Coup de Feu
The rest of that fateful day with the stitches proved to be quite boring. There wasn’t much he could do with his new-found injury, but according to Jame, it should heal fairly quickly.
So, Siriussy went to sleep that night thinking of everything that had happened to him so far.
It was kind of crazy, if he was being honest. Only one in every hundred kids became Sigmas, and even with that standard, there had been an almost twenty-year gap between the old and new generations of Sigmas. Now, after all this time and all the waiting for another group of children worthy of being Sigmas, Siriussy had been chosen. The only one in his age group. There had only been one or two each year since the recession of Sigmas. The youngest of the Sigmas in charge, or the ones who had been fully trained at least, was fifty-seven! And even he was an enigma.
It was crazy how he was chosen over any other valuable pups. Anyone else who was smarter, stronger, better.
But it was him and he would have to prove that he belonged to himself.
It was a few days later and training was set to begin. Siriussy had finally gotten used to the step-aerobics that his neighbour (whom he had figured out was Banjo) seemed to enjoy in the wee hours of the night and he was well rested and ready for whatever Sigma Dumbledore, who would be leading the training, would throw at him.
Siriussy was in his robe, skinny jeans still all that was in his pants drawer, and pranced down the left side of the stairs, ready for action. At the bottom he ran into Jame, who was headed up the stairs.
“Hey, Jame.” Siriussy nodded at the boy as he passed. Jame nodded back and begun speed-running the stairs, taking them two at a time. Siriussy paused for a few seconds to appreciate the jiggling mess that was Jame’s arse. He sighed and went to continue on, but a high-pitched, nasally voice calling out to Jame stopped him in his tracks.
“Submissively breedable, eh Potter? Surprised you’re not some Beta Bitch,” Sigma Snarp heckled Jame as they passed on the stairs. “Banjo really gives it to you good, huh? I suggest you keep it down before Sigma Dumbledore kicks your sorry arses out into the Omega Village.”
“You listen here Snivellus–” Jame rounded on the greasy boy, fists poised to punch.
“I’m sorry, your bent ears must not be able to comprehend sounds. It’s Sner-ver-us,” Snarp sneered. That was a bad choice on his part, Siriussy concluded as Jame wound his arm back and gave that brown-noser one hell of an uppercut. Snarp went flying, stumbling over the bannister, which happened to be the only thing separating him from a ten metre drop.
As Snarp went over that bannister, the only thing Siriussy could think was, I hope Jame doesn’t get kicked out for this.
Luckily, Sigma Dumbledore was there to use his special Sigma ninja training to back-handspring, back tuck directly under where Snarp would land and catch him mid-air.
When Alby landed, he dropped Snarp at his feet like pond scum and whipped his old man head around, causing his long ass beard to tickle Snarp’s nose and send him into a sneezing fit. That’s what you get for having a giant nose, Siriussy supposed.
“Who the fuck sent this young Sigma flying?” Sigma Dumbledore asked calmly. Jame hung his head low and slowly raised his hand, but Siriussy was faster.
“It was me.” Siriussy raised his hand and ran over to Albus, hand still wobbling in the air.
“Well then, nicely done, young Siriussy. Since this isn’t your first offence, you’ll be let off with a pat on your back, but if you dare re-enact this with any of the young Sigmas we actually like, I cannot promise the same treatment,” Albus chuckled, giving Siriussy a noogie. Siriussy laughed and squirmed out of his capture, running to meet up with Jame who was still standing on the gilded staircase, mouth agape.
“You took the blame for me?” Jame asked quietly, stepping closer than they had ever been before.
“‘Course. That’s what mates are for, innit?” Siriussy gave Jame his best cheeky smirk, and turned to go to his first class, but Jame stopped him, grabbing him by the forearm.
“Hey,” Jame started. Siriussy whipped around, not knowing what to expect. “Save a seat for me, yeah?”
Siriussy nodded, relieved, and continued on to his very first Sigma lesson.
Fifteen minutes later, Siriussy was sat next to Jame in a loud classroom, the desks against the walls and chairs forming a small circle around Professor Grubbyplank, the tactics professor.
“Now boys,” The professor began (A/N: Because I want to kill off the trope of annoying female characters in dystopian novels, there are only guys in Sigma training. This is for the guys and the gays, no girls allowed :3 [but also note: I am a woman, so I’m not being annoying or sexist, I just thought this would be silly]) “Today, for your very first lesson, you will be learning how to stay calm in the face of danger.”
Some of the boys scoffed at this. Siriussy did not feel the same kind of confidence.
“Yes, yes, scoff all you want, but today, we will be playing Russian Roulette,” Professor Grubbyplank continued, shutting everyone up. “Do not be worried, there are safety measures that I will follow to be certain no one dies, but that does not mean you should goof off. Fuck around and find out is my motto, afterall.”
That got a few laughs, but they were more nervous than anything. Grubbyplank stepped out of their summoning circle and grabbed a glock off the desk in front of the black board. He crossed the room and re-entered the group, handing the first boy the gun.
“Oh–oh you’re serious about this,” The boy, Siriussy believed him to be named Frank Shlongbottom, stammered, glancing wearily down at the glock.
“Yes, just simply point and shoot. Choose anyone,” Grubbyplank directed. “This is not only an exercise for the person on the other end of the barrel, but also for the one pulling the trigger. You Sigmas must be mentally able to shoot to kill. We hope not to use you for that, but sometimes it proves necessary for Sigma duties.”
Siriussy gulped, staring at the shiny metal object in Frank’s hands. He didn’t think he’d ever be mentally able to shoot to kill.
“Just—just anyone?” Frank swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
“Anyone,” Grubbyplank confirmed. Frank’s hand shook as he raised the gun. He aimed it at the person across the circle from him. Jame. Siriussy’s palms began to sweat. He couldn’t imagine what Frank was feeling at that moment. The only thing he knew was that he was about to find out.
Frank steadied his arm with his other and took a deep breath, pulling the trigger with the exhale. The knockback nearly toppled the large boy over, but it was only a blank. Jame was okay. The group seemed to release a collective sigh, then Jame began to laugh and soon they all were cackling. Frank had seemed so nervous to fire a blank, how in God’s name was he expected to willingly shoot a loaded gun at someone? It was ridiculous.
“Okay, now now, boys. This might seem funny, but remember, this is Russian Roulette. You cannot get too comfortable. You may very well die.” Grubbyplank plucked the glock out of Frank’s hands and passed it onto the next boy in the circle, Banjo.
Banjo weighed the gun in either hand then, aiming it quickly at Snarp, shot. The knockback completely tipped over his chair, this time, Banjo not being as sturdy as Frank. But it was all okay. Much to Siriussy’s disappointment, Snarp was completely fine, and it didn’t even appear as though he’d even flinched.
“Wonderful demonstration of strength and bravery, boys!” Grubbyplank praised them, handing the gun to Roman Rotherthighs. Roman was a pretty and strong boy, shooting the gun with ease, barely being affected by the knockback. He had aimed it at Siriussy, but Siriussy didn’t dare flinch. He just kept telling himself he’d be fine. That was the truth, afterall. Wasn’t it?
The next person Grubbyplank handed the gun was Snarp. This made Siriussy slightly nervous. What if Snarp somehow shot either Jame or Siriussy because of that weird vendetta he had against them?
No, Siriussy shook his head, that’s impossible.
So, Snarp took the gun, and after a lot of consideration, pointed it at Roman, much to Siriussy’s surprise. He pulled the trigger and immediately was knocked out of his chair, but Roman was unphased and perfectly okay.
The penultimate player in this twisted game was Jame. Siriussy wondered absentmindedly if the gun was even loaded. It probably wasn’t, this was the School of Sigmas, afterall.
Jame pointed his gun at Frank and shot, almost completely absorbing the shock from the knockback. Frank was fine and un-flinching.
So, it was time for Siriussy to shoot.
Grubbyplank laid the weapon in his extended palm. It was heavier than Siriussy would’ve guessed, but not unbearably so. Siriussy pulled his arms out, the gun as far away from his body as possible, and aimed at Banjo. As he pulled the trigger, he remembered two things: one, he was the last person, and two, no one had been shot yet.
He should’ve aimed for Snarp.
He should’ve tried to aim poorly.
But he didn’t and he was a wildly accurate shot.
Banjo was already on the ground before the gunshot even rang out through the room. Grubbyplank had said there were safety measures, but he hadn’t planned on the boys being so accurate with their shooting. There was nothing he could do about a headshot.