Werewolf University

Chapter Four

Being focused on schoolwork for literally all your life is not a bad thing. You collect A's like trophies, you receive honors and badges and certificates like there's no tomorrow. But now that I've done all that I can't help but feel I was missing out. I never worked on building my physique, never ran a mile in my life, never picked up something heavier than my schoolbag.

I think I'd always thought there'd be time later in life, but when did I pass the due date? When did time run out?

Monday was tough - cardio had always been my enemy. But I lived. Tuesday was gruesome, my arms quivered and shook even though there were barely enough weights on the longbar to look heavy. My arms still protested every time I moved, stiff with all the oxygen debt. Still I survived.

And here I stand, rooted to the spot, because even with all those hours in my life I spent in front of the books, memorizing everything, soaking up the info like I'm spongebob's twin - not one book could've prepared me, because books don't teach you how to fight, or swim, or survive.

Today is Wednesday. Sparring day. Now let me explain something, or more like ask something - if I cannot even swim at the ripe age of 18, where do they think I got the time to practice my left hook?

Brianna looked serious as always, she had a hand towel draped over her shoulder and spoke to us as if we were to be the next Aztec warriors. "As much as I would like to tell you to fight clean and fair, it doesn't work like that out there." She pointed towards what I would like to believe is the 'outside world', "so do whatever you can to defend yourself while also harming or slowing down your opponent, think strategically and don't kill each other."

Thanks for the tip. My mind sarcastically replied. I was battling with myself, should I run? I am going to get seriously hurt today I just know it. They say werewolves have a primal instinct when it comes to battle, they say you'll just know what to do when the time is right or when your life is in danger. So where are my primal instincts now?

Brianna took half the students and went to the opposite side of the gym, she said otherwise we would be here until tonight. We were already into the afternoon because Lesley and Brianna spent half the morning showing us sparring moves and what to do and what to avoid and where the weak spots of the body is. I didn't pay much of attention and now I was regretting it. I stared wide eyed as two guys sparred on the sparring mat in the gymnasium we were currently in, they moved fast, ferociously and were basically ripping each other's throats out without having any training in combat. These guys... these boys were monsters. And if this is just an innocent sparring match I did not want to know how they would be once they could shift.

The sparring mat was already filled with tiny spatters of crimson liquid and it baffled me how this place could allow such harsh training method. I swallowed to try and sooth the sandpaper feeling in my throat. I tried breathing exercises to hide the terror seeping into my muscles and I was beginning to fear I was frozen to my seat.

The two boys fisted, kicked, scratched and dodged their way to the winning blow, both of them were exasperated and sweaty but neither willing to give in. One of the boys with blonde hair punched his opponent in the gut, the boy with the red hair (the opponent) clutched his stomach while the blond guy gripped him around the neck from in front, choking him into submission I assume, but the red haired guy had enough energy for one more move. He threw a blow with his elbow into the blond guy's stomach followed by two more and a last one so full of untapped rage I swear I heard a crack, the blond guy coughed and reared falling back onto the mat clutching his side, face crumpled with pain. The red haired boy threw him face down onto the mat and put his knee on the back of the boy's neck and drew his arms back into an unnatural position.