4. Home sweet Home..
The plane landed with a soft thud, and Avalynn crashed out of her daydreaming.
“Sir, we have arrived.”
The man she had met earlier drawled from the cockpit. What was his name again?
Ray... Something?
“Thank you, Raymond.”
Her father answered. Yes, Raymond, that's right. Raymond Fletcher, the one that was going to guide them in their new home. Could she even call the military base a home? Is it a home if you share it with hundreds of men? Is it even a home if you would rather be anywhere else on the planet?
Avalynn doubted it.
As they exited the plane, Avalynn’s eyes shot from surface to surface. The area was huge, surrounded by trees, and she could see snowy mountaintops in the distance. They made their way inside, and her father disappeared immediately, probably in some meeting again.
“Let me show you your room. You will find your day-program hung on your door.”
Raymond suddenly said from behind Avalynn.
“Day-program?”
Avalynn asked, unsure if she had understood the man right.
“Yes, your day-program. Your father has signed you up to be trained by our professionals.”
Avalynn stayed silent, even though there were probably a million questions tiling around in her mind. She followed Raymond through the long corridors, trying her best to memorize the route, but she eventually lost track in the maze of grey hallways. Their walk came to an abrupt stop at a heavy metal door, with her name on a nameplate on the wall next to it.
“This is your room. You will be picked up for your first training session soon.”
And with that, Raymond disappeared into another hallway.
Avalynn opened the heavy door with a grunt and made her way inside. Somehow the room was even less than she had expected. The room was decorated with a small twin bed in one corner, the frame a cold grey metal, and by the looks of it, a very thin, uncomfortable mattress. In the other corner stood a brown leather trunk, presumably for her clothes, and when she opened the battered door on her left, she found a shower, a toilet, and a small washbasin. She closed the door of her bathroom behind her and went over to the door to look at the program she was instructed to read.
Avalynn Schmidt – Daily Program
Location: Section B – Training Wing
Assigned Officer: Sergeant Hale
Monday – Friday
07:00 – Wake-up Call & Room Inspection
07:30 – Breakfast (Cafeteria – Block A)
08:00 – Uniform Check & Basic Protocol Review
08:30 – Physical Conditioning (Track & Field)
10:00 – Combat Training – Basics (Gym 2)
12:00 – Lunch
13:00 – Strategy & Tactics – Intro (Room 14B)
14:30 – Hand-to-Hand Combat Drills
16:00 – Supervised Free Time (Rec Room)
18:00 – Dinner
She ran a finger down the page slowly, eyes catching on words like inspection, combat, and drills. Her throat tightened.
She glanced behind her at the metal bedframe, the echo of her boots still bouncing faintly off the cement walls. Every part of this place felt designed to break her down. Strip her down to nothing.
Uniform Check... Strategy Class... Hand-to-Hand Combat?
She didn’t even know how to throw a punch.
Avalynn folded the paper neatly, sliding it into the tiny drawer beside her bed. Not because she wanted to keep it, but because it was already clear—this schedule wasn't a suggestion. It was law.
Her eyes caught on the words ‘uniform check’ again. She didn’t have a uniform, right? Her gaze slid to the brown leather trunk in the corner of her room, and when she lifted the lid, a folded black uniform snagged her attention.
She lifted it from the trunk and saw brown leather boots lying beneath it. She unfolded the uniform and put it on. They must have somehow gotten her measurements, because the sleeveless, sleek black suit fit her like second skin, and the boots, although stiff, fit around her feet like they were made for her. Which they probably were. She put on the fingerless gloves she had also found in the trunk and looked in her little mirror. She didn't feel like herself anymore, but she rarely did nowadays. But instead of feeling weak and neglected, for the first time in years, she felt good.
A red blinking caught her eye. She had missed something while looking through her room the first time. Above her doorframe, a small clock was mounted to the wall, showing the time.
She heard a thunk outside of her door, and when she cracked it open, she found her small trunk on the doorstep. She took it inside and put her small pile of battered clothes inside the big trunk in the corner of her room before shutting it closed. She picked up her jewelry box and opened it, the soft tinkling of the ballerina's ballad soothing her nerves immediately. She shut it and set it atop the trunk.
She looked at her schedule again and looked at the time. It was already 17:45. She should be picked up for dinner soon. At least, she hoped she would be picked up, because there was no way she would be able to find her way in this maze.