A/N: Hi! I have been working in a boom for about 4-5 months, and I really want to get it published, but I decide to let you guys look at it first, because I want some constructive criticism, so really anything that you think that I should add to my story, just leave me a review, and the chapters are long, so I will try to have really, really, long chapters, but I may not be able to update that often
-BellaLovesNutella (check me out on )
When I wake up, I rub the sleep from my eyes, and get out of bed. I glance in the mirror, and see what I always see; my violet eyes, with darts of magenta swirling on the outside. I see my pale peach lips, which nearly match my complexion, and my dark black hair. My hair falls in front of my eyes, and when I brush it I notice that I had I sweat through the night, which makes my pajamas stick to my body. I dress in the bland blue and gray outfit that I'm required to wear. I try pulling down my shirt, but it still goes to my hips. Normally we have to wear shirts halfway down to our knees or longer, but they make exceptions to the children who are growing. Lacing up my gray sneakers, I walk out into the hallway. The hall light glitters as the sunshine peers through the window that is located amongst the right side of the hallway.
I always notice little things, "Hey, Drew," I call out before my brother stepped out the door.
"How did you know I was here?" he asks, frustrated.
"Magic!" I say with crazy hand motions.
"Whatever Jackson," he says walking next to me in the hallway. When I sit down to breakfast, my mom puts down a bowl of hot oatmeal, and I can see the steam rise and disappear into the air.
"Jackson," my mother begins once I have finished my oatmeal.
"Yes?" I ask, wiping my lips on my sleeve.
"Can you come into the study? Your father and I need to talk to you... Privately." She darts her eyes, looking for something after the last word.
I know something is wrong when she says this. I take a deep breath because this is an occasion. Normally the library is only open to either an adult, or a scholar. And the scholar position is normally the hardest to get as you must be able to do advanced maths, sciences, and english, before the age of twelve. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I walk into the hallway that links the kitchen from the library. As I push open the heavy oak door, engraved with flowers along the edges, and little suns and moons on the center. One thing seems off though. On the very middle of the door is a little dagger, one with little letters engraved in it. I can just barely make out the letters PEA. I shrug it off, thinking of only the vegetable.
My eyes drink in the sight of the room. Never have I seen so many books in one place. There are four bookshelves on each wall, each containing a minimum of one-hundred books. Brushing the hair that had recently fallen into my eyes, I lower myself into the closest chair, located to my right. My father who was normally at work at this time was sitting next to my mother, clutching her hand. My mother had faint tears in her eyes.
"Mother? Father?" I ask, terrified because a worried expression crosses my father's face.
After what seems like eternity, my father sighs and begins talking. "Jackson, your eyes are violet."
"Yeah. So?" I ask clearly not understanding what the big deal is.
My mother, tightly clutching her white embroidered handkerchief, shoots my father a worried and confused look.
"In school, they haven't talked about the Purple Eyed Assassins?" My mother asks, as my father clears his throat.
"Darling, they didn't mention it for a while when I was in school. Although there was a girl who had purple eyes, and they never talked about it, until she, well, disappeared."
The word hangs in the air, leaving an unbearable silence before I jump up.
"What?" I nearly scream, jumping up and pushing my chair back.
Trying to comprehend how on earth I could be an assassin, I sit down but soon jump back up to make my point. "I can't hurt a fly," I nearly scream. "What makes you think that I could be an assassin?"
With a few more deep breaths, I continue my rants. "Any chance you could have told me that I would be an assassin before I was, I don't know, sixteen!"
My mother and father normally would send me to my room for the rest of the night for speaking to them with such disrespect, but they seem unfazed.
After a moment of silence, my mother places a hand on mine, and motions at me to sit down. I sit, and meekly she says, "Jackson, honey. We could have waited until you were eighteen to tell you, but we thought that the most experienced would be in the eighteenth year. We wanted you to be as prepared as your opponents for the assassin training."
I peer into her frail blue eyes, and my father's strong hazel eyes. I'm quiet for a moment, before responding.
"How?" I ask
"What do you mean?" my father asks.
"How will I be an assassin?"
"You will go through the training," he says nonchalantly.
"Why? Why was I picked?"
"Fate decided that you would have purple eyes."
"They are violet," I say with my voice raising.
"What difference does it make?" my father spits out.
"When do I go to training?"
"Next Monday," he says, his eyes boring into mine.
"Do I need to go to school in this next week?"
"This is the time for goodbyes. This last week we will ever see you. Unless there is a war between the nations. But that is quite unlikely. Supposedly there is peace. But unless there is a war on the brink of happening, or we must ration our food or drink, they don't tell us much," my mother says meekly.
My father shoots her a glare, and then turns to me, "Listen to me closely Jackson, because I will not be repeating myself. You may fill this backpack with anything you would like, but choose carefully, because these will be the only things that you make take from home and they will provide you with food and clothing. Any more questions?" He holds up a deep violet backpack, with my name engraved on the right strap.
I shake my head, and take the backpack from my father's hand. Once I step out into the hallway, I catch my breath, and look into the backpack. On the bottom there is a little scrap of paper with perfect cursive writing on the side facing downwards. I want to pick it up, but something stops me. I decide to talk to my brother first. I choose not to tell him about me having to be an assassin. The word wants to make me barf, and yet it also scares me. This has to be a fluke. Drew seems much more likely to be the assassin. He was the captain of both the basketball and the wrestling team. I bite my lip, and walk down the hall. When I reach my brother, he is grabbing his lunch from the counter, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees me.
"Mom and Dad told you that you have to be an assassin. Right?" he ask, looking at my backpack. I nod my head slowly, and ask meekly, "How did you know?" It comes out as a whisper.
"Because we have no assassins in my class. I mean soon to be assassins. They don't want to tell the kids their future. Mostly because once the purple eyed kids were told, they normally would try to commit suicide."
After a moment of silence, I ask in a louder voice than I mean to, "Tell me what they taught you in the classes. I think it's okay if you are late. After all, after next week I might never see you again."
He nods his head, and sits down in the chair.
"The assassins are normally told at the age of twelve through sixteen. The latest and most skilled are told at eighteen, and the one who don't want a major amount of competition are told from four through eleven. The four year olds who are told, well, they tend to be the most ruthless. They kill without looking back because they don't know what they are doing. First you will go through a short four or five day session of training, that will lead up to the challenge. You will have to kill a random number of the others, to continue. Once you have killed that number of people, you will have to climb the golden statue of the first assassin, James Leonardo and put a token from each of the members you have killed it one of its hands. Then you climb up to the head, and wait for a hovercraft to fly over and pick you up. Then you will be transported to the base, where no one except the assassins know where that is. Once you have completed your training, once a year you go on special raids and searches to the neighboring villages, and see if there is any serious crimes being committed. Other than that, because there are normally no wars between nations, so other than that once a year thing, you normally don't get to see the sun. So if I were you I would work on getting a tan if I were you, because you might only get to see sunlight once a year. Now, let me not burden you with these stories, because who knows if you will ever be able to get past the murder trial."
On that happy note, I excused myself into my room. When I get there I throw myself onto the bed, and tears fall out of the corners of my eyes. I rock myself back and forth, back and forth, until I fall asleep.
My dream is strange. I'm in a dimly lit hallway, and I can just about make out shadows dancing across the walls. One girl, and one boy. Their silhouettes, show that the girl is clutching something, that looks like a knife, while the boy is trailing shortly behind her, holding a small box. "Hello!" I call out, but the only response I get is my echo bouncing amongst the walls. I reach out to walk, but I can't seem to move. "Move," I mutter harshly to myself. I try to force myself to move as the silhouettes turn direction. The shadows flicker against the wall, and they near me. Suddenly, the lights flicker out. I feel like rocks are being piled on top of me, and I can't breathe. Everywhere I look is a pit of black, and there are ghostly fingers brushing against my limbs. I try to move, but fail once again. Struggling to breathe, I force my limbs to move. After numerous tries, I can feel my fingers wiggle, but only slightly.
I hear a gasp, and a deep voice remark, "He's alive!?" A shiver runs down my spine, and I want to move. I try wiggling my fingers, and it works. My muscles feel stiff, and unused. I try opening my eyes, which feels like they are glued shut. Someone lifts my eyes for me which seems weird, and there is a girl standing in front of me. She has dark eyes in a hue of purple, but everything is somewhat fuzzy and I can't make out the colors clearly. Her hair is either a shade of black or brown, but the exact color is unknown, and is about hip length. Her lips are a dark color, and her bangs fall in front of her eyes.
She bites her lip and waves. "I'm Greta," she says quietly. She has dark eyes, and darker lips, yet her skin is very pale. "And this is Ryan." She points to a boy my age, who looks a little shorter than me. He has lighter eyes than her, but darker hair. I think it is brown or black, but once again, I'm not sure. From what I can tell, his skin is very tan, which shows to me that he must be a harvester in a neighboring village. In my village, there are only miners, merchants, or teachers. The government officials come from the Far North Village, in a tribe called the Canadians. I think about the only good thing about being an assassin, that I would have been doomed to spend the rest of my life underground, mining the Nitro ore, which they say is what built the ground of our nation, on the ashes of a fallen nation, which was the successor of another fallen nation.
Back thousands of years ago, there was a nation called the United States, now called Alyssum, which is where I live. One day, whilst we were celebrating their independence from the country of Britain, which is now known as The Sacred Ones. On the seven-hundred and sixty four year of their independence, they were attacked by what they used to call Germany, but now is now called The Barren Land, because after the nuclear wars, launched from Germany, and to Germany, all the radioactivity sunk into the ground, causing a hole in the ozone layer over the north-eastern part of Germany. Now if you ever want to set foot in that place again, you must be wearing the Titan, which is an indestructible platinum body suit, and where the heart should be is a chunk of Nitro, that powers everything in it.
Long ago they let people in The Barren Land, without the Titan, and the people came out hideously deformed, with eyes and limbs missing, and instead of blood in their veins, they had a thick orange substance in their veins, that was so immensely hot, it ended up melting the person, from inside out.
They had their skulls ripped open, and whenever they stood close to Nitro they would give off a milky green light, and they would start having seizures. They would shake violently, and sometimes even die, when they got close to our lifeblood substance.
"Move Jackson," says Ryan. His voice is deep, yet clear, and reminds me of honey. I try and stretch out my legs, and this time it worked. My muscles stiff, yet somehow they moved. I pull myself into a sitting position.
"Who are you, and how do you know my name?" I ask peering into Ryan's eyes.
"You will find out soon enough. Just look for us. Now, it is time to part." Ryan says and then looks to Greta.
"Wake, Jackson," Greta says waving her hand infront of my face.
I open my eyes, and I am back into my room. It's pale gray with blue trim on the edges. I sit up, and look at the clock. It's six in the morning, which means I have slept all day and all night. I take my backpack, and look around my room. I take my favorite stuffed animal, which is a beaten up little elephant, called Teddy. When I was younger, my favorite word was teddy. I would call everyone and everything teddy.
The rain pelts the small window as I get ready for the day. I look at the small bookshelf located in the corner of my room. I take my sketchbook, that I always draw in and my special pencil and pens. I have nothing much in my room. I take the last thing of any importance from my room. I have a little necklace with a small Nitro stone located in the middle. surrounding the edges of the Nitro stone are rubies, because I was born in the month of July. I take the necklace, and put it on.
The backpack is still quite empty, and I have nothing much else.
I sit on my bed pondering about the people in my dream. They seemed so real. I imagine the girl's face once more. I can't think of what village she is from. I know she isn't from here because even the people who work as miners aren't as pale.
I run a comb through my hair, and I quickly dress. I sneak out the hallway, and into the living room. I feel like I need some air to clear my thoughts. I sit out on the porch, before doing a daring thing. I run into the rain. I brace for the rain to pelt my skin, and kill me, but I don't feel anything. I feel like I am under some overhang of a roof, or something.
I look around me, and see the raindrops slide down an invisible bubble. Nitro, will get ruined in the rain, so whenever it rains, we don't have to go outside. One time someone tried to go outside in the rain, and the rain splashed onto their Nitro orb, that weakened their life, and then, the Nitro disintegrated, killing the person instantly.
When the Nitro disintegrates, you die. When you are born, you have a Nitro crystal in your hand, about the size of a baby's foot. Every year it shrinks just a little bit. If you get diagnosed with a deathly disease, the Nitro orb can shrink right before your eyes.
Looking at the rainfall among me, but not on me, is very strange. I brace myself for this imaginary bubble to burst and the rain to fall and kill me. I run around the streets, and creep up to my favorite store in the world. The sweets store. I think of the one law that can benefit me, and me only.
Once the "Rule of the Rain," as we call it, was put in place, they government decided to have some fun. Each year, we have to watch a video about on the days of the rain, if any of us dare to go out into the rain, we may take from any store. No punishment for stealing. Because our houses and stores have no locks, the punishment for stealing is great. Death immediately. They hang you in front of everyone in your village.
I open the door and a strong peppermint smell hits my nose. I look around, and find a small basket. I look around, and my mouth waters. I get some drool on the floor, and take that as the signal to start. I take some red cherry licorice whips, some peppermint patties, mints, and lollipops. The colors swirl in my mind, as I take some chocolate. Gumballs soon fill my palms, and the basket is filled with treats and goodies. I take a piece of paper, and write down in my neatest print;
As the law dictates, on rainy days, the law of stealing does not take place. I took nine licorice whips, six peppermint patties, three blue mints, eight neon red light ups mints, four lollipops, seven chocolate bars, and three of them had cashews in them, as well as eighteen gumballs of assorted colors.
I leave, and take a bag. The rain still pelts the ground, and I walk home. When I open the door, my parents nearly faint.
"H-h-how did you, g-g-go out into the r-r-rain?" my mother stutters.
"Watch," I say backing up until I'm almost in the rain.
My mother and father brace themselves for my demise, but the rain falls around my invisible bubble. There eyes widen to the size of tea cups.
My father huffs and walks into the house. My mother looks like she wants to stick her hand out into the ran, but with a quick shake of her head, she slinks back inside. Drew peeks his head out the door, and looks as the bag in my hand. A grin creeps across his face, as we both share a mutual understanding. We skitter to Drew's room, and lay the candy on the bed. We divide the candy, and never have I ever had candy this good.
"Mmm..." I sigh with my mouth full. "This is good."
"The best," Drew exclaims wiping his mouth.
Once we are done, I waddle back to my room. Then a memory hits me. The scrap of paper on the bottom of the bag. I grab it, and I have a deep dark feeling in the pit of my stomach that it will be something bad.
As you may know that you have purple eyes, and you live in the ore village. I hope you enjoyed the candy, but may I suggest that you don't do that again. That might arouse suspicion. Now as for the items in your backpack, I would suggest packing something for the three day trip in the car. There will be food, drink, and a bed, but you must provide your own blanket.
Good luck, and I do hope that you keep your head up.
-The PEA's Leaders, Janice, Anna, McKayla, Andrew, Jeffery, and Steve
I wonder why the people told me to keep my head up, how they knew what was in my bag, and how I went out into the rain and took the candy. I stand up, and take a sharp breath. The rain is clearing up to a light mist, and the sun is trying to peek through the heavy gray clouds looming over the world. I grab a dull, baby puke green blanket. I pack three days worth of clothes, just in case, and flop my body on my bed.
After five minutes or so, my mother knocks on my door, and she daintily tells me, "Dinner is ready, Jackson." I shuffle to my door, and then to the dining room. I sit down next to my dinner, and eat the chicken, potatoes, peas, strawberries. Once my father sits down he shoots me a glance, and I sip my milk.
Eating my food in silence, whilst my family makes small talk, the subject of me comes up. "Jackson," my mother begins. "We have something to tell you. Um… Alex?" she asked her eyes darting to my father.
"I'm just going to get this over with. We were supposed to tell you last Wednesday that you were going to the Assassin Camp, which is what we normally call it. So… What's going to happen is you will need a good night's sleep. So I would suggest that you should go to bed in a couple of minutes."
Tears sting the back of my eyes, as all I think about is how my parents couldn't think about telling me this before. It's almost like they don't care.
I retreat back to my room, and curl up on the bed. The sun is just setting, turning the gray clouds into many different hues of blues, purples, reds, and pinks. Once on the bed, I let the tears flow freely. The dull gray blankets, and the green pillow cases are stained by my silent tears.
I look up at the ceiling, and wait for the waves of sleep to engulf me, yet I can only lay closer to the sandy shore of the beach of sleep.
When I finally fall asleep, my clock reads that it is well past midnight. When I wake up in the morning, the sun is peeking above the horizon, and there is a sharp knock on my door. "Come in," I mumble. Drew walks in, hands trembling, and gives me a small wrapped present. "Don't open this until you are in the car." He walks out of my room, and I get dressed. Brushing my shaggy hair out of my eyes, I breathe a sigh and let a tear roll down my cheek. I grabbed my backpack, and walked out. Before I left, I scanned the room, and I made sure that I had everything.
Walking to the kitchen, I keep my eyes down, and when I arrive at the table, I place the small present in the side pocket of the backpack. I take the little muffin from the table, and glance at the small crystal glass filled with orange juice. This is a special treat, and because the citrus village is a many day trip away, we only get lemons, oranges, and limes on very special occasions. I can't bring the sour smelling substance to my lips, and I hear a horn honk after two or three minutes.
Inhaling a quick, sharp breath, my parents and Drew walk in from the hallway. The dull gray and the dull blue of their clothes, looks more vibrant than ever.
As far as final good-byes go, this is by far the dullest. My brother gave me a quick hug before scampering away to his room. My mother gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and then retreated to the big royal blue velvet loveseat in the corner of the room. As much as she is trying to conceal her wailing sobs, every couple of minutes, a loud sob fills the room.
After ten minutes my father gives me a handshake, and guides me out the door. The long, dark, car, awaits in the rough patch of grass we call our front yard. My father looks like he wants to say something, but instead he just opens the door for me.
I step into the long dark car, and sit in one of the curved seats. In front of the seats, a dark thin box flips down from the roof. The door slams shut, and the car drives off.
I look out the window as the scenery rushes by. The green of the pine trees seem to take up the sky, and the dark dirt, mixes with the black dust. The houses pass by, none looking different than the others, other than the shape of the hedges, or the ores lining the walkway to the door.
I see people gathering outside on their porches and doorsteps. The people who are too scared to come out, press their faces against the windows. I look down at the ground, and open my backpack, looking for something to make me disappear. I curl up on the seat, when I hear a sharp buzz ring through the air.
Bringing my head up, I look at the small screen. The screen flickers, and then a face appears.
"Hello Jackson," the face on the screen begins. It's a man, somewhere in his late sixties, maybe early seventies. He has deep magenta eyes with deep red flecks in the middle of them.
The man in the screen continues "I hope you enjoyed your last goodbyes to your families. If you look out the window you may see other cars, with a light purple roof, and I advise you not to look at the other patrons, but if you wish you may. There is a dark, oak box, about a half a foot in length, a quarter foot in width, and seven inches tall. In there is a book of rules, which you must read. From cover to cover!"
The screen flickers off, and I look out the right side window. I debate whether or not to grab my book right now. I decide against it, keeping in my mind, one fact that sticks out of my cluttered head. It is supposed to be a three day car trip, so I assume that I have some time to relax.
We are heading to the outskirts of the village, and the sky is a gray type of black, which makes me assume that it will rain shortly.
As the barrier signaling the ending of the village, a tall chain link fence, towering thirty feet or so in the sky. There is one lone house, with a dirt path, that leads back to the town. The path has a jewel every five feet or so appears, about the size of my fist.
The house towers about four stories tall, and on the top there is a window. Circular, it looks like nothing much, but I can see two faces peeking behind the curtain, that drapes over the window. The two children, have pudgy faces, with rounded cheeks, and white teeth, that look like pearls. There is a girl on the right and she has light blond hair, with blue edges. She has dark hazel eyes, and a thin nose. The boy on the other hand, looks almost completely the opposite of the girl. He has light blue eyes, and dark hair. He has glasses about as thick as a book, and has weird wires lacing over his teeth, and although they look like braces, they are different in someway, because they have straps that wrap over his head. The girl looks younger, around six or seven, while the boy looks around nine or ten. The children has tears streaming down their faces, and tears staining their velvet clothing. I realize why. There are two other cars, both with a lilac colored roof, one right after another in the driveway. There are two girls, whom are obviously twins, walking down the dirt path. They have long, copper hair, with an occasional streak of a bronze coloring in it. I can only see their heads, and none of their body, but from what I can tell is they are tall, and strongly built.
The cars starts, and drive off. I decide to focus my mind on the book in the box. I reach to grab the box, and when I lift it, it is about thirty times heavier than I expected. I drag it over, and open the lid. Inside is the book, which is very light considering the weight of the box.
The font is smaller than I expect, and there is 50,000 rules.
Welcome to the Assassin Training Guide Book. In here are the rules for once you enter Assassin Base Camp
Rule 1: There will only be one Assassin In Training that you may talk to, of whom you will meet on the first day.
Rule 2: You may not be allowed to kill your partner, but if you kill the person who killed your partner, within twenty-four hours, you may take back the pendant, as well as the pendant from the killer.
Rule 3: You may only take one pendant from the dead, and after that one pendant has been taken, the body shall remain there.
The rules are pretty boring, but I managed to survive, fifty THOUSAND of those rules.
As I grew tired into the night, I looked around, but there was nowhere to sleep other than upright, and I had also had nothing to eat for dinner.
I stare out the window, as the scenery rushes by. We enter a village, as the sun starts dipping below the everlasting horizon.
I recognize this as the stardust village. This is where most of the space rocks fall, and where they have most of the space things. Like ships and junk like that. They have also found a way to go to Neptune, and collect diamonds to crush into star dust to make the protecting powers of the Nitro orbs.
The screen flashes six, and then in the middle of the car, a plate arises, holding a small bowl, filled with a yellowy-clear colored broth, with chunks of carrots, celery, and chicken. I ate a few bites, and then the salad arrises. A plate the size of two saucers, thinly dressed with lettuce and cherry tomatoes, with a small bowl of dressing on the side.
I finish that, and then the main course arrives. It is a chicken curry, with different spices mixed into the sauce. The chicken is grilled, with onion chunks floating around the sauce.
After I finish that, the dessert, and coffee is served. The dessert is a small cake, that tastes like strawberries. I eat some of it, but I feel too full to continue. I bring my lips to the dark brown substance in front of me. It smells bitter, and I take a small sip. I manage to gag it down, but I decide not to have anymore.
No one is outside, as they are probably all eating dinner. The night grows darker, as the colors of the sunset. I notice something flicker on the screen, and the man appears on the screen.
"Hello Jackson," he begins.
"I see you have enjoyed dinner. On your right there is a little lever. When you pull it, a ladder will lead you up to your sleeping chambers. You may place your clothing in the wardrobe. When you would like a meal, or a snack push the button to your left."
The screen flickers off, but then suddenly on.
This time a woman with thin blond hair, tied in a bun, appears. She has wrinkles along her face, and deep circles under her eyes, like she hasn't slept in a month. Her lips are a light pink, and pressed tightly together, looking like she hadn't smiled in years.
"Hello Jackson. You don't need to know my name, because to be acquainted properly with me, you must be able to survive the Assassin Training. Now, just remember that everyone has a weakness, so I would pray that you don't acquaint with any of the others in the Base Camp."
The screen folds up, and I get up. I reach for the lever, and the ladder folds down from the ceiling. I see light shimmering down, illuminating the bottom of the ladder. I grab my backpack, sling it over my shoulder, and climb up the ladder.
I look around at the room. It has dark purple walls, and a small circular window behind the canopy bed. The bed has light periwinkle sheets and comforter. There are about seven pillows on the bed, and I toss four of them off the bed and onto the floor. I take my backpack, place Teddy on the bed. And throw my backpack on the ground, next to the pillows.
I shut the white window blind to close the shimmer of the moon. I climb under the blankets, and shut my eyes. Slamming my face into the pillow, I groan from tiredness, and shut my eyes.