front of their gate, it's already been 6 years since that happened, and now everyone could see how cheeky and funny the boy was.

Mrs. Cole were truly disappointed and panicking inside, since the books that David were holding were very, very, very, 'confidential' for his age, and were supposed to be at the back of her cabinet, remembering her suffering before, she grumbled a bit and continued the child's chase.

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After closing the gate that day, Mrs. Cole called the cops telling what she witnessed from how the hooded man were going to kill the baby to how the person run at her sight. The police weren't happy because of the lack of evidence and there even nothing for them to check except the basket and the white clothes the wrapped the baby, although some of them looked at the matron weirdly at the mention of the child, though they immediately know that she wouldn't do it, because of her profession and legacy, the Wools Orphanage where lots of parentless and abandoned child were staying, until someone adopts them.

After the interrogation and now entering her room again, a thought comes to her mind making her stop her tracks.

'What was this child's name?' she thought and panicked with the mix of rage at it, she was definitely angry that the hooded man were trying to kill a nameless baby, whom which are very adorable and innocent.

Herself wanted to name the little angel in front of her, but she also need to know who was the parents, either set the names for search warrant or look for them, because she definitely knows that the man wasn't a boy's relative, more like a kidnapper.

'But, why in front of orphanage? Is this some sort of terrorism act? Like that story of Jack the Ripper?' she shuddered at the thought of the famous killer lurking at the whole London, not that she was dead scared for herself, but for the kids at the orphanage, what if that hooded man was the famous killer? or maybe a new one?

*sigh*

Sighing in exasperation, she looked at the baby whose sleeping soundly and smiled, the boy were undeniably cute.

Next day arrives and a police had come to the orphanage, to give back the basket and give a piece of paper, saying that it was found at the basket bottom sticking out with tape.

To her surprise, the paper had a very peculiar message on it.

"Wyatt Corbin Bassett, may he conquer the skies and the lands."

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"Give me back those books! It's not for kids like you!" shouted raspily of the matron whose now red in shame, embarrassment and anger to the boy, Wyatt.

Well, she was almost caught by the kid in the act of pleasing herself, whose had taken the chance to snatch the book like a thief and run around the whole house, technically leaving her 'me time' incomplete.

"As I said, Neve-"

"You are grounded to your room and will never be allowed inside any bookstores at the library establishments streets around the whole London, stop and give me that book 'bookworm maniac' of Wools Orphanage." the matron threatened Wyatt, who stopped to turn around to retort, making the matron catch his hand with the book and snatch it to his grasp. Smirking inwardly, the matron sighed in relief after taking back her 'belongings', the belongings of a yearning woman for man's affection.

"Wha... nevermind, you can have these books... even if I still didn't read that... can I read it after you were done?" Wyatt pouted cutely while not minding the threat, the face of matron become more fiercer shade of red. In embarrassment.

"Y-y-you can't r-read this books! It's not good for kids!" stuttered by the matron whose now leaning on the wall for support with her breath ragged and a little bit of frustration written on her face, and were looking as if she wanted to hide in a hole and die there in embarrassment.

"Books weren't good for kids? But you sai-" Wyatt was confused and complained but was cutted off.

"No! it's not like that, this kind of books were not good and what you've been reading were good. Was it clear? Okay?"

"Yes..."

"N-now that you already know that, just come downstairs and don't come to my room! Play with the other kids!"

"Why can't I go to your... and she left. Great." Wyatt grumbled in annoyance as the matron swiftly dashed downstairs, not even minding the weird looks from the older and younger orphans.

"I guess that books, 'The story of a masochistic knight of and his sadistic princess' and 'Debauchery between the Empress and her sons' were bad. Should I ask the other's opinions about stealing it again? I really want to read it." he mumbled, which if heard clearly by the older orphans, would either laugh or blush uncontrollably at his 'innocent' question.

With resolve, David steeled himself for another round of stealing the 'book'.

"Alright! I swear that at this day, I will get 'The story of a masochistic knight of and his sadistic princess' and 'Debauchery between the Empress and her sons' and read it! no matter what happens!" he shouted loudly which made every older ones that heard him froze.

"""EHHH?!""" shouted by everyone.who heard him, males smirked because of the interesting titles he just said and females blushing at his bold claim, some younger orphans joined to while giggling, completely oblivious at the danger they would have suffer if they joined Wyatt's adventure today.

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Not so long until night~

"YOUUU BRAAAAT, WHERE ARE MY BOOOOOOKSSSS?!?!" screamed by the matron whose clearly vexed at the child's unbending curiosity, making her dignity and image at the public go down.

[Wyatt POV]

"Huh? this story were weird, why does the man were happy on getting pierced of that giant black spear of the princess?"

"Oh god, that's just... nevermind it Davy, let's just read it." said by one of the older orphans that were listening while he reads the 'book' he 'borrowed', some were already squirming which is mostly the boys, while the few girls were smiling like Cheshire cats with hearts in their eyes.

'I wonder where the matron buy this book' thoughtof one of the orphans.

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Gold-Thor: Didn't know that the matron swings that way, hahahaha. And those... those female orphans, damnit... whahahaha.

Additionally, these fanfic were the most bizarre one, why? well...

"Who, or what else, did or would try to 'ground pound' seven stories coming from popular movies to popular anime, or horror ones, into one flat book?"

Also, may my quill won't stop writing. God bless you.