Out of reserves...
Chapter 4 continued.
Five hours later, that excitement had been replaced by a mix of pain and fear. He had only done four exercises so far: press-ups, sit ups, star jumps and jogging on the spot. Logan wouldn’t usually associate those with army training, but he saw why they were needed. He’d lost count of how many press-ups he’d done after 40. He’d never practiced them, so by then he was in too much pain to focus.
The sit ups weren’t much better; his stomach felt like it had been mauled by a pit-bull. His lungs felt like they were about to burst too, after all the star jumps and jogging. It was tempting to just give up, but nobody else had, so it would’ve portrayed him as a weakling.
Most bizarrely of all, the psychopath who was instructing them was not even human at all. He was seven feet tall, with bright red skin. He had huge teeth -or more like fangs- and two horns on his head. He wore camouflage clothes, which were covered in mud. Whenever he spoke, which was usually to insult them, he spat everywhere. He definitely liked the word maggot, for that’* what he called everyone. He seemed to believe that there was no reason to get tired.
After lunch came another wave of training, but this was sword-fighting and archery. Logan found he was much better at archery then he had guessed, but he was still a better swordsman.
30-May-2008 22:56:02
- Last edited on
30-May-2008 22:56:51
by
Silver Snake
