Vixen Academy; Chapter 2-3

I know this is kind of rushed, but since in Chapter 1 it had it only in the span of one day, I thought having another chapter sooner would be nice. I didn't separate chapters because they both fit in together so well.

Training day. Oh, wonderful. I woke up to the sound of Peter yelling my ear.

"Jesus, I'm up, did someone die?" I say to him.

"No, but you only have like, three hours until training." He responded.

"Of course I do. I planned for it." I tell him, sarcastically.

"Yeah, sure. Your uniform is in the closet." He told me, before slipping into his own closet to change.

"Why the heck would he go into a dark clo-" I stop as I open my closet door. It's a vast room, filled with clothes, and a changing room.

I quickly switch into the training clothes, skin-tight black and yellow suits with the letters VA on the chest. Comfortable, and easy to move in, but very power generator like. I like it.

"You never mentioned the closet was a walk in closet." I tell him.

"Didn't think it was important." He said, saying it like it was an every day thing.

"It's a freaking walk in closet. Of COURSE it's important!" I say, grinning.

He doesn't respond, and I make a few assumptions.

1: He comes from a rich family.

2: He's sarcastic.

3: He's not as bad as I thought.

"You look like an Oompa Loompa in that suit." I say, playfully.

"Well you look like..." He stops, thinking about what to say next.

"A fatty?" I offer.

"Yes." He smiles at me, and I wonder if he's actually nice under all that brutality. Probably.

I walk out the door, and see a massive hulk of pushing students, yelling teachers, and red-faced seniors.

"Just a wonderful day in Wonderland..." I mutter to myself.

I squeeze myself into the hulk, and weave my way as close to the front as I can get. We're slowly allowed in, and I realize just how long this training will be. There are multiple seniors, a few sophomores, and a huge crowd of juniors in the stadium. The rest are all people I don't know. I'm one of the people in the middle of the line, so I stand there and watch the matches for awhile.

Pretty soon, I'm called up over the loudspeaker. Nobody here knows my abilities, and I'm not sure I know them myself. All eyes are on me as I enter the stadium. I look across the stadium to see who I'm facing.

It's Sara.

I feel a pit in my stomach as I look at the leaderboard. Whoever loses this will probably be kicked out of the academy. Sara has a life back home. I don't. That's what I tell myself, over and over in my head. I'm trying to make myself feel better, roughing up my mind, but I just can't do it. But I have to. That's when I realize she's already charging at me, two daggers poised at my kneecaps.

I think fast, concentrating on her. A blue glow covers me, and my telepathy prods her mind, and she falls backwards, landing on her back, the wind knocked out of her. She writhes in pain before I gingerly step forward, allowing the pain to dim. I can't do this. But then, it's like some other force takes me. My hand bubble blue, and she screams in pain. I look to the leaderboard, and see my points rising slowly. Then, I get an idea.

"Act like I'm still hurting you, and attack me? It'll raise both our points." I say it slowly in her mind, and dim the pain, but concentrate my energy elsewhere, so my aura still glows.

Fire blooms in her palms, and she throws it at me. I easily deflect it, a telepathic shield blocking her attempts. Her points, as well as mine, rise. We're safe now. I then blast her in her mind, just to get the extra points for winning. She calls for mercy, and a platform descends from the ceiling, a man pedaling it up and down. We get inside, and are brought up. Points are taken, and the last few matches take place.

Soon, the results are on the leaderboard. 350 tryouts, only 200 slots. I see my name, fourth place. Not too shabby, but I wish I could of done better. Sara is lower, but still good, at seventeenth. Peter made it to second, and Megan landed a comfortable spot in third. Soon, we're all returning to our dorms through a cramped hallway. I finally break free, hitting the door to my room face first. Peter laughs as he walks up, and unlocks the door.

"Thanks." I tell him.

"Haha, no problem, especially for an idiot like yourself." Peter grins.

"You're not very nice!" I stick my tongue out at him.

"Mmmhmm. Nice job, by the way. Fourth is none too shabby." He tells me.

"Yeah, I guess." I seem a little disappointed.

"Have you trained before?" He asks.

"No..." I answer.

"Then you shouldn't be disappointed at all," He says, "I've been training for years, and I got second."

"Fair enough." I say as I walk into the door, and flop onto my bed.

I soon fall into a dreamless sleep, blackness is all I see. All of the sudden, blackness turns to a massive stadium, and I am floating outside of my body. My body is decked in armor, a sword and a shield, and Sara is at the other end, unarmored, in nothing but her undergarments. "STOP!" I yell at myself, but I'm already charging at Sarah. Blood pours over the ground as people in the stadium cheer. "GET UP!" A voice rages, coming from my own mouth. It sounds just like Peter...

I'm slapped awake, and Peter is standing over me.

"Three hours early again?" I grin.

"Nope, ten minutes." He responds.

"WHAT?" I leap out of bed, running into my closet and grabbing my training uniform. I slip it on, and dash out the door, grabbing a doughnut from the box that was delivered in the middle of the night. I eat one as I sprint through the massive hallways, barely reaching it to my first class in time.

Professor Yingmitch, the strictest teacher in the history of the world, EVER, stands at the front of the class, glaring as I shove the last bit of doughnut into my mouth and give a thumbs up as I sit down.

"Late, Mr. Morris?" He yells at me.

"Actually, I'm just on time." I respond, smiling as I show him the clock.

He shuts up, and continues with the lesson he was teaching too early. I watch, bored, and stare at the chandelier at the top of the roof. I wonder...

I focus on a bulb, and I glow blue momentarily. The bulb falls right on Yingmitch's head, and he turns, red faced. I sit there, acting completely good. His eyes narrow on me. "

"Telepath. C'mere, NOW!" He screams at me.

"Coming sir." I say sweetly.

"I want you to demonstrate the proper form when fighting." Professor Yangmitch says to me.

Luckily, I had been practicing that. I give the form right away, and he dismisses me to my seat. I sit through the rest of the class.