A Modern Myth

Chapter 6

Days grew fast, and nights longer. Thoughts and poisonous mirages plagued his mind. Constantly on alert as he lay on his back. On guard, waiting for an attack.

It has been months, how many? He wasn't sure. Time wasn't necessary for The Compound. Well, the morning was. He would be woken up at the crack of dawn, up and at it with training. From first aid to tactical response. Everything, like a boot camp, but a lot stricter. You thought the Army was tough, or the Special Forces? Nothing compared to the strain, endurance, overload, and challenges these children had to face everyday. No breaks, if you wanted a drink? You had to work for it.

Faults and mistakes were made, bruises rose, and bones were broken. Blood was spilled, and screams were heard. Suffering, and yet he'd continue to rise above. Nickolai wasn't going to let them take him down, he wasn't going to let them win.

He was being tested, and he was smarter and stronger than they realized. Even with the constant and undying bullying and torment; it strengthened him. Each curse word, or smack to the back of his head. He held in the anger, the pit of rage bubbling in his stomach and held it in. One day, they'd learn their lesson.

Just like The Governor would. He hadn't forgotten about her, No.

Nickolai's birthday passed, and there was no celebration; that day was the worst for him. The darkest, a reminder of his dreadful parents and why he was here in the first place. Seven years, and so much more suffering in this hell he had to call home.

Nickolai's eyes were sharp, ears strong and his aim deadly. He was their best marksman, even better than Tyler, their eagle; their sniper. Regularly hitting the targets, and beating everyone with his swift movements and modified compound bow.

Of course, this didn't happen straight away. Countless days, weeks and months, Nickolai missed and shot so far off target the laughter grew. Other days, he was swatted with each miss, until he got it right and precise. Bruised and aching bones, yet he persevered further. More than the others. While they lay asleep at night, Nickolai continued to practice beneath the cleansing moonlight. Pushing himself, and proving to them he can do it.

From the snap of the shooting spring to the broken lower limb of his compound bow; he carried himself and his bow through it all. Constructing and fixing any issue he stumbled across and making sure he and his bow worked together to eliminate any task thrown at them.

The Squad continued to grow more frustrated, no more than their Shadow, Syrus. Sparring with him, Nickolai would take him down in such a flurry of fists and dance moves. Even with his success, he had his weakness, and they all knew them, unfortunately.

Nickolai wasn't wasting his time; as they were. They'd be rough with one another after training sessions, or they sleep and eat – rinse and repeat. Other than that, they didn't do much else; they'd be on the computers playing games or surfing the internet – at least, what they could access.

Reading soon became easier with the help of his one-on-one time with his personal tutor every passing day, and he'd read every book he could find in their small library opposite the Cafeteria.

Focusing on Martial Arts, and even meditation. Nickolai researched everything he could to make sense of everything.

Why? To prove everyone wrong. He wasn't what they claimed him to be. He wasn't the failure they lead him to believe.

Praise was never an option, cheering was never something they'd receive and compliments? No such thing. If you did well, you just did well, and it took no notice. However; if you failed, fell or missed a target. You'd know about it. Screams and yelling from The Captain, how much of a failure you are to yourself and your team. How useless you are. All the things, Nickolai already knew about himself. Sometimes, depending on The Captain's mood; it would take a lot more than the stern barks from his mouth.