Rafie: Ello, ello! It's part two of Valenia's days in hitmen camp!

It was cold and all I was wearing was an old t-shirt and shorts. My boomerang hung from the case that was tied right below my left shoulder. I sat up on the rock bed, bed rock… whatever you call it. All I know is that it's not a bed. With the un-comfy-ness of it plus the unbearable cold, it's almost impossible to sleep. The time was twelve in the morning, three more hours until it was time to get up and train.

"Can't sleep, huh?" said a voice from the darkness. I shook my head.

A boy stepped into the faint light that came from outside. He looked like he was my age.

"Me neither. You're name's Valenia, right?" I nodded.

"I'm Izakiel. My parents were killed some time ago so I enrolled myself here. I've been in this place for nine months already." I nodded.

"Do you ever speak?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"'Course," I replied.

He laughed and so did I. We spent the rest of the three hours talking about nonsense like how snotty masters are and what the outside world would be like.

"Puppets of the military, that's what they'll become." he said.

"What do you mean?"

"These Altarians have a way with us, innocent slaves, you see. They brainwash us. It's like fiddling with one's conscience, making it say something like 'Follow the Altarians.' or 'Do not question those above you.' Once they're done, you'll be just another puppet, a mindless, blood-thirsty puppet of the government. You get what I mean?"

"Yeah, I think so." I looked at Isakiel and held up my pinky finger. "Promise me you won't become a puppet, Isakiel. And I promise I won't become one, either."

He smiled and took my pinky finger in his. "I promise."

Soon enough, it was three in the morning. The trumpet sounded, signaling that it was time to get up.

"Race ya." Izakiel challenged me.

"You're on."

We both dashed to the field. Izakiel was only a few inches in front of me. I ran faster, trying to catch up to him. Though in the end, he won. Yes, sir, it was another day of training. But this time, I think I've made a friend.

For the first time in days, I had so much fun. I didn't mind the pain, the fatigue – I didn't mind any of the shit Sir Frans called 'torture'. Frankly, I didn't care. And soon enough, Sir Frans gave up.

After a few more days of so called 'torture', it was my last day in Camp. I woke up at three in the morning, like everyone else did. We lined up in the training field and Sir Frans stood before us. "A hitman should be fast. A hitman should be clever. A hitman should not hesitate to kill. A hitman should do his or her job – and do it well. Am I right?" he turned to stare at each and every one of us.

"YES, SIR." we all said.

"A hitman who cannot kill is no hitman at all."

"YES, SIR."

"What is the date today?"

"DECEMBER 31st, SIR."

"Right, it's everyone's last day here. All who pass the last exam will go on and become hitmen of the government. Failing the last exam means death."

I stared at Sir Frans, mouth agape. He smiled and continued on speaking. "I'm not using any stupid metaphors. For the last exam, the gates will be locked tight, the electric fences will be activated, and a whole table full of weapons will be laid out just for you 'campers'. For the rest of the day, you'll be allowed to kill anyone you want, whether it's a 'camper', a guard, or me. But, you cannot leave the premises. Only those who survive will be ordained as hitmen and be free to go. Is that clear?"

"YES, SIR."

"The exam starts when you hear the trumpet and ends at five in the afternoon." Sir Frans walked back into his office and shut the door behind him.

Two guards entered through the door carrying a table filled with weapons. I stared at it and smiled. There wasn't a single bladed boomerang. After the two guards left, we watched as another climbed to the top of the guard tower. He raised the trumpet to his lips and whatever happened next could be described as 'hell', or 'pandemonium'. It was pure Armageddon. I took my boomerang. I was no longer weak. I was a fighter. I was a killer.

A 'camper' charged at me. I ducked down, dodging his attack and standing again to stab him from behind. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me to the back of one of the bunk houses.

"Izakiel!"

"Sshh," he held his finger to my lips and pointed at a hole in the ground. "You need to get out." He pushed me into the hole.

"What about you?" I asked, tugging at his sleeve.

"Your master will protect you. He will, in his own way, that is. If I escape now, the guards will kill me."

Before I could say another word, Izakiel covered up the hole with a giant boulder.

"No!" I tried to push the boulder away, but to no avail. All I could do was scream, and plead, and scream again.

"Valenia, you need to go. Please." Izakiel's voice was calm. "Please."

I began to cry. "Izakiel… Don't forget. Don't forget… you made a promise. You won't become a puppet, okay?" I was still pounding at the boulder.

"Shush… don't cry. I promise I won't. Now, go!"

I lowered my fists and wiped the tears away. "Goodbye." And at that, I crawled through the hole and escaped.

Rafie: Don't forget to review, people!