John Price.

Being the child of a SAS Captain is hard enough, but being the unwanted hybrid child of Captain John Price was horrible on a whole different level.

When Anne was younger it was the blatant ignorance of Price that made it hard. A hybrid kid needed different stuff than a normal kid. Not just clothes that needed to be altered to fit your features, but problems like the more severe teething, or growing pains being a lot more prominent.

Most of Anne’s young years were spent locked away. Of course you weren’t allowed to wander off, your dad was a Captain. But also in the house you were confined to a handful of rooms in a far wing of the house.

Mostly because Price was ashamed of you. The thought of one of his business associates seeing you, it disgusted him.

In general Price strongly disliked you, glaring at you every time you dared to call him ‘daddy’ or tried to show him a drawing you made.

But now you were a bit older and Price started to realise the potential you held. You were a hybrid, you could do things other people couldn’t, things his soldiers couldn’t do, even if he trained them.

So he used you, made you his little hybrid soldier, keeping you on a tight leash. Mounts of training finally lead to Price, putting you on his team, taking you with him on the field. A simple mission sounds like an effortless plan, a great way to integrate you into the workfield.

Or so he thought.

A lot went wrong, a lot more than Price would’ve liked to admit. They were ambushed almost instantly, a lot of people getting hurt in the proces, you one of many.

When everything cooled down you were huddled in the corner, whimpering quietly, a bullet wound in your right shoulder. Softly you call out for Price, hoping to get some comfort and medical attention.

But the second his eyes laid on your hurt figure he scoffed, “What? Couldn’t dodge a few bullets? You useless shit,” He scoffs as he walks over “I knew you were useless, should’ve taken you out before I wasted all those resources, what a waste.” He snaps.