I awoke in a room that resembled a gymnasium. I was in a tight black jumpsuit that gripped my body as if it was made specifically for me. I had on tight black shoes that couldn't fit my feet better, and my long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. There were no zippers or any sign of buttons on my suit, that seemed to be a part of me now. I stood up, feeling the thing grip me and forcing me to stand up straight. The room was dim and very empty, with no sign of anyone ever being there. I looked around, and noticed a video camera in the corner of the 20ft ceilings. I glared at it and looked around some more, my eye adjusting to the darkness that was all around me. I noticed shapes in the near distance, and walked cautiously up to them. They were dummies. The kind that you perform CPR on in school. I poked it and it felt real. I examined it more after dragging it from a pile of mats and rugs, and realized something that didn't surprise me as much as it should have. The dummy was made of real skin. I tossed it back into the pile with the rest of the crap and continued to walk around. Now after I had walked around more, I realized this wasn't a gymnasium, it was a training room. As if knowing I'd realize this, the lights flickered on and I stood alone, rubbing my eyes. A speaker came on.
"Stephanie?"
I looked up toward the ceilings.
"What." I spoke softly, anger showing in my voice and my stance.
"Please stand in the circle in the center of the room. Thank you." I moved quickly and stood with my chest puffed out, looking around for anything that could give me a clue as to where I was, besides the fact that this was a training room.
Finally, after minutes, a door opened that I couldn't believe I had missed. A man in a puffy suit came out with a cart full of weapons of all shapes and sizes.
I clenched my fists, waiting to see what would happen next. He walked over to me with the cart, and stopped. I looked at him in the eyes, and he looked at me. He cleared his throat.
He was young.
About 24 or 25.
He had brown spiked hair and ice blue eyes, and sharp features. His chin and his jawline were almost contoured to the rest of his tan face.
"So. Stephanie." He began.
I didn't move.
He rummaged around on the cart before pulling out a large rifle with a standoutish scope.
He did a few clicks and slides on the gun before looking through the scope and carelessly dropping it in my arms. It was heavier than I expected, and I bent my knees to support the weight. He himself, pulled out a similar gun, but in black. The suit, however seemed to be causing him problems. He walked awkwardly in it, and it resembled that of the Michelin tire man. He shook his head after a few moment s of adjusting and unzipped the suit, revealing a plain white t-shirt. Once stripped of the top half of the suit, he more comfortably aimed at the wall to check the sight.
"Alright." He spoke, placing the gun by is side and walking to set up a dummy.
"You're gonna learn to shoot this." he told me. I looked at the gun, and looked at him. He must've seen the distress in my eyes, because he smiled a gorgeous smile, and said "I'll help you I promise." My heart suddenly began pumping out of my chest as he reached for my waist to move me in front of my presumed target.
"See this scope?" He said pointing with his pinkie finger to the glassy end of the sight.
I nodded.
"Ok, lift the whole thing up, and look through that little peep." He said.
I lifted the immense weight of the gun up and closed one eye to see.
"Do you see anything?"
"Yeah" I said absently.
"Now when you're right on that dot, squeeze the trigger. Don't slam it, just ease on the weight. Like driving a car." I ignored him. He almost wasn't there. I took a deep breath. I felt as if I was the target. There was a small orange dot, and I was roughly 40 yards away. As if I didn't even know it happened, a bang went off, and the gun jammed my shoulder, as it apparently was supposed to. The man looked through the scope on his gun, and his eyebrows shot up ever so slightly.
"Good shot." He said.
I looked through my own, and realized that the entire orange dot had been punched out, left with a small bullet hole.
We practiced this for another hour or two, until he decided that I was proficient in the field.
We both sat down on the ground.
I hadn't said much. Just agreeing to his statements.
"So, you ever shot before?" he asked, obviously making small talk.
"Nope." I said, staring at my feet that were stretched out.
"You're not bad." He said, staring at my feet as well, as I swayed them back and forth.
"I'm Beau, by the way." He said, his bright blue eyes looking into mine.
I glanced down, overtaken by the intensity of his stare.
"So do you train all these girls?" I asked.
"Nah. Each girl gets their own trainer. It's a weird system." He said with an inappropriate chuckle.
I shot a look at him.
"What are they doing with us?" I asked with a serious tone.
He looked away and scratched his nose.
"Look, you're a cool girl. And-" I cut him off.
"If you're not going to tell me, then just don't talk." I said standing up.
"Look, Stephanie." He said standing up as well. He was tall. About 6'3. I had to look up to talk to him.
I turned around to face him and he just stood there.
He seemed to look all around my face, until his eyes settled on my lips.
"I think training is over for the day." He said, whipping around and packing up the stuff he had come in with.
I stood there as he walked away, and I saw the glance he snuck before the door shut and the lights shut off.
