Dᴇᴄᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 31, 2020
It's the last night of the year, New Year's Eve, and there are special tasks being distributed to every student, individually; their first test. Children, ranging from the age of 10 to 16 are scattered across the matted floor of the training room, awaiting their instructions, with Petro pacing before them, and Nobosklav wheeling a desktop into the room.
"Do you remember why you're here?" Petro turns to them as the computer is being set up.
A random brunette from the group raises her hand, "To find a purpose?"
"Yes." Petro nods. "You all work for me, but this is a part I never told you. I needed to know where your loyalty stands. If this is all a joke to you or if you take the classes seriously." He says in a thick Russian accent. "You also work for the people. They make the calls, I give the orders."
A few mumblings begin and a voice protrudes from the noise. "What people?"
"The people of this state."
The student body share glances of confusion and Nobosklav stands straight after getting the computer running. He shoots the back of Petro's head a look, wondering why the man won't just tell them straight up. "You're all training to be assassin's. You're going to kill." He tells them flatly.
"What the hell?" A girl swears beneath her breath, while a boy stands abruptly.
"I want out! I want no part in being a murderer!" He speaks loudly.
Nobosklav sighs and Petro glares at the child. "Do you want to die?"
"O-of course not." He gapes, as everyone looks up at the man in sudden fear.
"Then accept your purpose. Nobody was brought here with any. Take what you get, or you can try to leave."
"Try." Nobosklav echoes for emphasis. Not to be annoying, but he knows his brother and he knows that once the man is set on something, if he can't stop him, no one else can.
The boys sits, disgruntled by his lack of choice, but deep down he promises himself he'll find a way out. Alexa peers at him from her seat beside Phillip in the back. She knows the look he wears on his face.
She knows a lot of things.
She knows someone is going to die tonight. She turns back to listen to Petro as he continues; not even an ounce of care for the stubborn boy who will do something stupid later. Kindness gets you nowhere. Everyone will stab you in the back at least once in their lifetime.
"Here on this computer are a list of calls we've been getting from people." Petro announces, going towards the ancient device with a black round screen and green, bold lettering. "They either want someone dead, disabled, or, simply put, warned." He turns the screen to them, "These are coded as red, blue or green tags. Green-a simple warning, meaning you hurt them, just a bit. Blue-you can either break something or take a sense," Phillipeño flinches, "as long as it leaves a scar on them. Red-you kill them and that's that."
The room is quiet. Alexa leans slightly against Phillip, kids that have gotten acquainted with each other shares an unsure look.
"Any questions?" Many, but none asked. Petro beams. "Excellent! Who wants to know their target first?"