The morning was quiet, almost peaceful. Bella and I were the first in the training centre as normal, and we both took the opportunity to play with knives. I wonder what normal people play with. Bella has mentioned toys a few times, but I doubt they’re as fun as the slice of a blade or the smell of gunpowder from a freshly fired gun.
Stepping into the training sector with Bella, everyone turns to look at us. We aren’t late, we’ve already been training for at least two hours. It’s the fact that we both have already been up and training that scares people.
They don’t find a thrill in killing like we do. I struggle to understand why they don’t like it, it’s what we’ve been trained for. And besides, it’s not like we hurt good people. Only the ones who hurt others.
“Alright girls, I want you to pair up and try to learn another person’s training techniques.”
Wait, what?
“Um, what?” PX-91 asks. I never bothered to learn her name; I didn’t think she would make it this long, honestly.
“Pair with someone other than your assigned partner, and try to learn their fight style without causing too much bodily harm. You have ten minutes,” Trainer says before turning and walking away.
Well okay then.
“Kylie!” That was definitely too loud. Trainer turns around, her brow raised in suspicion, but my back is already turned to her as I walk away. This is bullshit, a whole heap of bullshit.
“PX- 34,” I say her correct name this time, feeling like I should get a reward, but none comes. Which honestly I would love to talk about.
If you’re going to throw ninety-nine girls into a brutal training academy, shouldn’t there at least be an incentive to want to kill? Maybe the other girls would like it more if there was a reward.
I suppose the incentive is getting our lives back when we age out.
Though no one has actually reached twenty-one yet, so it’s hard to believe that’s real when it has never actually happened.
“PX-3.” Kylie nods, stepping onto the mat in front of me. Both our combat boots have been removed and are on the floor beside the mat. I’ve studied everyone’s fight styles, including Kylie’s. She’s tight with her movements, controlled. But when she gets tired, she gets sloppy. And that’s exactly how I’m going to win this fight. Despite the fact I could win it, anyway.
“No hard feelings right?” Cracking my neck, I smile, though I don’t think it comes off as the I’m sorry I’m going to kick your ass, please still like me kind of way I want it to. I’ll let her have my dinner later as a sorry.
“You’re terrifying, Darlia.” Kylie laughs before lunging, making me side-step instantly. Touché, trying to catch me off guard. I respect it.
“Come catch me, Kylie.”
We dance around for a few minutes, but the second I hear Trainer say, “Two minutes,” something inside me snaps, and I black out.
Taking my advance, I jab Kylie in the throat, winding her before putting my hands on her back and neck. I move her down until my knee meets her stomach hard enough that she looks about to pass out. Then, once she’s gasping, I kick out the backs of her knees, making her lose balance for just a moment, but it’s enough. Taking advantage and pushing Kylie down to her knees, I unsheathe my knife and hold it against her throat.
Kylie doesn’t hesitate before grabbing my wrist with both hands, twisting the skin of my arm quickly and hard enough that it sends a searing pain through my arm. My knife drops instantly from the surprise, and then I’m on the floor. Kylie is on top of me with her gun pointed at my stomach. Fuck. I must admit, she surprised me.
No way in hell am I being beaten by Kylie, of all people. Pulling my knees up, I wrap my legs around her and flip us over, pinning her beneath me. Kylie’s gun goes off in the cross fire, hitting the mat right next to my thigh, and something inside me snaps. Grabbing my knife, I slash at her; not intending to break skin, but just to intimidate. I don’t even realise I’m putting pressure on her neck until there’s a pool of blood on the mat beneath us, and I come back to consciousness. I realise I didn’t just hold a knife to Kylie, I used it.
I hurt her.
Kylie is laid on the mat with a deep cut on her left forearm, the type of cut you can see the fat and tissue layers. The human body is so interesting.
“PX-3!” Trainer calls out, running to Kylie’s side and putting pressure on the wound. “Someone run for the doctor, NOW!” she yells, and I stare down at the weeping Kylie.
Her eyes never meet mine. Instead they’re closed, but that doesn’t stop the tears falling down her cheeks. Her skin has turned slightly pale from the blood loss, and the once grey mat is now wet with blood.
Doctor comes rushing back in with another girl whose name I’ve never bothered to learn, and immediately kneels by Kylie’s side. Wrapping the cut in a compression bandage, the doctor quickly applies pressure to the wound before standing up again.
Huh, guess they like her enough not to want her to die.
“Sorry, Trainer,” I say obediently, because one, I’m not an idiot. And two, like hell will I end up in the chair for this. Fuck that.
I’m only being who they designed me to be.
But staring down at Kylie, an uneasy feeling seeps into my stomach, holding me captive. The more I watch her face contort in pain, the worse it gets.
