Elena
I adjust the collar of my new black sweatshirt then pull down the hems of my black sleeveless shirt, fixing it. I woke up slightly earlier than I was supposed to only to find neatly folded clothes on my bed; all black, of course. My eyes take in the commotion all around me as I slowly make my way down the hallway. Everyone seems to be in a hurry to get ready for the morning training because the consequences aren't pleasant if they come late. This is why I hated being a trainee, I was always feeling a constant tension in fear I'll screw up and get punished.
I decide to follow a group of trainees, assuming they're on their way to the gym. My eyes water as the early morning sun hits my face when we exit the building, my hand immediately shielding my sensitive eyes. After a brief walk, I find myself entering a warehouse-type building, its cool temperature making me shiver. We make our way down the hallway, dozens of training rooms settled on each side. When we finally reach the right training room, I observe it in awe. Training stations are situated in every part of it, varying from a boxing ring, martial arts area, knife-throwing range, shooting range, and so on.
The room is filled with people, everyone already training or listening to their trainers as they explain to them what should they do. I'm pleased to see there are both men and women in here, which means there's a chance I'll see my brother. My eyes start scanning the room when a familiar face blocks my vision.
"You're early," Tori smiles, placing her hands on her hips. She's dressed in all black, a sports bra and knee leggings covering her body. "Want a tour?"
"No need, I already know everything," I say. "Can you tell me when will I be able to see that guy from yesterday?"
"Oh, you mean H?" She asks. "He should be here soon, he always comes to check on the trainees."
"H? And what's his full name?"
"He only likes to be called H, so it's irrelevant," she replies. "Besides, you have to call him sir. He takes that stuff seriously," she rolls her eyes.
Before I can reply, the sight of my brother engaged in a combat in the corner of the room catches my attention. "Excuse me." I walk past her, jogging toward him. It seems it's nothing serious, it's only for practice which puts me at ease. The last thing I need is for one of us to get into trouble. "Hey, klutz," I greet him when I near them, my lips pulling in a small smile. I'm relieved to see he's also wearing a sweatshirt, not a short-sleeved shirt.
Both him and the guy he's fighting with stop, their attention now set on me. "Hey, sis," Alex says, panting. "Meet my new mate, Louis," he nods toward the other, shorter guy.
His light blue eyes observe me, his brown hair pushed in a damp messy quiff. "I'm Louis," he says, extending his hand. When I place my hand in his, he pulls me to his chest, spinning my body around and attempting to put me in a chokehold. However, I react quickly, elbowing him in the stomach and pulling myself away from him. "Quick reflexes, I like it," he smiles widely, his arms clutching his stomach as he slightly bends from the pain.
"Elena," I introduce myself. "Do you do that often? Test the reflexes of girls you've just met?" I raise my brow in amusement, eyeing him.
He laughs lightly. "Actually, yes. I'm currently a trainer, so I have to know what I'm working with. You've passed the first test, El. Wait, I can call you that, right?" I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off, "great!"
I laugh as he rambles cheerfully, his eyes suddenly focusing on something behind me. I turn around, seeing H standing in the doorway, his eyes glancing over the room. The same blonde guy from yesterday is standing beside him, a smirk playing on his lips as a random girl approaches him.
"Oi, H!" Louis calls him, waving him over. "Time to meet the boss," he tells me, winking.
I want to tell him I've already met him, but he turns to my brother, whispering something to him and they high-five each other. We've been here for less than twenty-four hours and they already look like they've known each other for years.
"More training, less talking, ladies," H speaks behind me and I freeze, quickly stepping aside so I can look at him properly. I notice he's wearing black sweatpants with a matching t-shirt, his curls pushed back with a bandana, also black.
I believe this is my chance to ask him to allow Alex and me to move into the army building when Tori's voice cuts me off. She jogs over to me, a smile playing on her lips. "Come on, let's train. You're a newbie, so I'm eager to see what skills you've got."
"Wanna see mine?" Louis taunts her, smirking.
"Saw them, I'm not impressed," she retorts quickly.
"You sure? Look at all this," he gestures to his body, moving his hand up and down.
H's green eyes briefly lock with mine, but Tori pulls me with her, preventing me from speaking to him. A sigh escapes my lips as I barely keep my pace with her. She stops in the middle of the room, turning to face me. "Any particular skills you're proud of?"
I glance around the room, my teeth capturing my lower lip as I think. A smirk makes its way to my lips as I notice a perfect training station for me, something I'm the best at. I walk away from Tori without a word, making my way toward the tables with knives lined on top of them. I examine the types of knives, choosing the one that fits me the best.
Tori stands beside me with her arms crossed over her chest, watching me intently. I take the knife and test its weight before lifting my hand, my eyes focusing on the target set a few metres away. I grip the knife properly and swing my hand, watching as the knife flies and jams itself straight into the centre. Bullseye.
"Damn," Tori comments. "Can you do that again?"
I repeat the process a few times, using a different technique and knife each time, always hitting the centre. I haven't noticed there's a small group of people gathered around me, watching me in amazement. Throwing knives is something I've been practicing since I was six years old, so it's natural it's one of my top skills.
"Show off," Alex says behind me and I turn, seeing him standing with a smirk on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Interesting," H comments, his voice catching my attention. His posture is straight, his hands clasped behind his back. "I wonder where did you learn that?"
"It's tough to survive out there," I mumble an excuse, clearing my throat. "I have a small request. . . sir."
"Okay, that was cool!" A kid's voice interrupts me, my eyes shifting on a boy that looks like he's about twelve years old. A girl about that age is standing behind him, shyly looking up at me. "Can you show me how to do that? It was so cool!"
"No," H denies immediately, his eyebrows pulled together, showing how displeased he is. "What are you two doing here, Tommy? Alice?"
"Liam told us we're allowed to come here," he says, shrugging.
"I told you to ask me and only me," H reprimands him. "Why is it always you two causing the trouble?"
"You never visit, so we had to come here," the little girl, Alice, says quietly, big brown eyes peering up at H.
"Niall!" He suddenly yells and I notice how the blonde one looks at us in surprise, pushing away the girl he was so obviously flirting with. He jogs over to us, placing his hands on his hips as he looks at H. "Niall, I want you to take them back to their building," he orders him and Niall nods. "Also, find Liam, we need to have a chat."
Niall nods and places his hand on Tommy's shoulder while taking Alice's hand. H ruffles Tommy's hair before they leave and I catch a tiny smile that forms on his lips.
"Sir--" I start again, but he ignores me, casually walking toward the other part of the room and engaging in a conversation with one of the trainers, I assume.
"C'mere, klutz," I call my brother and he rolls his eyes, approaching me. "Talk to him and ask him to relocate us into the army building."
"Fuck no," he shakes his head frantically. "Lenny, he has this look in his eyes," he squints his eyes, his eyebrows frowning in a ridiculous way, his lips puckering, "and damn it feels as if he could set you on fire by just looking at you like that."
"Don't be a wimp," I say. "We're not trainees, Alex. Besides, it'll be easier for us to get exposed if we stay in that building, constantly surrounded by people. We'd have more privacy as soldiers, you know that."
"Why do I always get the worst tasks?" He complains. "Like when I had to clean all the blood in our room after that one time you got into a fight with that bloke," he scrunches his nose in disgust. "Or when I had to seduce that guy, and I'm not even gay, so we could--"
"Shut up!" I clamp my hand over his mouth, glancing around to make sure no one heard him. "That's why you get all those tasks, one of us has to be the brains!"
He licks my palm and I immediately pull it away. "Ew," I wipe my palm against my pants. "You're disgusting."
"Not true. Everyone finds me charming," he smiles proudly. Annoyingly enough, he's right. Alex is that type of person who just kind of gets under your skin, his cheerful demeanor appealing to people.
"Hey, you two!" Louis calls us. "Move your asses, let's train, come on!" He claps a few times. "Body fat won't disappear on its own!"
. . . .
I've spent two hours training basic combat skills, which was unnecessary since I've mastered them a long time ago. My brother, on the other hand, has been having a blast with Louis, laughing with him as they teach each other different ways to flip someone off.
The minute H stops talking with a group of trainers, I waste no time to sprint toward him, repeating the words I should say in my head. Unfortunately, whenever I practice a speech, I end up saying something completely different and embarrassing myself. I won't let it happen this time.
"No," H says flatly before I can even say anything. "Your brother asked me already. The answer is no."
My face falls slightly. "Sir, I know we're new here," I say. "But we're both skilled enough and have been on missions many times."
"Is that so?" He raises his eyebrow skeptically, his pale green eyes trailing down my figure. "And in what base? We don't let people become soldiers just like that. Particular set of skills is required, not to mention mental capacity--"
"With all due respect, I know all that already," I interject. "Give us a chance."
"If you were a soldier, you'd know it's offensive to interrupt your superior when he is speaking," he warns me. "I'm fit enough to conclude you're not cut out to join our army."
"But you've been watching us train," I reason. "If you could just allow us to demonstrate--"
"Good luck with your training, trainee." He gives me a hand before turning around, starting to walk back toward the exit.
I quickly bend, pulling a pocket knife from my boot, unfolding it swiftly. My trained eyes calculate the distance and I swing my hand, chucking the knife in his direction. I watch as it flies mere centimetres from his head, jamming into the door.
He freezes, his prominent back muscles tensing underneath his shirt. I notice almost all pairs of eyes are now set on the two of us, everyone silently preparing for the drama that will occur. I do understand he holds some kind of authority in here, but that doesn't mean he's allowed to underestimate anyone.
He turns around, his eyes burning into mine with such intimidating intensity, my pulse quickens. I expect him to yell at me or even physically assault me, but instead, he surprises me as he speaks in a cold, collected voice. "Follow me." He then turns again, walking out of the gym.
I take a deep breath, my feet finally deciding to listen after a few seconds. Louis jogs to me, patting my back. "Damn, you've got balls! Good luck, though, you'll need it."
I pull the knife on my way out, pushing it back inside my boot. When I exit the gym, I feel a strong grip on my upper arm, tugging me forward. H is pacing in front of me, and I sense where this is going. I'm used to this type of punishment, so I don't make a sound, preparing myself for the worst. He turns into one of the empty training rooms and drags me inside before closing the door behind him.
I stand straight, lifting my chin. Another skill I've mastered over the years; masking my emotions.
His blazing green eyes burn into mine once again, his eyebrows pulled in a deep frown as he takes a few steps toward me. "Do you know what is respect?" He asks and before I can reply, he continues, "obviously not. And I can already see you have no idea what is the definition of authority either, otherwise, you wouldn't have pulled that shit."
I listen in silence, showing no emotion as I wait for him to punish me. Physical punishments are common among superiors, at least in my experience. When he takes another step closer, I can't help but flinch slightly. Unfortunately, he notices it.
"Aww, what is it, scaredy cat?" He asks sarcastically.
"I'm not scared, I just like when people get down to business," I reply. "Just get on with it and hit me."
Confusion washes over his features. "Hit you? Why the hell would I. . ." he huffs, his fingers tangling into his hair. "That's not how we do things here," he tells me, his eyes suddenly focusing on something on me.
I glance where he's looking, horror sweeping through me as I notice the sweatshirt has shifted down a bit, revealing my right shoulder, my tattoo peeking under it. I quickly pull it up, but it's too late; H has already seen it. It's over.
He paces toward me, tugging the sweatshirt down, revealing the tattoo completely. I step away from him and pull it back up, my eyes looking at his. Despite his obvious surprise and anger, I still don't let my façade drop. I manage to control my panic, my pulse the only thing giving away how I truly feel.
"You're from Vortex," he says in disbelief.