After the two gruelling hours of chopping wood, I stumbled back into the house, every muscle in my body screaming. My t-shirt already drenched in sweat. At this rate, I'll have to change into new clothes every two hours.
I had never known pain like this. Not even the time I sprained her ankle doing parkour behind the school cafeteria. Not even the time I hacked for twelve hours straight without food or sleep. This pain was personal.
I barely cross the threshold when Uncle Max intercepts me in the hall.
"Catch," he says, tossing a small black notebook at me. I catch it with reflexes I didn’t even know I had. "Record everything."
I blink at him. "Everything what?"
"Everything you notice. Patterns. Weaknesses. Habits. Yours or someone else’s."
I stare at the cover. Plain. No logo. Just a soft matte surface and a red ribbon bookmark. I roll my eyes. “Would you like me to write a haiku about my blisters as well?”
Uncle Max didn’t smile. "Discipline starts with observation."
Then he walked past me, leaving only the faint scent of pine and sweat. I stand there for a second, still holding the notebook. Something about the request stuck with me. It was weirdly specific.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later, while Uncle Max was out in the backyard chopping wood or doing whatever it was that kept him away, I wandered the house.
My calves throbbed. I’d taken another shower, but it didn’t help much. I had collapsed into bed, but the boredom was killing me. So, I decided to explore the house.
I passed the locked door again.
Still locked.
But this time, I noticed something.
Scuff marks. Faint, near the base. Like the door had been opened and closed recently. The dust was thinner too, just slightly disturbed, as if someone had brushed past it.
I crouched down, tracing the floor with my fingers. My eyes flicked upward and around the frame. That’s when I saw it: a faint seam in the wall beside the doorframe, like a hidden panel. Tucked behind a tall shelf, barely visible.
Curious, I shifted a few books aside and leaned closer. There it was. A small keypad, built into the wall.
I reached out and brushed the surface.
The screen lit up.
ENTER CODE
A cold shiver ran through me.
I backed away, heart drumming. Who installs a hidden keypad in a farmhouse?
What the hell are you hiding, Uncle Max?
UPDATED VERSION OF THE CHAPTER:
After the two gruelling hours of chopping wood, I stumbled back into the house, every muscle in my body screaming. My t-shirt already drenched in sweat. At this rate, I'll have to change into new clothes every two hours.
I had never known pain like this. Not even the time I sprained her ankle doing parkour behind the school cafeteria. Not even the time I hacked for twelve hours straight without food or sleep. This pain was personal.
I barely cross the threshold when Uncle Max intercepts me in the hall.
"Catch," he says, tossing a small black notebook at me. I catch it with reflexes I didn’t even know I had. "Record everything."
I blink at him. "Everything what?"
"Everything you notice. Patterns. Weaknesses. Habits. Yours or someone else’s."
I stare at the cover. Plain. No logo. Just a soft matte surface and a red ribbon bookmark. I roll my eyes. “Would you like me to write a haiku about my blisters as well?”
Uncle Max didn’t smile. "Discipline starts with observation."
Then he walked past me, leaving only the faint scent of pine and sweat. I stand there for a second, still holding the notebook. Something about the request stuck with me. It was weirdly specific.
***
Later, while Uncle Max was out in the backyard chopping wood or doing whatever it was that kept him away, I wandered the house.
My calves throbbed. I’d taken another shower, but it didn’t help much. I had collapsed into bed, but the boredom was killing me. So, I decided to explore the house.
I passed the locked door again.
Still locked.
But this time, I noticed something.
Scuff marks. Faint, near the base. Like the door had been opened and closed recently. The dust was thinner too, just slightly disturbed, as if someone had brushed past it.
I crouched down, tracing the floor with my fingers. My eyes flicked upward and around the frame. That’s when I saw it: a faint seam in the wall beside the doorframe, like a hidden panel. Tucked behind a tall shelf, barely visible.
Curious, I shifted a few books aside and leaned closer. There it was. A small keypad, built into the wall.
I reached out and brushed the surface.
The screen lit up.
ENTER CODE
A cold shiver ran through me.
I backed away, heart drumming. Who installs a hidden keypad in a farmhouse?
What the hell are you hiding, Uncle Max?
End of chapter
Continue to next chapter Chapter Six: Survival trainingPoints:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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137,849 Literary Works • 672,067 Reviews
Hiya Sana! Rox here with a review for your chapter :]
Alright, I went through a few of your previous chapters to get a view of most things and this sure is an interesting novel. The main question that I had while going through them is why Uncle Max is actually making her do the training which she has been doing for about three chapters I believe and I don't think I came across an explanation already (unless I missed it >.>). I feel like this is all hinting towards something much bigger - is he preparing her for something?
I particularly love how you started the chapter, immediately pulling the reader into the scene. And two whole hours of chopping wood? Poor Nova..
I don't know if the line "This pain is personal" is supposed to mean something, but it makes everything much more intriguing.
Aaah, she's learning some real spy stuff now. It adds a whole new layer to things, especially since she needs to write down observations of others' as well, like people like them might constantly be in danger or need to keep track of everything that might concern them. I don't think it's necessarily "weirdly specific", what exactly would that mean? I think it's more of an odd request given the fact that the trainings suddenly shift to writing down observations.
Ooooh, scuff marks, "as if someone had brushed past it". Ugh, I'm sucker for these kind of details. It was time we saw something strange, out of place and quaint. And a small keypad built into wall makes me think there's a hidden door somewhere there, some kind of secret room.
We always knew he was hiding something, but now we actually "know".
Grammer error!
Well, I think this was a solid read, perhaps a bit too short, this seems more like a scene of a chapter for me, but that's just my opinion. I feel like if we had some more descriptions to build surroundings or some other actions it would be complete. Because now we see two strange things happening right after each other - of course with a break in between in the story, but there could be something else as well. Maybe she starts observing and jotting down random things that might be of use later.
Also, I think Uncle Max is a pretty solid character, however, I would love to see some more reactions or more character traits, so the readers gets to know him more. Perhaps not about his background info instantly, instead more about the character, small things he does, routines she writes down, small give-aways etc. Of course, these are merely suggestions, and considering them is entirely up to you.
That's it, that's all.
Hope the review has been of value to you!
Cheers,
Roxanne
Had to continue reading, your characters felt so alive. I like how taciturn Uncle Max is. I'm still missing the context on exactly what type of training they are doing but having read the first Alex Rider book this week, this feels more and more like a spy thing. Is Uncle Max a spy? I like how he tells her to note down her observations and two seconds later she starts noticing things like the disturbed dust. It feels very appropriate. I enjoy your dialogue and descriptions, great, great story so far!
Heyy! Thank you so much for continuing to read
"Is Uncle Max a spy?" ...%u2026No comments. You'll just have to read and find out : D
-Sana