I Am A Flyer

Fight

The next few days were all the same: a blur of agony. Each day consisted of getting up at the crack of dawn, eating a quick breakfast, and then torture. Raven stood by and watched menacingly as Jett did the stupid exercise all day long.

It wasn't until the end of the week, that he started to realize that the pole exercise actually did something.

His legs still hurt, he was exhausted, and he felt like collapsing. But he had finished a whole hour earlier than he had yesterday. And it was still light out. Jett felt like rejoicing, like shouting his glee up at the sky.

He was surprised and happy that he actually completed all two hundred laps this quickly. It was great! In fact, while yesterday he had been tired and sore even before he began, this morning was different. He woke up feeling just fine - well, perhaps a bit sore, but he hadn't been all that tired.

Yes, Jett was feeling pleased with himself, even if it was just a stupid exercise to start with. And then Raven stepped in, and destroyed all happiness.

"Good," he said. "And tomorrow, you'll add on another fifty."

"What?" Jett wailed, whirling to glare at the flyer. "But it hasn't even been a full week! It's only been four days!"

"Five," Raven corrected smugly. "And tomorrow is a Sunday. The start of a new week. So there you go."

Jett wanted to kick him. For the first time in his life, he seriously wanted to harm another human being. Besides, he reasoned, Raven could hardly be considered human in the first place. He was more like a monster, anyway. And he deserved it.

"Now," Raven suddenly said, becoming all serious. "We've got just over an hour left until dark. So let's play a game, shall we?"

A. . .game?

All Jett wanted to do was go to bed. He was tired, he was hungry, and he didn't want to be here!! If life were perfect, he'd just go to bed, have a nice sleep, and when he woke up, he would start running. And he wouldn't stop until he reached the Putarc forest.

But that was impossible because of two reasons. One: the annoying thing on his arm. Two: the annoying, horrible monster standing in front of him. And because of those two, he would be forever trapped in this nightmare, unless he could make them disappear.

Jett flopped down onto the ground, feeling irritable. Why couldn't he just go to bed? He finished earlier, so he should just go to bed early, right? "I don't want to," he mumbled.

"Oh?" Raven's voice suddenly dropped to a frigid temperature, and Jett suddenly felt like he was suffocating. Probably because the flyer was right in his face, staring at him with dark, dangerous violet eyes that whispered of death.

Jett was on his feet pretty fast, feeling miserable because he was such a coward, and couldn't withstand the slightest amount of intimidation. "What kind of game?" He warily asked.

Raven suddenly grinned. "Tag!" he exclaimed. He took a rapid, blurred step to Jett, and beamed. "And you're it!" With that, he delivered a powerful punch to Jett's gut. The poor boy dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach.

Looking up, he saw Raven watching from a short distance away. The flyer held up an open hand. "Five seconds," he said. "You've got five seconds to get up and start moving. The way this game works, I keep coming after you until you can tag me." He folded his thumb against his palm. "Four seconds."

Wasn't the 'it' person supposed to go after the others, instead of the other way around?

Another finger went down, leaving only three up. Three seconds left. Jett stumbled to his feet. Two seconds. He took a hesitant step away from Raven, watching the flyer warily. One second.