Fort Polk
June Gorgan sat at the side of the road leading out to a forest, a book in one hand and a soda in the other. The hot Louisiana air was sticky with humidity. It has been four years since he moved to the united states. June has spent most of his free time at fort polk with his father. They were lucky that his father had been working with the recruits, training and preparing them. Relaxing on the edge of the training grounds, June smiled; hearing the shouts of indentations, He smiled. His dad's team must have found the recruits. Thinking to himself in the open clearing, June counted down till the first group started to leave down the road next to himself. It took five minutes for the first forlorn recruits to march down the dirt path. "hey, had a run-in with my dad again?" June smiled up at the soldiers and put a bookmark into it to keep his place.
The men and women marching just groaned and looked over at the small child beaming with pride that they got their ass handed to them. One of the more happy soldiers knelt down next to June. "what are you reading, son?" the man said with a deep southern drawl and a smile. June perked up even more and lifted the book for the man to see. Brothers Grimm's complete collection, the deep red leather-bound book with creepy trees in black as a cover shined in the sun's light beaming down at them. "oh, it's a book of fairy tails my dad got me. I love it a lot more than the ones the school reads to us." June explained, running a small hand along the book's spine. The man looked confused. There was a six-year-old happily reading, and not just reading, reading an adult book known to be pretty dark. With a shake of the man's head, he stood up and returned to his march back to the base. Unperturbed, June returned to his book, waiting to be picked up by his father to return home. Later that night, June and Robert sat in their kitchen. Both of them ate quietly till Robert spoke up with a stoic face but a small smile gracing his face. "Well, I think it's almost time for your lessons. Let's finish up quickly." June nodded, then finished off his plate and stood to follow his father. They both made their way into the small living room of the on-base housing they lived in. Robert sat down in an armchair facing the couch across from it. June took his spot on the couch facing his father.
The lesson was exciting, as always. The first thing was a ritual; Robert pulled his sleeve up, showing a rainbow serpent curled in a circle with two thin swords crossed behind it. The tattoo was permanent right above his wrist. June had no tattoo but wished to be honed to where it when he was older. Robert traced the tattoo with two fingers. June tucked into the couch, ready for the lesson. Over the next two hours, Robert pulled out old notebooks and other journals, reviewing the history of muggle and wizarding worlds fighting against the dark. Being a squib, Roberts's explanations on defending oneself from the darkness didn't touch on magic. Silver for werewolves, sunlight and decapitation for vampires, and the many different ways one has to look into to fight off the multitude of incorporeal threats that haunt the shadows. June, near the end of the lesson, perked up when his father was talking about how a muggle was to defend them selfs from a wizard, dark or not. "Dad, you said I was a wizard. That's why you got me out of the orphanage. Should I learn how to be well a wizard?" Robert smiled and nodded, reaching over to ruffle June's hair. "Yes, I will find some way to teach you when you are older, but for now, I don't want you to rely on a wand if you get in trouble." June pouted a little, swatting at his dad's hand as his black hair fell over his eyes. "thanks, Dad. Now what about dragons?" With a chuckle from Robert, the lesson resumed.
The weekend arrived, and June bounced on his heels as he walked with his father. They had the range at the fort all to themselves. Robert carried a large duffle bag, and June had the bag swung over his shoulder. Robert set the bag on a table off to the side of a table set up next to the range, pulling out firearm after firearm and laying them out in a row on the table. June set the bag next to his father's, pulling out boxes of ammo and placing them next to each firearm they used. "OK, June, time to put some of the theory to the test. I will give you a threat, and you pick the weapon to deal with it." Robert said, stepping back, pulling out a folder, and reading through it. He barked out the word Vampire and June stepped up to the table and grabbed the Mossberg 500, loading the dragon's breath rounds. Making sure the safety was on, June placed the gun on the little shelf, sat in front of the range, and stepped back. Robert nodded and looked over the shotgun. "perfect fire weakens vampires, and a shotgun will do enough damage to slow them down if they don't drop from the wound." June smiled happily as his father stepped back and waved a hand for him to step up and test his aim with the firearm.
Moments later, June aimed at the target's dead center twenty meters. With a trigger pull, a sharp kick pushed into June's small shoulder, popping the barrel up into the air. The paper target flickered with flames, and its center ripped to shreds. The rest of the day was spent much the same way each gun was tested, each with a threat to be overcome. Werewolves got the MP5 smooth bored barrel. The wizards got the AR-15. So on and so force. This was what June Gorgon's life looked like for the next two years. Every week, training, schooling, and a new challenge to face.