Hallo! New chapter! Also, Happy Holidays to all of my followers! I hope you all have a blessed time of rest from work/school!
Rule #10: Do not rest until the task is complete
Forty by thirty by ten.
Twelve-thousand square meters.
They had started with one-thousand-and-eighty minutes on the clock.
Now she only had one-hundred-and-seventeen. Though even that was a rough estimate.
Today's lesson was another in what Mister Wilson called 'hunting'. Lessons like these could last for multiple days, starting off with a period of preparation where Stormkrigeren and her teacher would construct the course they would be running, and finally ending when one of them became prey. The goal was simple: track down and injure the other before time runs out.
It was easier said than done, especially in a cramped, complicated, maze-like course built of pallet boards and rough gravel when all the lights in her Rooms were turned off and the freezing sprinkler system triggering intermittently. Mister Wilson said that it was to simulate real-world conditions, which Stormkrigeren did not entirely believe, but she wasn't one to argue. For now, she simply sat quietly, blinking in the darkness and desperately trying not to feel the cold as she listened hard for any sort of movement.
Hunting was a game of sorts, and all she had to do to win was search, pursue, and injure her Teacher in only eighteen hours. The only catch was that Mister Wilson was doing the same, so not only was Stormkrigeren required to find him, but she also had to do it without him finding her first. And if - if - she somehow managed that and followed him undetected, she could always take the risk of attacking him first and fighting for the chance to draw blood, thus ending the hunt. The easiest play would be to simply avoid her Teacher, but true victory could only be achieved through battle.
Hours earlier, before she and Mister Wilson had started the hunt, he had given her the one weapon Stormkrigeren was allotted during the lesson and carefully laid out the rules, explaining to her the best course of action and ensuring that she understood every step of the plan.
"The trick," he had told her, "is to keep moving. If you stay in one place for too long, you are much easier to catch - and the moment you're caught..."
Mister Wilson had paused to make sure that his student was listening, then having her attention, he drew a finger across his throat in a movement that Stormkrigeren understood all too well.
"I'll be killed for resting, won't I?" she had asked soberly as she twisted the ka-bar's handle between her fingers, knowing the answer before he even opened his mouth to reply.
"That's the thing about rest and mercy and hell of a lot of other things, Storm - everyone needs it, but no one truly deserves it."
Less than ninety minutes later, Stormkrigeren learned just how true those words were.
The training course was pitch dark, so it was by feel that she quietly crept along. Normally, she might have used her ears to avoid obstacles and follow the easiest route through the tall pallet boards, using a combination of light raps against the ground and soft clicks with her tongue in a primitive form of echolocation, but that was not possible now. The patter of the overhead sprinkler system dulled any sounds that she made and made it hard to hear where she was, and even in the times where the water was off, there was still the dangerous chance that Mister Wilson might hear her. The softest of footsteps on gravel could seem as loud as an alarm bell if one was listening for them, so it was of the utmost importance that Stormkrigeren remained silent all throughout the hunt. The only issue was that both staying silent and staying on the move were nigh on impossible when done together.
She was used to stretching her own limits and going long periods of time with hardly any sleep, but this was just plain exhausting. The energy it took to not only find her way around in the dark and dangerous maze of a course, but to keep herself moving forward, was almost more than she had, and it didn't help that Stormkrigeren had not eaten in nearly a day by now. Somehow she managed to keep moving silently and stealthily until about halfway through their allotted time, and having not sensed any danger or heard a single sound besides the dripping of water and her own light breathing, she allowed herself a short break.
Stormkrigeren had hardly paused for more than a minute when she heard a sound like loose clothing brushing against rough wood, and a moment later the noise was followed by the familiar thunk of steel embedding itself in the pallet board less than a foot to her right - he had found her. She did not give herself time to think about fighting back and instead grabbed the throwing knife before moving on again as quickly and quietly as possible. Six hours later, and despite her aching limbs and tired body, Stormkrigeren had stopped just once more after the incident only to have another blade thrown in her direction, urging her on again. The lesson was not hard to understand - any moment that you allowed yourself to relax, that you let your guard down, that you ignored the warnings in favor of rest, could easily be the moment that you lost your life.
The fatigue was getting to her now, making her slow and clumsy, sometimes accidentally knocking against wood or brushing gravel, and by the sound letting the whole Room know exactly where she was. Each small noise sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins, urging her to bolt away from the sound she herself had caused in case her hunter moved towards it. But Stormkrigeren held her nerve and continued to move at a steady and quiet pace, listening carefully. There was always the chance that Mister Wilson might have heard the sound and followed it with the intention of ending their hunt with a fight, though Stormkrigeren was beginning to doubt that after accidentally announcing her location for the third time and seeing no trace of her Teacher afterward - in all likelihood, he was equally exhausted as her and might have even paused to rest while she carried on.
But the fear of being followed was not even the worst part of a hunting session. No, what scared Stormkrigeren most was not her hunter, but the very real possibility of getting lost.
With nothing to guide her but sound and touch, it was not too hard to lose one's way in the complicated course, even if Stormkrigeren had had a hand in building it. There was nothing in the rules against moving the pallet board obstacles out of place, only that there was a significant risk of making a sound while doing so, but she knew that her Teacher could be very stealthy when he wanted to. Every now and again, it would suddenly occur to Stormkrigeren that she had lost her way, trapped in the dark Room with no way out and no knowing what might be lurking around the next corner - and there was nothing she could do to escape except carry on in silence.
But still, she did not allow herself to stop - even when completely disorientated, she stayed on her feet and on her guard as she continued to search for her Teacher. Stormkrigeren was all too familiar with long, tiring hunts - she had done them before and was by no means a rookie to this sort of thing.
Two months ago, she had run another hunting course similar to this one, except that the previous course had not had so many high places or obstacles that required climbing. That was not because Stormkrigeren couldn't climb - she could climb quite well, in fact, and enjoyed trekking vertically in search of a high resting place. The easier terrain was actually to accommodate the dogs, who weren't nearly as good at climbing. They were dogs, after all.
Mister Wilson had brought in a pair of Belgian Malinoises a few days before their last hunting session, sitting both the hounds and his student down on the floor to explain what exactly was going on. Stormkrigeren had never seen a dog before, at least not physically, but she had seen pictures and Dr. Schreyer had told her a little bit about what was apparently 'man's best friend' and the companion animal for millions of people around the world. The animal sitting next to her did not seem to be especially friendly and was even harder to read than Alexander himself, but it did let her run a hand over its gleaming fur coat when Mister Wilson instructed Stormkrigeren to do so. Her Teacher had then explained over the next half-hour that the dogs were to be her hunters, and the goal of the hunt was for her to avoid them for as long as possible. It was a lesson in endurance, stamina, and persistence, and the only way to win was to outlast her hunters.
Mister Wilson gave her a two-minute head-start into the course, and Stormkrigeren used it to locate a decently elevated hiding spot where she could sit until the dogs exhausted themselves looking for her. It was a clever plan, and might have worked quite well if not for the fact that Belgian Malinoises were not only bred for their tracking and detection skills, but could smell a human often over a hundred-and-twenty away. She didn't stand a chance by staying in one spot, and Stormkrigeren learned that less than a minute later when one of the dogs strayed dangerously close to her hiding spot, nose to the ground as it followed her trail.
But she was clever enough to not allow herself to be cornered and managed to move on before she was spotted. That was how the hunt ensued - Stormkrigeren stayed on her feet, keeping as high and out of reach as she could, while the dogs came quickly after. They bayed every now and again, getting excited whenever her scent grew stronger, and she couldn't help but flinch every time a bark sounded too close for comfort. Of course, there were other times where her evasion skills paid off and the hounds might lose the trail or get disinterested, but there was always Mister Wilson to spur them on again, and the chase through the winding course would start anew.
Yet even dogs got tired sooner or later, and eventually, her Teacher had to finally call them off around the two-and-a-half-hour mark. Stormkrigeren had succeeded in evading the predators long enough to win.
The whole experience had left her a bit wary of dogs, but also intrigued. They made excellent hunters, just like she was training to be, and Stormkrigeren knew she could learn quite a lot by training with them. Mister Wilson was of the same opinion, and had mentioned the possibility of another hunting session using hounds as the hunters at a later date, but it had not come to pass as of yet. Stormkrigeren looked forward to when it would happen, and wondered if Mister Wilson would use the same pair of Belgian Malinois as last time. Would they remember her or her Rooms? Would she do better in the hunt now that she knew how they track her? She would have to ask Mister Wilson about it later, after the current hunt was complete-
A sound snapped her out of her reverie - a nearly inaudible rustling of disturbed gravel - and Stormkrigeren's head was up in an instant, listening hard as she peered into the darkness in the direction of the noise. It had been somewhere below her and to the left, and dangerously close. Eyes useless without light and unable to detect any other sounds, Stormkrigeren crouched taut and ready, knowing that unless there was a third person in the Room (damnit, she hoped it wasn't true), only her Teacher could have caused a disturbance in the silence.
Mister Wilson was close by - and Stormkrigeren was running out of time.
Of course, she had known from the start that the easiest way of winning was to simply avoid him, but one could never avoid forever. Your hunter would catch up eventually, and her's was almost nipping at her heels. So Stormkrigeren did the most logical and dangerous thing she could possibly have done: she decided to make her hunter the hunted.
Below and to her left, that was where she had heard him. She crept silently in that direction, clutching her only weapon in one hand and using the other to feel for obstacles ahead, listening hard as she did. There - another low sound farther ahead and more to her right this time. Stormkrigeren chased after it as quickly as she dared without making any noise herself that might alert her Teacher of her approach.
She did not have to fight him, she only had to draw blood. Attack from behind - scratch him, stab him, do anything necessary to make him bleed, and do it without being able to see her enemy. Fighting blind, fighting bloody.
He couldn't be very far now. Stormkrigeren knew that she was close to where the second sound had originated from, so she slowed her pace to a standstill, hands spread on the ground below her as she tried to sense any movement nearby. She didn't need to - she heard it: the distinct swish of a blade leaving its sheath.
Her knife was in the air in an instant, swinging down hard on her opponent in what should have been a debilitating blow if only Mister Wilson had been there to receive it.
Stormkrigeren, unfortunately, had missed.
Mister Wilson's fist made contact with her shoulder in a counterattack, his blade following close behind, but his student was nothing if quick. She ducked underneath the stab, rolling out of the way of another thrust she could not see in the pitch darkness, but she could hear it whistle past her left ear. No time to hesitate, no time to pause for breath, only dodge and attack.
On her feet in an instant, retaliating with a slash in his direction only to feel it nearly miss and harmlessly glance off his ribs instead. His fist somehow found her jaw, throwing her back against the pallet board wall and she could almost see his blade hand raised to strike when both of them heard it - the sound they had been so desperately waiting for, the sound of the buzzer in the Watching Room announcing the end of the hunt. But both of them also knew better than to pause mid-fight.
Stormkrigeren sensed the next blow coming and reacted accordingly by raising her knife to clash against his, effectively deflecting the stab. But even if she had managed to avoid the first strike, that did not mean she could avoid the one that followed it.
She felt the blade against her skin in the same moment that the lights came on, followed by biting pain and the unmistakable warmth of blood rushing from the wound.
Stormkrigeren blinked dumbly in the sudden light, one arm still raised in defense and the other pressed close to her side, bleeding heavily from a long slice over her bicep. Her Teacher stood only a few feet away, also reacclimating his eyes, but that did not stop him from growling dangerously as he raised his bloodied knife to point at her.
"That..." he said sharply, referring to her ambush, "...was a mistake, Stormkrigeren."
Her eyes narrowed at his words, and she was about to point out that he had only managed to draw blood after the buzzer sounded when Mister Wilson spoke up again.
"Mistakes are inevitable - they are part of what makes us human," her Teacher explained slowly, running a hand through his silver hair with a tired sigh, "You, unfortunately, are not. So don't you ever think for a moment that even one mistake will be tolerated for even an instant."
"But that's not fair!" she snapped angrily back at him, "You can't punish me just for being different!"
She spat the last word out, hating the meaning behind it and hating what it had done to her as she clutched her knife tighter. There was no reason for him to blame her - it was wrong and unfair and it wasn't supposed to be this way. But even if Stomkrigeren was in the right, her Teacher still scowled at the words and flung his arms wide to indicate the hunting course and Room around them.
"Look around you - is any of this fair?" he demanded furiously, "The entire reason you're kept locked up in these damn Rooms is because you're different, and still you call it normal! You call it retribution and justice for… for whatever the hell you are. There is no justice in this world, Stormkrigeren - and you'd better learn that damn well quickly."
She didn't answer him, but her hard glare softened somewhat as she followed her Teacher's example when he sheathed his blade. The hunt was over and there was no time left to fight for, so now they both could finally have some room to breathe. Following Mister Wilson as he started making his way out of the course towards the kitchenette door, Stormkrigeren found herself almost sighing in relief at the thought of what came next - something to eat and drink, a short rest, and lastly the most boring part of the hunting session - cleaning up the course.
V*V*V*V*V*V*V
Mister Wilson left not long after they finished sweeping the last of the gravel that had covered the floor of their hunting course away, muttering something about having a flight in eleven hours and wanting to catch some sleep beforehand. There was a contract out in Kenya that he wanted to pick up, and he would be back later that week.
As promised, he did return - though two days later than expected and with a large compress bandage on his shoulder visible beneath his shirt. Stormkrigeren did not question it and instead asked what they would be learning today.
The lesson was in marksmanship - Mister Wilson had long ago recognized that his student's proficiency in ranged combat was severely limited to nothing more than throwing blades at a target, and had decided that it was high time to step it up a notch. He began by introducing her to the weapon they would be training with: a 9mm Glock-19, and later on its more advanced counterpart, the .22 Glock-44 for heavier firing.
(And though he saw the way she stiffened when he removed the guns from his bag, Mister Wilson refrained from criticizing her on it and carried on with the lesson).
Stormkrigeren already had some knowledge of firearms - her Teacher had ensured that years before with some simple practice in bullet and gun identification, teaching her to recognize various weapons and their abilities, and even going so far as to have her do the occasional loading, but never shooting. Now, all that knowledge was finally put to the test.
They started off with a quick quiz on basic firearm usage and preparation - which bullets worked for which guns, how to unload and load a clip, ensuring that the weapon was in good condition, and finally how to handle it safely. Afterward, Mister Wilson instructed her in setting up various bullet traps to act as targets and stacked cinderblocks for shooting obstacles. And finally, Stormkrigeren was allowed to load her weapon and submit it for a safety check before she started on the first set of targets.
Mister Wilson had her focus on simply shooting first, getting a good feel for the gun while learning to ignore the loud noise it made and the sudden recoil that shook her hands. They worked on proper stance and aim, developing the muscle memory required to shoot true. Once her Teacher was satisfied with her proficiency, they moved on to accuracy.
Actually hitting what you aimed for turned out to be much harder than Stormkrigeren had expected, but with her Teacher's constant instruction and pointers and readjustments, she eventually reached the point where she could consistently hit the cardboard target when she really tried. Mister Wilson had her go over five sets of three targets each, every set of increasing difficulty, as slowly as she needed in order to make the shot count - though it took much longer than he would have liked for her to hit sets Four and Five.
The first three arrangements of targets were pretty simple - a couple of cinderblocks for her to aim around, and that was it. Set Four was the same design with the concrete bricks blocking the easiest shot, but did so in such a way that Stormkrigeren was forced to spend what felt like hours (it was actually about five minutes) trying to find the best angle through the blocks so that her bullet would actually hit the target, and even after she found said angle, she only managed success every third shot or so. On the other hand, set Five was not nearly as complicated but equally difficult as it required her to aim at a moving target (another bullet trap on a transport dolly propelled by a hard shove from Mister Wilson) through more cinderblock obstacles similar to set Two. Oddly enough, Stormkrigeren performed better on the last set than she did on the previous one.
They had been working on precision and accuracy for a little over two hours when her Teacher decided that she was a decent enough slow-shot to start building up her speed. That was the point of starting off slow - slow was smooth and smooth was fast - and fast, Mister Wilson told her, was the only she wasn't going to get killed. Thus the speed drills.
She shot at the same targets through the same sets as before, only this time Mister Wilson gave her a time limit to hit all three targets in each set. They started off at thirty seconds, which was easy enough except at set Four, but she managed it.
They get down to ten seconds for each set, with Mister Wilson counting down the seconds as Stormkrigeren fired off her shots. At one point, she even managed to make sets One through Three in under five seconds each (her Teacher muttering something about having to add more variety in targets next time so she wasn't shooting at the same damn flaps of cardboard as she did), and she was rewarded with a terse but approving nod from Mister Wilson before she moved on to the next set.
Over and over and over again, she went through each series of targets as quickly as she could until she had it down to a pattern - unload clip, reload clip, and discard the shells while you're at it. Submit your weapon for examination and move on to the next set. Shoot and repeat.
This went on for a few hours, and it was nearly time for Stormkrigeren's next meal when her Teacher was finally satisfied and indicated that the lesson was over by packing up his kit bag, muttering something about having to get going if he wanted to catch his flight as he did. Stormkrigeren, being the good student that she was, helped him by collecting the clips and cartridges he had brought for her to train with. Lastly, she set the pair of training glocks down beside his bag, surrendering the weapons - only for Mister Wilson to shove one of them back into her hands.
"Hang on to it," he ordered, zipping up the duffel as he did, "Get some more practice in while I'm gone."
"I-I'm not allowed to have a weapon without supervision," Stormkrigeren pointed out, but she made no move to hand over the gun as her Teacher chuckled.
"What, like Schreyer or someone isn't watching you twenty-four-seven? Just hand it over to one of them when you're finished - I trust you'll get along fine."
His last words caused her to pause, and Stormkrigeren eyed her Teacher warily, wondering if this was another one of his odd tests to try her obedience. She was supposed to hand the gun over, she wasn't supposed to have weapons without someone watching her, what if she used it wrong or against someone-
Mister Wilson trusted that she would get along fine. Mister Wilson trusted her.
"Okay," she said slowly, clutching the firearm a little closer, "Thank y-"
The sound of the steel door to her Rooms hissing open stopped her mid-sentence, and both Teacher and student looked up to see a familiar somebody march through the entryway with a frown etched on his face. Alexander's countenance brightened slightly at the sight of them, but Mister Wilson's usual glare only seemed to deepen as he slung the kit bag over his shoulder with a sigh.
"Mister Luthor."
"Ah, Mister Wilson!" Lex grinned, eyeing the man with an air of surprise, "You're leaving already?"
"I've got a flight to catch," Stormkrigeren's Teacher answered tersely, and before his employer could argue against it, Mister Wilson was already striding towards the door and letting himself out - leaving her alone with Alexander. Both of them watched as it slid shut behind him, Alexander twisting his face into an exaggerated grimace at her Teacher's sudden departure - Stormkrigeren got the vague sense that his expression was supposed to be funny, though she did not laugh and instead watched him carefully in expectation of an order. But none came, and Alexander just smiled at her.
"Morning, Dee-Dee! Sorry for interrupting your lesson, but it looked as if you were just about finished and I wanted to drop by and see how everything was going."
Stormkrigeren nodded, and was about to reply something along the lines of 'all right' when his expression abruptly changed again.
"You're… learning how to use a gun," Alexander stated suddenly, his gaze locked on the weapon in her hand and a small frown forming around the edges of his mouth.
"Mister Wilson wanted to ensure that I had a good grasp of marksmanship and ranged combat," she explained quickly, watching the steel door her Teacher had just left through. Damnit, she wished he had stayed, she didn't like being left all on her own with-
Alexander's frown deepened a little more, and Stormkrigeren had to consciously suppress a rush of adrenaline at that - frowning meant that a person was upset and nothing good ever happened when Alexander was upset.
"All right," he said slowly in an even tone, "Can I see what you've learned so far?"
She nodded - she knew better than to refuse - and prepared her firearm, raising it to aim steadily at the first set of targets to her left. They were easy pickings, and she hit all three bullet traps with only a single shot each. The next set was a bit more difficult with a few cinderblock obstacles interspersed between Stormkrigeren and the targets, but she had had plenty of practice and nailed it quickly and easily. Set Three was even less straightforward and had more cinderblocks than the previous one, requiring her to take the time to find just the right angle to hit each of the bullet traps perfectly.
It was only when she came to Set Four that Stormkrigeren hesitated - finding the right angle was difficult and time-consuming, and she knew from experience that Alexander was not exactly a patient person. Making an educated guess based on previous attempts with Mister Wilson, she knelt and aimed in what was approximately the right direction through the cinderblocks, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves before she fired.
Beneath the echoing gunshot, she heard a terrible sound - the crack and ping of a bullet hitting concrete instead of the target.
Stormkrigeren, unfortunately, had missed.
Her eyes immediately flew to Alexander standing a few feet away, searching his face for any sign of a reaction to her failure. With the way his brow darkened into a hard glare, it was not hard to tell that he was clearly very upset - angry, even - but despite his obvious displeasure, he firmly kept his mouth shut, lips pressed together in a hard line. He said nothing, and nodded stiffly for her to try again.
Rolling her shoulders to relieve the tension building there, Stormkrigeren did her best to relax and aim straight as she raised the weapon again. She lined up the barrel with the sliver of target and took a deep breath before pulling the trigger for the second time.
And for the second time, she heard her shot embed itself in hard stone instead of ballistics gel, but the sound had hardly reached her ears before it was followed by a raised voice far too close for comfort.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Alexander screeched, hackles rising as he marched towards her, "Damnit, you can't even hit a damn target when it's looking you in the goddamned face! Give it here!"
Maybe if Stormkrigeren had not been frozen with fear, she might have been able to react - but the strong hand wrenching the gun out of hers' was completely unexpected, and she could only watch as Alexander raised the weapon with an irate snort of annoyance.
Alexander knew how to use a gun, knew how to aim well and how to pull the trigger - but just this once, his aim was the slightest bit off.
They both tensed as for the third time that day, the bullet hit concrete instead. And for the longest moment, it was blissfully silent as they stared at the undamaged target, the only sound in her Room that of the atmospheric regulator and Alexander's heavy breathing as he turned on her.
"Dee-Dee," he said slowly, his voice dripping with barely-restrained rage, "Dee-Dee, I want you to get down on your knees. Now."
If it had been under normal circumstances, if he had not been the one holding the gun, Stormkrigeren would have refused outright. But this was in no way a normal circumstance, and she couldn't expect help or rescue to come from anywhere when Alexander was around - he was the one in charge, he was the one holding the gun. And Stormkrigeren, unfortunately, knew what guns could do. She knew that if she was truly honest with herself, she had no other choice.
She was down on her knees in an instant, hands obediently folded behind her back - and for her obedience, she was rewarded with the hard blow of a heavy firearm cracking against her skull.
The force of the strike caught her completely off-guard and sent her stumbling to the floor, vision darkening as unconsciousness threatened to close in. Stormkrigeren was dimly aware of nearly passing out and her ears ringing painfully as she struggled to sit up, swaying unsteadily from the sudden movement. It was hard to move with her head pounding the way it was - damnit, it was hard to even think, but she was coherent enough to understand three things:
One, Alexander was touching her, cradling her face, stroking her jaw, saying something she couldn't quite make out with her ears ringing the way they were, but she could tell it was meant to be soothing.
Two, she did not like him touching here - it was bad and dangerous and she did not like the feel of him against her skin.
Three, no matter how much she hated it, she was not allowed to move when she was being inspected. She had to hold still, she had to wait, she was not allowed to speak up or tell him 'no' or try to get him to stop touching her when she did not want to be touched.
But Stormkrigeren was a good girl, so she kept her mouth shut and did not pull away.
"Shh, shh," Alexander soothed gently, his cold hands stroking her skin in a way that sent a shiver down her spine, "I-I'm sorry, Dee-Dee, I really am. That was… stupid. Don't ever think for even a moment that it's any fault of yours that you're so bad at shooting - I'm sure you'll improve eventually, and that was a really great try."
Stormkrigeren couldn't do much more than nod in reply, and immediately regretted the action as a fresh wave of pain washed over her - damnit, she hated concussions with a passion, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it, not until he let her up…
Alexander didn't let her up, stroking the bruise that was starting to form on her temple and pressing himself closer to whisper in her ear.
"No more of this 'Alexander' or 'Mister Luthor' shit," he said softly, "I want you to call me Lex, now - I think you've earned it."