The Gifted

Mentors

(Jake above^)

Carmen's POV***

"Do I make myself clear?" Heart repeats more firmly, frowning slightly. Intense can't even describe the atmosphere around us. Heart is way more intimidating than she looks. 

I blink a couple more times before saying yes. So much has happened today, the trials, waking up in the medical wing, this. I wonder what else today has in store.

Heart passes her gaze over each of us multiple times. I start fidgeting, nervously. Jeez... I can't imagine anyone getting passed her as my body guard. She's so much different here than she was in the office. I wonder why that is.

We make eye contact once more and her whole demeanor shifts. Talk about bipolar. Once again she's smiling, "Alright! Now that that's out of the way, we're going to get you measured. The Elites have a special outfit you have to wear when we travel to events. As your status grows when you level up as an assassin, your outfit will get more extravagant. As usual, the top ten people who stayed, will have their rank embedded into their uniform.

"While you're being measured, you'll be given a form to fill out that helps me fix you a mentor. There are many different types of assassins, so your personality, attitude, power, and strength will determine the area you'll officially be placed in." She emphases this by waving her hands around. She clasps her hands together, "Phew, so much to say. You all have your own little room where you'll get changed for practice when we meet. Your rooms have your first name initial and current ranking number so not to get confused. Please, before I die from loss of air, go get measured." She points to the building where the left platform people just disappeared into.

I walk to the building. It's connected to the arena, so instead of being a small square room, it's more like a hallway with doors leading off to the sides. The hallway is very long, probably winding around the arena itself. I pass several doors with a wide variety of letters and numbers. After passing at least twenty-three doors, I finally find mine. Just like Heart said, it's labeled with C1. 

It almost feels like an actor's changing room, except it's about the size of a small walk-in-closet. Other than that, it's got everything I could possibly need. A full-length mirror, a clothes hanging rack, a very small wooden desk with a black stool, and a small stack of papers. Not to mention there's already a person waiting in the room for me. I think her name was Lydia?

She's fairly small and lean, with vivid red hair in a high ponytail. She watches me, tapping her pen against her clipboard, waiting. Once I'm completely in the room with the door closed, she takes over. "Hi! I'm Lydia and I'll be taking your size measurements. I believe my mother already briefed you, but I'll tell you some more anyway."

I can immediately tell that she's hyper. Without even asking she raises my arms up, measuring my waist, arms, upper chest, my height, and my legs. She writes things down periodically, "Ok so, the stack of papers on your desk is the application you need to fill out, a list of rules and expectations you should read over, and a manual of sorts describing the different types of assassins. I'll help you fill out the application in a moment, but I have to ask some questions about your current health."

I nod following along the best I can. Now she's sitting at my desk getting ready to write, "What's your shoe size? Your weight? How about your last check up, do you have all your shots?"

Holy... "Uhhh, my shoe size is eight, I do have all my shots, my last check up was today, and I'm one-twenty-five pounds. I didn't know Heart was your mom." I stand in the middle of the room fiddling with my gym shirt. 

"Yep!" She looks up smiling cheerfully. "Time for your application! All you need to do, is fill out your full name, a quick back-ground history, why you wanted to be in the Elites, and check the boxes for the different types of assassin's you're interested in. Go on, you can begin!"