Training: Part III

The content in this Chronicle and on this website is intended for adults, 18 years and older.

 

Training Day: Part III

An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle

 

            “Oh, buck up, little man!” Chris yelled after his little brother. “I’m sure that if you ask nicely they’ll let you play in the kiddie tent!”

            Other than a slight stiffening of his little brother’s shoulders, Mark didn’t pause as he stormed off towards the woods where he would most likely sit on a fallen tree and pout for the next few hours.

            There was a heavy, long-suffering sigh that he would recognize anywhere. It was the one that most people learned to make after getting to know him.

            “Was that really necessary?” Ephraim asked as they both watched Mark continue storming off, glaring at anyone foolish enough to get in his way as he made his way towards the woods where he would no doubt allow his anger to fester for a few hours before he tried something incredibly stupid to prove them all wrong.

            “Fucking with his head?” Chris asked, making sure that they were talking about the same thing here.

            “Yes,” his father said as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, “fucking with his head. Was it really necessary?”

            Chris watched his brother kick a stick out of his way as he jammed his hands in his front pockets and shrugged. “Necessary? Probably not, but it will probably entertain me in a couple of hours.”

            “And that’s all that matters?” his father asked dryly, finally understanding him.

            “Exactly,” Chris said with a satisfied grin as he watched Mark finally enter the woods and disappear.

            He wasn’t worried about his brother’s safety. He had a level head and had a knack for getting out of trouble, but that’s not why he wasn’t worried. The woods were crawling with Sentinels on patrol, making sure that no one got by them and saw something that wasn’t meant for human eyes. Plus, his father and the rest of the Pytes would hear the boy scream for help if he needed it.

            No, he definitely wasn’t worried, he told himself even as he started to stroll towards the woods, whistling a Justin Bieber song just to fuck with the Sentinels staring at him in horror. He was building himself a nice reputation indeed, he thought proudly as a large Sentinel that outweighed him by a good fifty pounds got the fuck out of his way when he saw Chris approaching. The larger Sentinel did pause to glare at him as he cupped his broken nose before he stormed off towards the first aid tent with the rest of the babies.

            Sighing, because tomorrow his day would probably be filled with large asshole whose egos couldn’t take getting their asses kicked by a young Sentinel would be issuing requests for rematches and bitching and moaning when he knocked them on their asses.

            It was going to be another boring fucking day, but at least he should be entertained when Mark decided to rebel and go kick some Sentinel ass.

            Sighing with anticipation, he sprinted the rest of the way to the woods, making sure to stay out of his brother’s sight so he could watch over his brother in peace and perhaps fit in a nap or two while he waited for Mark to finally show a little bit of that William’s rebellion they were well known for.

 

© Rerum Industries, Inc. 2015. All Rights Reserved.

One Response to “Training: Part III”

  1. Jennie says:

    Poor Mark. Love the Pyte/Sentinel chronicles. I know you’ve had a lot going on
    so thank you for taking the time to write and post this story!

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