『"They call her '𝒴𝑒𝓊𝓇𝒾' or say she's one."』✰
『"Why?"』
『"Because you can't see her, she's a ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ.』✰
Started on: 14 /05/23
REWRITTEN ON: 27/10/23
Finished on: ??
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Yeuri The name of a calm female Ghost, who can be aggressive when triggered.
༺♥༻
"Get up, soldier! You came here to train, not to take a damn nap!" Price's voice boomed across the training ground, aimed at me as I struggled to maintain my focus.
Today marked a training session for every rookie and recruit within the base, with Price taking charge as the instructor. While it was typically the responsibility of the base Lieutenant, having Price at the helm was just as well-received, if not better.
The training field was a mix of triumphs and struggles. Some soldiers gave in to exhaustion, collapsing or experiencing heat strokes under the demanding sun. However, amongst the troops, it was me who had taken my place at the front of the group. Despite moments of tripping, self-inflicted mishaps, and occasional cuts, I pushed myself to keep moving. My determination remained unshaken, although my pace had noticeably slowed due to the lack of proper nutrients. It's because the base foods sucks, it's like rats ate from it and puked it all up, well, not always..
"Get on your bloody A-game today, Yamür. You're not going anywhere until you master this training, do you hear me!?" Price's voice was more demanding than his usual self, and I couldn't help but feel that he still viewed me with suspicion, despite our shared history, he can still call himself a captain with the feeling embarrassment about me.
Price, Laswell, and Shepherd, they all know what I'm capable of, but there's always this lingering doubt, a lingering suspicion that I might be a spy or a traitor. It's frustrating and honestly a bit stupid, why the hell would you be suspicious about me yet recruit me at the same time.. Something in my gut tells me somethings wrong, yet i can't put my finger on it.
I continued to run through the obstacle course, the sound of my pants brushing against my legs was as loud as a shouting voice in my head. I approached a log, leaping over it with the agility of a cat, trying to push myself beyond my limits so the captain would be off of my ass.
Amid the chaos of the training ground, the only sounds that truly registered were my thoughts and the rhythmic pattern of my own breathing. Every jump, every step was a calculated move to overcome the obstacles. Grasping a rough rope, I felt an acute sting in my hands as they rubbed against the coarse fibers of the ropes that dug into my skin which always caused my hands to het calloused. I couldn't help but let out a hiss through gritted teeth, as the pain was a reminder of the effort I was putting in just to please these fuckers.
By now, my body bore the marks of my training. Cuts and bruises adorned my skin, with dirt and sand becoming a part of me. My hands were scraped from countless falls and climbing efforts. There was dirt trapped under my nails, and a couple of them had chipped and broken in the process, they say beauty is pain but this was making me uglier with pain.. This was the price I was unwillingly to pay for mastering the training, no matter how tough it got, even in the burning hot sun..
