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Training Day #2
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Chris managed to pull off with an innocent expression that Marc hoped to perfect one day, “Did I hurt you?”
The Sentinel cupping his bloody nose while he lay on the ground, helpless to move after the beating Chris had just given him, simply glared.
“Was I not supposed to hurt him?” Chris asked no one in particular as he looked around, appearing innocent and making Marc bite back a smile. “The rules weren’t really clear about that.”
“Asshole,” the last guy that Chris had fought against muttered as he hobbled past them towards the first aid tent.
“Oh, did I hurt you?” Chris asked, blinking innocently which earned a glare from the guy that Marc would from this day refer to as, “Hobbles.”
“Are you trying to get us kicked out?” Dad asked with that long-suffering sigh that he seemed to use only for Chris. Marc looked forward to driving their dad to the point that he needed to come up with a sigh or a growl just for him one day.
Chris blinked over at their father while the rest of them struggled not to laugh. “Yes, yes I am. Was I not clear about that before we started?”
“Nice try, asshole, but you’re not going anywhere,” Eric, their assigned Sentinel leader said with a sigh that matched their father’s as he walked past them, not even bothering to pause as he hit Chris upside the head with his clipboard.
If it hurt Chris, it didn’t show because he was back to taunting the poor guy on the ground. As much as Marc loved his brother and was thoroughly entertained by him, Marc hadn’t come here just to sit back and watch. He wanted to train with the rest of them, because one day it would be his job to protect his family and he wanted to be prepared for it.
Not bothering to tell his father where he was going, because he knew that his father would be able to find him easily, Marc hoped off the fence post where he’d been scoping out this afternoon’s events and decided to head for the training area for the Sentinel kids. They’d have the advantage since they were already stronger and faster than him, but that was fine with him. He was here to learn, not win.
“Where are you going, little man?” Chris asked as he caught up with him, apparently bored with wiping the floor with the rest of the Sentinels.
Granted, Chris was the regional trainer and was supposed to actually teach the Sentinels new ways of fighting and how to take down an opponent faster. He beat them, holding nothing back and while some complained, and many did, he did end up teaching them how to move out of his way faster.
“To train,” Marc said, gesturing towards the section for juniors.
“I can train you, little man,” Chris offered, which shouldn’t frighten him, but it did. He’d seen his brother’s training methods enough times to know that he should probably wait until he went through his immortality before he got in the ring with him.
His brother and father and the rest of the Pytes at home taught him basic moves, how to throw a punch, and block a move, but he had yet to put those skills to the test to see where he stood. He’d playfully played around with brother and father in the ring, but they always held back and always let him win, making it look as though they were on the verge of death from his impressive fighting skills.
He’d rather find out the truth by getting in the ring with a kid his own age and seeing what he-
“Hold up, little man,” Chris said, sounding serious as he grabbed onto Marc’s arm and pulled him back before he could enter the Junior’s area.
“What’s up?” he asked, not really paying attention to his brother as he looked around, watching the kids from as young as four to eighteen fight, do relay games and put their skills to the test.
“You can’t go in there,” Chris admitted with a look that told Marc that he was serious.
Frowning, Marc asked, “Why not?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Chris said the one thing that he’d never expected to hear from his brother.
“Because it’s too dangerous for you.”
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