mutated

chapter seven: i might have accidentally signed us up for boot camp. oops?

Being knocked out wasn't on my bucket list.

Being drugged wasn't on my bucket list either.

But guess what? It was the second time they both happened. Hip hip hooray for me, I guess.

Oh, and for everybody else too. They all got kidnapped as well.

Wait, did I forget to mention that? I guess I did. Yeah. We all got kidnapped.

Fun times, ain't it?

Anyways, it had all started when I was about to open the door to the form room, and I was knocked out. I wasn't sure what had hit me, but I was guessing it was a fire hydrant of some sorts. Ouch.

Even in my unconscious state, I did realize something clicking around my neck, and that was the last thought I had before I actually drifted into the unconsciousness. When I had woken, I felt sore all over, and for once, it was like everything was silent.

I looked around, only to see the rest of my class lined up neatly on the floor, and when I reached out with my mind, I felt nothing. Wiggling myself upright, I put a hand to my throat, only to find some sort of collar around it with a blinking blue light. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, and it was only then I realized we were in some sort of white room.

A man, or more accurately, a boy, walked in. He had dark brown hair that framed his face perfectly. Little strands poked here and there on his face, and even though it was messy, it was still undeniably attractive. What drew the most attention to him were his eyes. They were dark blue with specks of green in them, reflecting all the wonders of the ocean. But the thing about them was that they didn't shine with any hint of happiness. The beautiful eyes were dark with some unfathomable emotion, but still captivating enough to drown you. He had a tall nose and a strong jawbone, and I looked up at him.

He was built pretty well physically, standing at about 5'10, with lean muscles. He probably only looked that attractive because I spent most of my school life surrounded by ogres and trolls, but still, he wasn't really my type. First off, he was about 16 years old. I am not into older men. Secondly, I wasn't even looking for any type of romantic relationship. Honestly, we're thirteen. Why on earth were any people our age even dating?

He wore the same clothes Chase had worn when he attacked us, with the black combat pants and boots with thigh sheaves, a tight-fitting bulletproof vest and sleeves, and black gloves. He also held a black helmet/mask under his arm, the same type the attacker had worn. Honestly, it reminded me a bit of Deathstroke

"Hello, class. I am your new teacher-" the man started, and I recognized the voice immediately. It was Chase.

"Hello, Chase. You could have given me a little heads-up." I cut him off. "Before you, you know, knocked me out."

"Snappy as always, Jade." He shot back. "As your friend Jade said, my name is Chase. Chase Hunt, but you may address me as Buzzard. For the next few weeks, I am going to be your trainer, alongside Hawk and Owl."

Two other people walked in, these two much older than Chase, probably about 22 years old. The taller one, probably Phoebe, or Hawk, I guess, from the fact that she gave the vibe of the receptionist that always answered the phone, had black hair weaved into a braid and dark-framed glasses. She had a small nose and eyes, and her lips were pursed together like the sight of us displeased her.

The shorter one, Owl, was the opposite. Her hair was cut short at her shoulders, and had been dyed a light brown at the ends, sort of like Janet van Dyne from Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Her lips were curled into a smile, and she had big sparkling brown eyes, but underneath her eyes were bags, evidence that she was the telepathic friend Chase had spoken of.