Outcast: A Gaster Story [Discontinued]

Chapter 1

“Sam! Are you done yet?” A gruff voice yells from downstairs, as I huff and pant. Slowly, I push myself from the ground, skin cold with sweat.

“Yes, sir!” I call back, wiping my face with a nearby towel, already wet from previous attempts to clear my skin of moisture. “I’ll be down in a minute.” He grumbles a reply, hearing my younger brother already downstairs. A short sigh escapes my lips, as I find my usual outfit. I pull on the green pants, tucking my white shirt into them. My dog-tag lays on top of the fabric, the silencers keeping them from jingling about as I walk and move.

I walk over to a mirror, brushing my fingers through my short hair and sighing once more. “I wonder what I would look like with longer hair now…” I mumble, pausing for a moment, before walking out of my room and downstairs to the man I despise. “Good morning, sir,” I say to the older man, short, gray hair sitting atop his head with matching stubble on his face. I take a seat beside my brother, him and Dad already eating. My mother walks over, setting a bowl of oatmeal in front of me, along with scrambled eggs. “Thanks, Mom.” I smile slightly to her. She kisses my head, a smile coming to her face as well, her red hair tied back into a ponytail.  

“Good morning, Sam,” she replies, moving back to the stove. I begin to eat, the bland taste of oatmeal much too familiar with me, but, it is the only thing my father has let me and Nathan eat since before I can even remember. Strict diet, he says, along with exercise, helps keep up our form, and doesn’t weigh us down in training. Only on special occasions could either of us have something sugary, or sweet. Thanksgiving being one, along with Christmas and our birthdays. What else would you expect when your father is a decorated general?

“You seem to be getting later and later getting down here for breakfast, Sam. Is there something I need to know about?” Dad asks, looking up at me from his breakfast. His voice pulls me from my thoughts, before I shake my head, replying with a simple ‘no, sir’.

“Then, I expect you to be down here on time tomorrow. There is a schedule for a reason. You will follow it,” he replies. He is calm, but I can still hear the distaste in his voice. I can always hear it, even when Nathan and Mom can’t. Nodding, I continue to pick at my food as Nathan and Dad stand, setting their dishes in the sink. “Once you are done, grab your things and meet us outside. Another day of training with the platoon again.” I curse under my breath.

I cannot stress enough when I say that I hate training with a group. Most of them either scorn me, or hit on me. Either way, it gets on my nerves and dear father of mine doesn’t seem to care. Nathan always notices and helps get them off my back. As much as I love him, though, I wish he would stop. I don’t want my 18 year old brother helping me, a 23 year old. A 23 year old who still lives with her parents because of the military. It is more convenient if I stay here, it has nothing to do with the fact that if I left, I would have no place to go. I have never really been socialized, always homeschooled and trained on war. In other words, I can’t leave. Even if I wanted to.

“Samantha,” my mothers says, setting a hand on my shoulder, ”I know you like to daydream, but you shouldn’t keep your father waiting.” I nod slightly, smiling at her voice.

“I miss you calling me that…” I mutter. She knew better than to call me by my true name with my father around. It would just remind him on how he actually had a daughter. She exhales heavily, looking down at the kitchen tile.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I wish I could help.” I shake my head in response, standing and setting my dishes in the sink before rinsing them off. Kissing her cheek, I say my goodbyes and then walk outside. Nathan gives me a smile, sitting in the front seat of the jeep. I climb into the back, tossing the bag to the side. Dad glances at me through the mirror, before driving off to the compound. The trees pass us quickly, a large mountain dominating the horizon. Mt. Ebott.