Inversion

Bruises

About an hour later we were all covered in that black sludge and reeking to high heaven of formaldehyde and rotten flesh, trudging to the locker rooms to wash ourselves off and change clothes before P.E. I looked down at my hands, I had washed them in class but they were deeply stained black, and my clothes were completely ruined, Professor Eir hadn't been exaggerating.

It was a good thing we had Jared in our group or we would have still been at it like a few of the other groups, one of which hadn't even managed to find the Shard yet, let alone the heart. You wouldn't think finding a creature's heart would be hard, but you would be dead wrong. It had been difficult, messy, disgusting and dreadfully smelly, almost enough to make me forget about Ragnarok, which isn't something I suspect most college freshman have to worry about.

“That was pretty interesting,” Jared said cheerfully, his only response from the group being a chorus of groans, “I'm not looking forward to Phys Ed though. Athletics aren't my strong suit.”

“You kidding me Jared? That's the only class I've been wanting to go to all day, I hate studying ancient runes and dissecting nasty ass monsters. Hopefully we're playing like baseball or football or something,” Devin replied excitedly.

Of course he would want to go to Phys Ed. I mean, between his blonde hair and all-American good looks and the fact that he looked like he was born on the 50 yard line at a football stadium, why wouldn't he? I, on the other hand, was not thrilled. I was worn out, hung over, and covered in monster guts. Not to mention I was about as athletic as a young George Lucas. Judging by our other classes, I was fairly sure we weren't going to be playing games. I mean fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if they had us fight each other to the death or something.

Annnnnnnd, they had us fight each other. Not to the death though, so I guess that's one thing.

“Alright kids, welcome to Physical Education!” the instructor called out to the students lined up in neat rows on the grass field outside the common area, he was strolling along the ranks and inspecting each student as he went, it felt like we were being sized up like livestock at an auction, “Although there aren't many impressive physical specimens here,” he continued, then stopped in front of an exceptionally tall and muscular student giving him an appreciative nod, “With a few notable exceptions, I think we can make good progress in the coming weeks and get you in fighting shape.”

He stopped in front of me and looked me up and down, a look of visible disgust on his absurdly good looking face, “I've been told to expect big things from you. But now that I've seen you, I think the old man's finally lost what little marbles he had left,” he said to me with a sneer, then spit on the ground and continued walking down the row,

“I am Rick Thornton, and I'm no 'professor' so don't ever call me that. I am your Coach. You can call me Coach, Coach Rick, Coach Thornton, or you can just shut the fuck up and get to work. I want you to be so tired that you don't even know your own name, let alone mine. I want you to leave this class feeling like you'd rather be dead, and if you don't pay attention you might just get your wish.” At the end of his spiel he blew his whistle and continued,

“Each two names I call out will be paired off to practice hand to hand combat. This is not sparring. You will get hurt. We will be doing three minute rounds with three minute breaks for the whole period. If you get tired, suck it up and keep going. If you can't keep going, keep going or I will make you keep going. Understood? Good, here are the pairings,” he said and then started rattling off names. I was so in shock I barely managed to catch the name of my partner, Nanashi, A. I just hoped it wasn't that big guy from earlier, but knowing my luck it probably was. I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Aria behind me with a strange look on her face.