Wattpad Block Party - Winter Edition III

tashtypes Presents: The Academy: A Death by Disney One-Shot

Hey guys!

I'm Tash, aka tashtypes (previously known as tenatheart) and welcome to my post on the block party! I'm a twenty-year-old Australian author of the 2016 watty award winner, Death by Disney (in the trailblazer category).

For this post I decided to write a one-shot! This one shot is spoiler free! Please note, I haven't written in 3rd PoV for at least 8 months now, as I'm currently working on a YA 1st PoV novel so my writing may be rough around the edges.

This one-shot takes place roughly a year before the events in Death by Disney! I present to you: The Academy. While this story is set in America, it is written in Australian/British English (i.e color is colour etc).

I ask that my lovely readers don't spoil the plot of Death by Disney.

The story before the story. The Academy follows a series of days at the training academy for the FBI. This one-shot focuses on the meeting(s) between the much loved characters of Death by Disney; Indie McAdams, Hunter Rozario, and Evie Rose.

THE ACADEMY

DAY 01

INDIE MCADAMS WAS NEVER LATE. Except on the most important day of her life. With a tangled mess of brunette hair thrown into something hardly resembling a bun and several coffee stains on her white shirt, Indie attempted to slip into room 003, the auditorium, unnoticed.

But the heavy auditorium door groaned open and Indie immediately clenched her jaw. She was screwed and going straight to hell. She could feel all eyes trained on her as Indie kept her head low, her arms gripped firmly around the strap to her satchel, and slipped into the first available seat.

It was only once she had tucked her worn leather satchel under the cheap chair she had just thrown her athletic body onto, did Indie look up to examine the room around her.

Letting out a barely audible sigh, Indie immediately sunk further down in her chair. All eyes were still on her. Her throat went dry and suddenly Indie had a quench that she knew water wouldn't be able to cure. But maybe tequila would, she thought.

A tall man — a man she vaguely remembered seeing on orientation day almost a week ago, his name on the tip of her tongue — walked across the auditorium floor, his green eyes narrowing down on her. Indie gulped. His posture, his stern facial expressions and tight lines across his forehead all screamed authority.

"Who are you?' The man's — whose name badge read Agent Newman — eyes travelled down to her coffee-stained shirt and back up again. "Why are you thirty minutes late, and where is your name badge?"

Indie's eyes widened. "I-I'm Indie McAdams...Sir. I'm sorry I was late. My flight from Boston was delayed and—"

Agent Newman raised his hand, his palm open. "You've just earned yourself an hour of physical activity after this is over, McAdams. Prepare to sweat."

Indie nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. Won't happen again. Sir."

As if things weren't bad enough, judging by the stares and whispers around her, her entire class thought she was a wimp and an easy target. The next six months would be spent trying to show she was just the opposite.

"Let's continue," Agent Newman's voice echoed around the auditorium as he turned on his heel, and strutted away. "This is group 001. The first and maybe the only group in this type of experiment. The usual entry age into the FBI Academy is twenty-three. However, those higher up in the FBI chain of command are considering lowering the entrance age. You will all be tested to your limits, pushed until you think you can't go on, and then further. This program isn't for the weak-hearted."