Static Movements

Prologue

Age 5

Number 11565 followed the line of children to the dimly lit room that they were being lead to. His hand was being held tightly by his twin sister, number 11566, and was close to being crushed.

The then 5 year old scrunched up his eyes in an attempt to see as far as he could. It was no use of course but that didn't stop number 11565 from trying to peep around the other children. For that, he got a sharp tap on his curly head.

Five minutes later number 11565 was stood in line and another five minutes later all the small children were collected in the room. Number 11565 was in the front row along with his sister. They were stood right in the middle, a place doomed from years previously.

A man walked to the centre of the stage area in front of the children. He had cold blue eyes and a clean shaven face. His shoes were shined to perfection and his uniform was spotless.

"Good day children," he said. "I'm your Trainer and that is what I will be known as, are we clear?"

The children mumbled, intimidated by the Trainer.

"I said, are we clear?" his voice echoed throughout the room.

"Yes," the majority of the children muttered, except from a few on the back row and number 11566.

The Trainer jumped down from the stage and stalked toward a small, brown haired girl on the front row.

"Who are you girl?" the Trainer asked.

"Number 11566, S-Sir," the girl stumbled over her words.

"Come up on the stage 11566," the Trainer tore her hand away from her brother and lifted her onto the stage.

"Stand over there," the Trainer pointed to a spot on the stage and the girl complied. She sent nervous glances to her brother.

"Now children, this is what happens when you fail to answer questions or disobey orders." 

The Trainer quickly whipped out a gun, aimed and shot number 11566. She took her last breath as she fell to the floor. A direct hit to the brain.

"We clear?"

"Yes," the children chorused, in perfect unison.

Number 11565 remembered this day for years to come. The gun was his favorite weapon.

Age 8

And jump out of the way, over the head. Perfect stance, on the balls of his feet. Ready for another attack. Knife held out in front, warning his opponent.

His opponent thrust her knife forward not even catching his shirt. He ran forward dodging attacks from her knife waving wildly and stabbed her in the chest. He felt no remorse, after all, he was the best in the class.

"And number 11565 wins, congratulations! You may keep your life."

Number 11565 left the body on the floor but kept her knife. You never knew in a place like this what could come around any corner. He'd won this year but he had to train for next year.

And the next year.

And the next year.

Age 13

Fists ready. No weapons against weapons. Number 11565 against number 11587. And yet, each of them knew who was going to win.

The klaxon.

Go, go, go!

Machete held high and number 11565 was ready. Number 11587 practically flew toward the other lad. And 11565 dodged the first blow by jumping and rolling out of the way.

Second blow. Number 11587 has no chance.

Third blow. The machete touched number 11565's arm drawing blood.

Last blow from number 11587. Number 11565 had grabbed the weapon and sliced straight through his opponent's skin.

Death was inevitable. He'd won, again.

Age 15

Step.

I'll blow his brains out.

Step.

No mercy.

Step.

For my sister.

Step.

Always.

Shoot!

The gun bucked. And number 11523 was too slow. Number 11565 had claimed another life.

Age 17

"Ready?" the Trainer asked him.

"As always," 11565 replied, collecting his precious weapons.

All his life had been leading up to this moment. Him against another. To survive. To become the best there had ever been.

"Good," the Trainer allowed 11565 to lead the way.

Fighting. Violence. This way, that way.

Bang, bang, bang.

Winner. Loser. Live. Die.

11565 accepted his mission.

Daniel James Howell had been born. And he was going to help a man named John Green.

Because if he didn't, well, who knows what would've happened.

.

.

I'm updating okay? Stfu

So erm yeah, good old Danyul's backstory.

Another credit to Megara220900 bc she made the cover for this and robotic moments

Credit to Roger

G'bye