Born from the Ash

Chapter 7 - Monday

Bonita awoke to her head on EJ's lap, who she noticed was either wide awake and staring at her or the low growling sound coming from him was that he was asleep. And was snoring.

"EJ...?"

The dark-gray skinned figure looked up, gazing at Bonita through its empty, hollow eye sockets. "Yes?"

"Did you just... Snore?" Bonita snickered, barely able to control the laugh threatening to escape.

"No... I was wide awake!" The figure hissed, resisting the urge to facepalm himself. He had fallen asleep a few minutes ago when the sun was starting to rise. 

"Mhmm, sure." Bonita snickered, groggily sitting up.

"Glad to see you're better," EJ replied, getting up after her and walking out of the room. "You also have training with Helen today. I suggest you bring some sort of weapons like a knife or something."

Bonita rose an eyebrow, before shrugging it off and pulling on a hoodie and tights. Who said tights couldn't be worn as pants?

After she had finished training and had grabbed a small pocketknife, she walked out the door.

---

Once outside, she saw Helen waiting patiently.

"Hey, Helen." She waved, before walking over. She was just barely able to get out of the way of a knife flying in her direction from Helen.

"While training, it is Bloody Painter. We will have no kind gestures, just training. I'll be teaching you a few techniques with knives and stuff." He rose an eyebrow as he spoke, almost disappointed with how the knife almost caught her in between the eyes. "And I don't want to have to carry you to the infirmary today."

"Okay, not scary at all." Bonita laughed, before pulling her pocketknife out from her pocket. "So what's first?"

"Let's see what you know already first, and work from there." After that, Helen charged straight towards Bonita.

Bonita was in a moment too late of shock, and a deep gash was cut down her right arm. Hissing in pain, she switched open her switchblade and charged back at him, and slammed the blade into his shoulder.

Helen cried out in pain, caught off guard by her attack. "Good. Try fighting me head-on and avoiding my attacks as best as you can."

And with that, Helen turned around and went to slash at her legs, which Bonita was almost narrowly given a gash deep enough to bleed her out in seconds. All that was there was a moderately sized laceration, gushing blood down her leg and soaking into her gray pants.

Bonita took the opportunity to swing her blade back at Helen, pretending to be aiming for the throat. When Helen went to block his weak point, she turned directions and stabbed the arm holding his blade.

Helen, with a hiss of pain, dropped his weapon and clutched at his bleeding arm. And in a swift motion, Bonita had gotten behind Helen and had her switchblade pressed against his throat, her free hand used to pin his arms against his chest.

"Gotcha." She smiled, before releasing him.

"Good. Do you know how to throw your knives, though?" Helen questioned, before grabbing his blade in his other hand and tossing it at a tree nearby, piercing the bark with a loud thud.

"Never have thrown a knife, but I'm willing to learn a few tricks." She smiled, before trying to mimic how Helen had positioned his hand.

"No, raise your wrist slightly and tuck it backward, to where the tip of the knife faces behind you. And with a quick motion, flick your wrist forward and release when the tip of the blade meets your target." Helen instructed, moving her wrist into the correct position and letting her do as instructed.

With a soft clunk, her blade bounced off the curve of the tree and landed at its roots.

"It takes practice, but you'll get there."

And so, for the remainder of the day, she practiced throwing different types of blades at the tree.

"You are not leaving today until you can get all blades to puncture that tree," Helen ordered, standing back to watch.

Bonita grunted and tried again and again for hours until finally, she got the last blade into the tree.

"We're done for today. Right on time, too. We've been here for hours, starting at 5:30 AM and finishing just at the stroke of 9, so in-time for dinner." Helen waved Bonita off, who quickly scampered inside to get something to eat while Helen cleaned up.

"Hopefully, we can fend him off for good. Or for just a little while. Even  for a few years, it would be a great thing." He muttered, before returning inside.

Tomorrow would be an equally long training day.