Slater J. Tross, O.L.C

August 28th, 2030, 1:13 am  

I scream myself into consciousness.

Some growls stagger throughout the room. There is shuffling on the lower cots on my side of the aisle, and I hear a couple pairs of feet stick and peel off the glossy floor. The light along the wall beside our bunk bed flicks into radiance. The glow seeps up to my bed, illuminating me and the area surrounding only slightly. It gives me enough brightness to see my other classmates rising from their sleep.

My throat is scorched. I was in the midst of a horrific nightmare that I thought would never end.

I stood in a room riddled with blood-stained corpses, lined up in neat and orderly rows. Some were men, some were women, others elderly, and a handful of children. Dead. From the way they dressed, from cozy fur jackets to beach attire, it was clear that no victim was the same. All a different story, a different life, and even a different death. I couldn't bring myself to look at the bodies anymore, but my eyes burned from the air.

For the first time since Saturday night, I heard the shallow, daunting voice that infested my head since the beginning of the month. His words of coercion once again warned me about the Medo and its slow approach. When I defied his word, he whisked me to the top of the highest mountain the Meadowlands and left me there. He forced me to cry for help. Instead, I told him that he holds no authority to control me.

We teleported again, yet this time we were on a yacht. A glimpse at the distance from the water would give way to the cloudy remnants of Queen's City. The city was intact, but it seemed obscure and unreachable.

"You don't know what you have until it's gone, Slater. I am providing you with an inconceivable advantage, yet you refuse to take it. So I will give you one last chance to take my deal and procure my gift without further repercussions."

I stare at him, my lip flaring. "Never."

He shoves me into the ocean with my leg shackled to a bulky weight. I start shouting for air or someone to save me, but the water tumbles down my throat.

CJ climbs up the ladder to my bed and rests his arms on the sheets. "Slater, what happened? Are you okay?"

I rub the sides of my head, trying to wake myself from the horror. "I'm sorry, it was a bad dream."

He plops himself on the cot and lets one of his legs dangle over his own bed below. "I hate when that happens. Sometimes you just can't sleep."

"Are you doing okay?" Hal's head appears when he launches himself up to the gate surrounding my bed. He holds himself steady, probably landing himself on CJ's mattress.

"Yeah, guys, I'm good. I'll try to go back to sleep." I rest my head against the wall, almost touching the ceiling. I tear my sheets off of my legs to let the cool drift collect on my skin and lower my temperature and emotions. Anything to get Roarke out of my head for the night.

Hal lays his hands on the railing and sits his head overtop them. "How bad was your dream?"

I expose my the mark to them, and it doesn't so much as glow. From the light below, I can see its chilling shadow against the crook of my arm. They stare at it, and CJ sighs. He glances at the scar below his right elbow before inspecting mine again. The pain he went through to acquire that isn't anything I've ever considered. All because of me.

I clamp my fingers over my mark. "I don't even know how to describe it. I've been hearing voices in my head since I got this thing, and he spoke to me in my dream. I saw so many dead people. They might have been my victims but it looked worse than that." I cross my legs and cover my knees with my hands. "He's still trying to get me to join his stupid cult. The same one that's been murdering innocent people. Maybe that's who all those dead bodies were."

The two guys exchange a look. Hal turns back first. "Who is telling you to do this?"

The question I have been trying to avoid has resurfaced. But I walked myself right into that one. I should be more careful after I once again dodge the challenge. Something inside of me, however, is telling me to unveil the truth. I have used Roarke's final lifeline before he pleads without consequences on me, so if he's going to come after me, I say bring it on.

"His name is Rodney Roarke. He is the leader of the cult that gave me this mark. I haven't heard his voice in a few days, but I think he's back. I don't know what he's going to do with me."

CJ pulls his loose leg onto the bed. "Then we need someone to watch over you and protect you to make sure this guy doesn't kill you. I'm more than willing to do it."

"Oh, please, CJ. You wouldn't risk your life for this asshole, would you?" A grumbling voice calls out from the other side of the room. "It's ridiculous to think that the moment something goes down, you would think to save Slater's life. Being sacrificial over your own life is foolish."

Hal disappears below the gate to my bed and CJ faces where the resentful expression came from. I can hear the Corporal's feet glue to the floor as he awaits his rival's advance. "You wanna say that again, Craig?"

"Gladly." Craig asserts as I peer over the edge of my bed. He is pacing over to Hal who stands firm in the aisle. "All of you can stop trying to play hero to this lunatic. What has he done to deserve your comfort or friendship? He was guilty of over ten murders and a list of other crimes on top of that. He has killed two Imperial Guard officers and even the Major's wife. And as new Imperial Guards, it is our duty to renounce him."

Hal presses his fingers into the Sergeant's chest. "We don't have the duty to do shit, Craig. You're just upset that you lost to him in the combat tournament."

"Are you fucking blind, Hal? He has that mark on his arm. The same one that is on all of the victims around the Empire. You heard him say it himself, he's part of that damn cult. We're lucky he hasn't murdered any of us yet."

"Can you guys please shut up-"

"And he's not going to kill any of us. You want to know why?" Hal gives Craig's chest a second shove. "Because he's not out to get anyone like you are. He actually cares about us, unlike you."

I cast my body over the gate and land on the floor. "Hal, stop. Don't hurt him."

Craig backs away from his rival and smirks. "You heard your master. You wouldn't want to defy his request, now would you?" He turns back to his bunk bed and starts to scale the railing.

Hal springs from his position and seizes a handful of the Sergeant's t-shirt. He wrenches him down to the ground with a slam and throws himself on top of him. A crowd gathers around them in an instant, trying to pull them apart, but Hal wards them away with a free hand. I have no opportunity or opening to maneuver in between the circle.

"Back up, this is between us!" Hal shouts, wrangling with Craig's shirt collar. Craig clutches the Corporal's arms and whirls him off of him, pulling him to his feet. He throws my friend onto his cot and balls his hand into a tight fist. Hal wrestles his opponent's wrist, attempting to soften the blow.

How could I stand here and let them kill each other? This is the third time in less than twelve hours that they've gotten under each other's skin. At dinner, they started arguing again because he thought no one was talking to him because we hated him. Well, that's the truth, but we brushed it off as if we couldn't hear him or he needed to speak up, which was wrong of us. He blamed Hal for being my friend again. Their altercation didn't extend beyond harsh words, but things have been stormy since then.

I'm sick of them fighting over me. I bet things around here would be going so much smoother without me. Craig has been throwing around accusations to try and sway the class against me, but his efforts, so far, have seen no results. Hal, on the other hand, is using every violent tactic to get his way and lacks much-needed patience. I hate Craig Larsson with an intense passion, but I can't allow Hal to hurt him. He's our leader.

I shove through the dumbfounded flock as they stare at the brawl unfolding before them. Hal and Craig are tossing their bodies to and fro, with no concern for their surroundings and the other beds that are in their vicinity. There is no way to effectively interfere with their fight, so I'll have to do it by force.

In a flurry of punches, I squeeze between them to shred their angst. One fist lands against my cheek, though I can't tell who it came from. Through the sting, I propel them from each other. Hal collapses onto his bed, while I hold Craig by his shirt. Their mouths are drooling with wrath as they bite the air between them.

Away from the skirmish, the bunk room door flings open. "What the hell is going on in here?" A furious voice shouts, and we all freeze in place. "You all have five seconds to start explaining what just happened and why I'm not asleep right now."

Wyatt ducks his head, following the figure that approaches. "They were fighting."

"Shut up, Wyatt." Craig snaps, gazing beyond me and at whoever is circling the crowd. "Sergeant, I swear, we weren't fighting. Physically, at least."

The weak semicircle around us is breached by Sergeant Lee in his undergarments. If this weren't the occasion at hand, I would find humor in this situation. But since I am holding the two class officers away from each other and have Craig's shirt gripped, I don't think any of us are going to be laughing. I'll have to explain myself over nothing.

"Then tell me, Sergeant Larsson; why does Private Tross appear as if he is restraining you? It simply doesn't add up."

I release Craig and he distances himself from me. As Hal sits up from his bed, I confront Lee. "They were fighting, but it was about me. Just like all the other times."

"Is this true?" Lee gauges the rest of the audience. They look at each other before nodding in accordance with me. Thank you. "Why were they fighting, then?"

"I woke up screaming and Craig got angry. Hal stood up for me."

"Stood up for you?" Craig presses himself in front of me. "He fucking jumped me. I was walking away from the situation and he started beating the shit out of me."

Sergeant Lee trains a finger at his lesser. "Watch your tone, Larsson. van Lester, was the nature of your attack intentional?"

Hal glares at Craig and I. Why would he be mad at me? I'm doing my best not to incriminate him but his mortal enemy made the situation that much worse by escalating the matter. In no way am I on his side for this, but Hal grabbing and whipping him to the ground was uncalled for and unnecessary. That was one of the few times I have seen an imperfection in Hal's virtue.

"Brayden, you should hear the things that Craig says about Slater. He's a terrible leader and I've had it with his shit." Hal pursues the elder Sergeant who gazes down on him. "I don't know who ranked this asshole to be the Sergeant but there is no way that he's going to command us."

Craig strides so his shoulders meet with Hal's. I'm now stuck in their shadow. "You better yell at him too for cursing at you like that. Are you going to let him say that to me? I'm ranked higher than him and I have every right to use my authority."

"No, you don't!" Hal raises his voice. "You being ranked higher doesn't mean you can treat people like shit whenever you want."

"Enough!" Sergeant Lee roars. "Both of you need to stop and work this out right now. The last thing this class needs is your differences to set you two apart. The authority struggle is superficial and you both know it. It sounds like you two need a disciplinary meeting with an officer."

Hal inches away from us. "Brayden, please don't. We'll work it out." With his voice stumbling, that sounds like a plea to me.

Lee stays in his place and watches the Corporal draw near. "As a matter of fact, I'll file the report right now." He turns away from our group and looks up at the ceiling. "Master Sergeant Petry, these two kids cannot make up their mind as to whether or not they want to kill each other. They are busy fighting over a boy. As a bonus, I'll send him, too."

I split Hal and Craig. "You can't do that, Lee. I was just trying to break it up since it was about me."

The Sergeant swivels back to me with a gleam in his eye. "And the boy they are fighting is openly defiant toward his superior officer." With that, my lips zip shut. Lee disappears behind the group of kids and out the door to the hallway. I wonder if he'll actually write that report.

Hal moves past me without regard to get to his bed. The rest of the top ten stand spectator to us, still. "Way to go, Craig. Now we'll have to sit in front of that shithead Petry and pour our hearts out."

"How is it my fault that you attacked me for no fucking reason?" Craig snakes around me and ascends the ladder to his bed. "You should be yelling at Slater, not me. We would still be sleeping if he wasn't a little baby having nightmares."

I gaze at our excuse for a Sergeant close to the ceiling, squinting. "Me, a baby? You get upset whenever I do something, usually something that I can't control. I'm sorry that someone is making me do these things."

He twirls in his sheets, showing his back to me. "Yeah, whatever. Just go to bed, you wuss."

Hal sits on his bed with his legs bent. His elbows rest on top of his knees. "Sorry that he's being such a douche, Slater. We'll have to go see Petry but we'll work it out from here, right Craig?" He raises his hand and smacks the cage that holds the Sergeant's mattress. There is no response from above. He looks back at me before scrunching down to lay flat. "We'll work this out."

I hear footsteps behind me, but they are lulling. I stay put. "Hal, listen. I appreciate you looking out for me, but please stop getting aggressive. It makes both of us look bad. If he's threatening you, that's when you fight. But not when it's civil."

"Yeah, whatever. Just let me do what I think is right." He flips onto his stomach and lays his head onto its side. "Get some sleep, dude. Big day tomorrow."

I start for my double bunk bed where CJ is settling down on the bottom. The rest of our class is tucking themselves under their sheets for what's left of the night. Their dreaming was interrupted by my unfortunate outburst, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. If I yell at Roarke to stop, the whole room will think I'm nuts, if they don't think so already. I'll have to tough it out until he leaves me the hell alone.

I clamber up to my bed where the sheets lay in a heap how I left them. Maybe Hal is right; I could focus on the ceremony tomorrow. Or today, considering the early hour. I have been waiting for this day since I found out I was actually going to be ranked. After the ceremony, I'll be an official member of the Imperial Guard, something I never thought I would say.

But first, I have to work through my issue with Roarke and get to sleep. Let's hope he doesn't try to drown me again.