First Training First Blood
998 Words
I didn’t sleep.
How do you sleep when your roommate is the son of the woman who tried to bury you twenty years ago?
Johnson pretended to snore all night. I pretended I believed him.
At 5:00 AM, the academy alarm screamed through the walls.
“Training yard. Now,” a voice blared over the intercom. “Late students get punished.”
I dressed fast. Blue uniform. The color that painted a target on my back.
Johnson was already gone.
---
The training yard was a pit of concrete and steel. 200 students stood in rows, breathing mist in the cold morning air.
At the front stood Instructor Kade. Ex-military. Ex-drug lord. Now he trained the next generation.
“Welcome to Day One,” he said, voice like gravel. “Here, you learn one thing: how to survive when the world wants you dead.”
His eyes landed on me.
“You. Blue boy. Step forward.”
I stepped out.
“Everyone wants you dead, Chaka. Not because you’re strong. Because you’re weak and you have a crown.”
He threw me a wooden knife.
“Defend yourself.”
A student in black stepped forward. Bigger than me. Red armband. Johnson’s crew.
“Name’s Rook,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s see if the prince bleeds red.”
The crowd laughed.
Kade raised his hand.
“Begin.”
Rook moved fast. Too fast.
I barely dodged the first strike. The knife whistled past my ear.
_Think. You’re not a fighter. Not yet._
I remembered what Queen Ferrera said: _Trust no one._
But right now, I had to trust my legs.
I ducked low, swept his ankle. Rook hit the ground hard.
The crowd went quiet.
For two seconds, I thought I’d won.
Then Rook rolled, grabbed my ankle, and slammed me down. My head cracked against concrete. Stars burst behind my eyes.
He straddled me, wooden knife at my throat.
“Yield, prince.”
I stared up at him.
“Never.”
He pressed harder.
“Yield!”
“No.”
The knife trembled.
“Stop!” Kade’s voice cracked like a whip.
Rook pulled back, spitting on the ground.
“Lucky you. Next time, I won’t miss.”
Kade walked over, hauled me to my feet.
“You’re alive. That’s all that matters today.”
He looked at the crowd.
“Remember this: in this academy, mercy gets you killed. Don’t give it unless you mean it.”
---
After training, my body felt like it was held together by duct tape and spite.
Johnson was waiting by my locker.
“Not bad, prince,” he said. “You lasted thirty seconds longer than I thought.”
“What do you want, Johnson?”
“Just checking if you’re still breathing. You saw something last night, didn’t you?”
My blood went cold.
“What are you talking about?”
“The lab. With my mother.”
He leaned in, voice low.
“You think I didn’t hear you run? You think I don’t know what’s in that syringe?”
I said nothing.
Johnson smiled. Not friendly.
“Good. Keep quiet. For now. Because if you tell anyone about the serum, I’ll tell everyone you’re unstable. That you’re a failed experiment.”
He tapped my chest.
“Your father buried you once. I’ll make sure he finishes the job.”
He walked off, leaving me shaking.
---
Lina found me by the infirmary.
“You look like hell,” she said.
“Thanks. You always this charming?”
“Only to people I like.”
She handed me a bottle of water.
“You can’t keep fighting alone. Johnson’s gunning for you.”
“I noticed.”
“Good. Because I’m gunning for him too.”
She sat next to me.
“My brother died in this academy. Last year. ‘Accident’ during training. Everyone knew it was Johnson’s crew.”
Her eyes were hard.
“I’m not here to make friends, Chaka. I’m here to burn it down. You in?”
I looked at her. Really looked.
She wasn’t offering friendship. She was offering war.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m in.”
---
Night fell again.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Johnson was asleep. Or pretending.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the serum. About the lab. About the fact that I’d died once and no one told me.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number:
_Meet me at the east tower. Midnight. Come alone. Or I tell Johnson what I saw._
My blood ran cold.
Someone else knew.
I got up, pulled on my jacket, and slipped out of the room.
The east tower was abandoned. Crumbling stone, broken windows.
A figure stood in the shadows.
“Chaka,” the voice said.
It was Lord Henry.
“Why are you here?” I whispered.
“Because you’re in danger,” he said. “And because I made a promise to your mother twenty years ago.”
He stepped forward.
“The serum in you isn’t just a weapon, Chaka. It’s a key. And Queen Ferrera isn’t the only one who wants to open the door.”
Footsteps echoed behind me.
I turned.
Johnson stood there, flanked by Rook and two other guys.
“Well, well,” Johnson said. “Looks like the prince likes midnight meetings.”
He smiled.
“Lord Henry. Traitor.”
Lord Henry didn’t flinch.
“Johnson. Boy playing at being a man.”
Johnson drew a knife.
“Enough talking.”
He lunged.
And everything went black.
---
I woke up on the floor.
My head was pounding.
Lord Henry was on his knees, blood on his mouth.
Johnson stood over him, laughing.
“You’re too late, prince,” Johnson said, looking at me.
“The serum activation starts now. And you’re the test subject.”
He pulled out the syringe. Glowing blue.
My heart stopped.
*[End of Chapter 3]*
_Next: Chaka’s first injection. The serum awakens._
- Writer
