Gerrik Carte

No POV

It was a coarse, rainy day. The rain was not as threatening as the deafening thunder. For normal people, it would have been impossible to stand in an empty field, spreading as wide as your eyes could see, in such a day. Yet, children barely of age were standing without any commotion. Their uniform and dead eyes represented the collectiveness of their country’s will that they were force to carry, while rejecting their individualism.

“Children,” A lone instructor screamed at the top of his voice. He too wore the same uniform and dead look on his face, as of bored of the job he had in hand.

“No, from today you are no longer children! You are all soldiers for the empire. You had names in the past. Names that made you an individual of the country. But from today that ends. Your name has been stripped and from today you all shall be collectively called hornets. You gave your name away for the country. Now as the country’s soldiers you will be trained. We picked you because you are the elite of the elites. Here you will be trained to be even better. Few of you will survive this training. But those of you who do, know that you will regain your identity once you graduate. You will be registered as a human of the empire. You will be able to fight for the empire and meet people who you will very likely be calling comrades. So make sure to train hard and survive. And remember it is all for the empire!”

As soon as the man finished his speech, the children under his care started their training. There were thirty of them, fifteen boys and fifteen girls, picked up from various parts of the empire. Some were simply picked up from the slums, while others were sent by their noble houses to take part in this program. But from their deadpanned looks none of them wanted to be here. No amount of glory or monetary gain was worth over losing their childhood. Yet here they were forced to be rats for an empire they did not even know much about.

The training was simple yet ruthless. It was an uniform repeat of various radio calisthenics, jogging and sparring followed by one on one teachings from the instructor and his comrades. The food they were given was numbered and bland. Apparently it was designed to give the young soldiers all the nutrients and calories they would need every day at the lowest possible cost.

Their headquarters was under the ground of the empty field, something all the children were expressing awe on when they first arrived here. They were each given separate rooms with bunks to sleep on and a toilet that would be shared between the 30 thirty soldiers. The headquarters was separated into various facilities, from the residential areas to a research centre where the children would be tested once every week to administer certain drugs and test their capabilities.

Their instructor, Gerrik Carte, the man with the deadpanned eyes was always bored and uninterested. The only exception was when he was having a one on one training with the soldiers. Gerrik was a lieutenant in the army with uncanny abilities. And most of all Gerrik loved to bully the weak. When he would spar or teach the trainees, he would always go harsh on them reprimanding them on the simplest mistakes while beating the trainee helping him with the demonstration. Even the fairer gender was not spared from his bullying.

“Pick your weapon soldier,” Gerrik Carte commanded with a serious tone, hiding his sadistic nature, to one of the trainees he had chosen that day to tutor. The trainee was one of the younger boys in the program barely thirteen. His body was thin but fit due to the training and diet regime of the army. He picked up a wooden sword and took a stance. He knew he was to be the lamb today but he did not complain. The sooner he was done, the lesser pain he would feel.

They soon began their ‘sparring’ which was more of Gerrik beating the boy with his sword while the boy tried to evade it. All the while they fought, Gerrik was laughing like a child who was playing with his toy. However his expressions would show a subtle annoyance whenever the boy evaded him.

Soon the boy fell until he could no longer stand.

“Chee, You have a lot to learn, soldier. Make sure to clean up the training chambers. Someone of your aptitude would never survive this program.” Gerrik leaves after having his fun.

The boy picks himself up, ignoring the pain aching all over his body and slowly picks up a rag at one corner of the chamber that would be used to clean the weapons used today. He fills a bucket of water from the outside and cleans the floors of the training room of his blood. He wanted to cry but he knew crying was not tolerated. If he cried now, the trainers would pick it up from the cameras and later reprimand him harshly.

He patiently finished the cleaning and left for his quarters. Once he was safe in his bed, under the covers- he cried. He cried a silent auspicious cry that for all the hardships he was going through.

Lear POV

“So we should look for our next target right? Who should it be this time?” I ask with a stack of photos in my hand.

“It is all your choice, I am just a ‘quack doctor’ who faked his own degrees and prescribes meaningless drugs unless you mess with them.” The doctor complains, “Is that not the case Lear?”

I look through the stack and smile after seeing a photo.

“It is time we killed someone for personal reasons is not it?” I throw him the photo of the person I chose.

He looks at me with surprised eyes and a gaping mouth that wanted to say something but could not find the accurate words. I keep on smiling while thinking of my past.