Chapter 1 / Sneak Peak
I had been living on the streets for 2 months now.
My parents were dead.
My older brother killed them. Then himself.
I wasn’t home when it happened, I had been at the arcade just playing my favourite gun games.
As to why it happened – I… in truth, I didn’t like to think about it too much.
In fact, I didn’t think about it at all.
I opened the door to our – my – family house, saw the remains, turned around immediately and never returned, then blanked out the images.
What was the point? To think about it? I hadn’t grieved, fuck that. I didn’t believe in thinking about the fact they were gone.
I mean… if I did think about it, I might just… I might just…
I do a little dance down the sidewalk of FC’s most night lit city street, while listening to some Junk Pop through my stolen headphones.
I’m beyond starving, aside from food I’ve eaten out of the bins – and most of it made me sick. I’m a little desperate for my homelessness to end, but I don’t trust anyone.
But, I did remember one adult I had a lot of respect for. I knew her briefly, and she had a business down this strip of shops.
It’s the first time I’m going to look for someone to confide in about what happened.
I had to choose who to trust very carefully in Frankincense City.
But this feels like the right choice.
I decide to check on the private independent combat academy.
It’s up a steep stair case off the wet sidewalk.
Getting up the stairs almost exhausts my last bit of energy, but I make it.
I go to knock – when I see the lease.
I look through the window, the place… abandoned…. vacated. My old teacher of defence had left her business? Why?! Viola had taught me a lot for those free lessons I had attended a year back.
I’m disappointed it’s vacated, but there is a recruiting note on the door that catches my eye.
I read it, since I have nothing better to do except die slowly out here anyway.
FC Military ULTRA Special Operations ; No experience required. Contract for Death. Training pass – 3 years. WARNING: Death expectancy is extremely high from bodily injury or accident. Over 30% death rate for year 1. Over 50% year 2. Over 85% year 3. Anyone who survives gets a life salary and housing benefits thereafter. Out of every 10 who apply, 1.5 are expected to survive. No interview. No resume. We just need bodies.
Geez. A job I could apply for?
I don’t mind that!
Considering the amount of times I had just barely escaped getting mugged or assaulted while living in the gutter on my own?
This was better chances of survival than out here.
But… then the fine print.
If under 18, parent’s approval is required.
I was 16.
And my parents were dead.
I rip the note from the wall and I wander how I can prove my age.
Just lie? Yes. I wasn’t a very good liar but – I would for this. An opportunity to forget what happened to me. An opportunity to talk to people in a job environment. Free food.
Okay. I’d lie about everything.
First… I’d show up to the Military with a fake name.
I couldn’t be Wendy so…
I’d say my name was Viola, and lie about the rest, my age, my family, everything!
Author’s Note ▌│█║▌║▌║ | ║▌║▌║█│▌
THIS IS A SNEAK PEAK!!! Like a prologue or draft. I will continue to update Kings of Hell after I finish Fantasy X Vol. 2, which is a like a prequel to Kings of Hell. The blurb is still in progress. Add Kings of Hell to your reading lists before updates officially begin ;) and please, if you can, support my writing on patreon --- patreon.com/CSW1995 --- link also via the SUPPORT ME button on my Inkitt profile, any help is super appreciated as I write full time! x
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