Hey, y'all! Sorry for not posting in awhile, but sickness, school, sleep, etc. etc... Welp, I hope you all enjoy! Oh, and thanks for reading these short stories! Previous Chapter~ https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/197146886?showBanned=0&path=0 [b][u]The Disgraced III[/u][/b] "What the hell?" He muttered, awaking to a cold, metal room. His bunk was still the same, but all the furniture had been removed. He rubbed his eyes blearily. "Rise and shine, mother-blam!-er." A singsong voice said, and ice water splashed down the back of his pajamas. "WHAT THE HELL?" He shouted, whipping around to see Heather standing with a now empty bucket. "Hell isn't always fire." She muttered, clicking her tongue. "Get up. It's time for breakfast." She exited his room. He groaned, and followed her out the door. His wet feet plodded along the tiled floor, a significant change from the carpeted area he had walked on last night. [i]This is strange.[/i] He thought, continuing down the corridor. ______________________________ Breakfast turned out to be cold 'oatmeal' and plastic tasting eggs, drowned by water; all happily served by Jessie. "What happened to the lounge?" He asked, choking down his oatmeal and surveying the cold, grey cinderblock walls of the cafeteria. Heather chuckled from where she was leaning against the wall. "What lounge? No lounge exists here in Southern Canada." His jaw dropped. "But... Then.... Wait a sec..." Felix swore he could see the hunter smirk under her glass veil and hood. "Yeah, we drugged you and flew you out here for your base training." "That's cold." He groaned, shoving away his plate. "And this food sucks." "You're welcome!" Jessie hollered from the kitchen. He turned to Hans, who was eating impassively next to him. "Hans, why did you guys do this?" Hans snapped angrily around, LED eyes glowing maliciously. "Are you -blam!-ing kidding me rookie? You call me ‘sir’. Understand?” Felix's jaw opened to make a witty reply, then thought better of it. He turned to Heather. "Is there something wro-" "Fifty push ups. Now." She snapped. "What for?" He questioned, tilting his head. Suddenly, she was lifting him up by his collar and choking him. "Fifty. Push. Ups. That slow enough for your mind to comprehend?" She growled, and let him drop. Wordlessly he began to do push ups. [i]Everyone was so nice before...[/i] He complained to himself. A boot pressed into the back of his head, keeping him to the floor, and he grunted. "I will count. Not you, filthy maggot." |================| Felix collapsed to the floor, panting. "What the hell is this shit?" He gasped. Heather's mask stared down at him evilly. “This is boot camp. And so far, you are failing.” She thrust a sheet of paper towards him, which he took begrudgingly. It was a schedule. [i]Felix Vonswitch: Training Schedule 4:30AM- 15 mile run {If failure to complete task by 5:00AM, administer sugar cookie} 5:00AM- Equipment inspection 5:35AM- Arms Training w/ Tom Bancroft 9:00AM- Breakfast 9:30AM- Drills w/ Jessie Farcry 1:00PM- Lunch 1:45PM- Strategy w/ Hansen-4 5:00PM- Criminal Psychology w/ Heather 8:00PM- Dinner, break time, sparring, etc. 10:30PM- Mandatory Return to Barracks[/i] He gulped. “Wait, then what do I do today?” “You get yelled at, mostly.” Jessie yelled, still in the kitchen. “First off,” Heather began pacing the room. “You will address us as ‘sir’ at all times. Your quarters will be inspected daily, and if not, punishment will ensue.” “Sir, with all due respect, I’m basically a guardian.” Felix stated. “No, you’re not. You’re Disgraced. We are better than guardians.” She said vehemently, with surprising venom. “Guardians take life for granted, knowing they have others and their ghosts to revive them.” Her mask stared coldly into his eyes. “Frankly, they don’t know how to survive. They know how to shoot little four armed things.” There was a woosh of air and suddenly a knife was grazing his ear and thudding into the wall behind him. “We know how to shoot, stab, and kill [i]humans.[/i] “But… but humans are our future! Sir!” He yelped, feeling warm blood run down his neck. “They are. But they don’t always take it like that. Guardians… they spend so much time parading around Venus and Mars they don’t realize all the shit that’s going down in the city itself.” She spat, drawing another throwing knife from her belt and twirling it. “Sir, what’s so bad that’s going on in the City?” Felix asked. She gave a harsh chuckle. “Exactly. Guardian’s don’t pay attention to his stuff.” Heather pulled back the right side of her hood, exposing dozens of tiny scratch marks. No- not dozens- [i]hundreds[/i], barely visible. “This is how many people I’ve killed while on this job. Last time I counted, it was over 500. And you know what?” Felix gulped. “They were all criminals. Drug dealers, rapists, human traffickers, thieves, murderers, black-market exo-part dealers.” She turned away and stared out a window, at the slow snow that was falling. “It gets easier, you know. It’s always hard the first time; just one bullet to the head. But it’s just one person! We all tell ourselves. But one turns into ten, then twenty…” She flipped the knife up in the air, caught it in her other hand and threw it at Hans, who caught it mere centimeters before it entered his skull. “Sir… you all are psychos.” He could’ve sworn Heather smirked underneath her helmet. “Don’t worry, we only kill the people who are [i]really[/i] bad. And even so, we’re not psychos, we’re survivors.” |================| Felix flipped the safety off on his gun, focusing on his target. The paper outline of a person stared blankly at him. “Focus. Don’t aim, point.” Heather instructed lazily. After breakfast, he had followed her to the Disgraced’s armory; which consisted of hundreds of weapons, some even pre-golden age. She had handed him a simple pistol and lead him to the shooting range, where he was now. He took his eye off sights of the gun and stared at the target’s head. “Yes sir.” [i]This is just like a golden gun.[/i] He thought, pulling the trigger rapidly. Three shots echoed throughout the shooting range, then three more as he snapped out of his daydream. “Stand down.” Heather snapped, marching over to where he was. He crossed his fingers as she looked at his target. “⅚ Rookie.” She stated, and he fist pumped. She shook her head. “But the target was wearing a juggernaut suit, which takes nine shots from that pistol in a concentrated area to break through.” She took the gun from him and handed it Hans. “Show him.” “Finally, some action!” Hans grunted, reloading the pistol lightning fast and taking up Felix’s place. Six shots, a brief pause, and three more shots. Felix stared at the paper. “But sirs, there is only seven shots on the paper.” Hans laughed. “Go look at it, rookie.” In disbelief he walked over to the paper target, spotting a large hole in the figure’s forehead. “Wait… you mean…” He whispered, poking his finger through it. He turned back to them. “He put nine shots in the same place that fast?....Sirs?” Hans nodded gruffly. Felix’s gaze turned to Heather. “Sir, with all due respect, When are you guys going to stop showing off?” He complained. She tilted her hooded face to the side. “I don’t recall showing off. The stuff we’ve shown you so far is maybe 5% of our skill sets.” She walked over to the weapon rack. “Soon enough, you’ll be able to square up with us.” “How soon, sir?” “Five months.” _________________________ Next Chapter~ (coming soon! hopefully...)