Chapter 319
Somewhere in the Appalachian mountains of New Hampshire was a cabin in the woods for the Sterling Institute recruitment. Specially designed for maximum pain to optimize whether recruits fit within the system or not.
And the two in question who are in charge of this whole operation? Kyle and Clyde, obviously. 9 screens were arranged in front of them in a 3x3 configuration on the wall. Each screen can be switched to a different camera, leaving no place unwatched in the cabin or in the woods.
Every nanometre of this place was watched by a camera, except the washroom. That was the only place that was private because there were stupid American and Canadian laws involved that the Path had to follow, common sense apparently.
Who was the mastermind of this idea? Kyle obviously. The cabin itself looked natural, but it was anything but natural. It was supernatural. And the motherlode was in the shed beside the house.
Stop thinking so loud, idiot, Clyde thought, taking a bite of his breakfast Twinkie with a maple syrup dipping sauce at 2pm in the morning.
Have to kill time somehow, Kyle thought. And dude, you're fucking gross.
What? Clyde dipped the Twinkie in the sauce. It's good.
The fuck it is. Might as well just take tablespoonfuls of sugar, Kyle said, tapping on the power button of the main PC.
The screen displays turned on. Double clicking on the camera icon on the desktop, all 9 screens were filled with camera feeds. In total, there were 71 camera feeds available. But, only 34 could be shown at one time. That's 4 camera feeds per screen and 1 feed for the centre.
"Did the team restock the shed?" Kyle asked.
"Should have." Clyde set down his coffee and walked over to a cabinet on the side of the room. He pulled open the drawer and retrieved a clipboard with a checklist attached.
"Demon mirror," Clyde read aloud. "Check."
"Cool cool."
"Mug of a dying witch. Check."
"Love that one."
"Tableware of bruja turned banshee. Check." Clyde continued. "Cursed Victorian doll. Check. Possessed military dog tags. Check. Haunted music box. Check. Ghoul containment jar. Check. Shovel from a falling helicopter. Check."
He kept reading down the list. They were items that connected to a specific entity that had been collected by the Path from various missions around the Americas over the years. Things too dangerous to keep in normal storage, but not dangerous enough to warrant maximum containment.
In other words, the best ones to scare the little shit recruits.
"Cursed poltergeist ouija board." He looked up at Kyle. "Not restocked."
Kyle groaned and leaned back in his chair. "That was the best part though! The board always gets at least one person."
"Well, no one called in a poltergeist issue in the past 3 months so there's that."
"Damn." Kyle sighed. "Whatever. We'll make do."
Clyde tossed the clipboard back into the cabinet and returned to his seat. He picked up his coffee and took another sip. "Who are the new recruits this time?"
Kyle pulled up a file on the main computer and maximized the document on the centre screen. Six names appeared along with their photos and basic information.
"Jacob. Mia. Andrew. Jessica. Bernard. Yuri."
Clyde squinted at the screen. "Only six for our camp? That sucks."
"British Columbia has eight. Texas has twelve. New Jersey has eleven."
"Seriously? We're the smallest group?"
"Yeah, but those guys have a shitty pass rate." Kyle scrolled through some additional data. Those idiots at other facilities all talked about this heavenly thing called 'safety'.
Well, fuck safety. That's why their recruits were always garbage tier.
"Exactly," Clyde said, then he leaned forward to look at the photos of each recruit. "What are the contestants' innates like?"
Kyle clicked on the first profile. "Jacob. Healing properties. Touch-based regeneration that works on himself and others. Useful for keeping the group alive."
"Support type. Next."
"Mia. Mental psychic wave attacks. Short range, but potent. Can disorient and cause temporary paralysis."
"Offensive support type. Good."
"Andrew. Tracker skills. Can sense signatures up to a kilometre away and leave markers that only he can see."
Clyde whistled. "Very useful. That's a rare one."
No shit that was a rare one. Everyone and their mom's factions were trying to get trackers for ages. This kid has to be the first one that's popped up in over 4 months.
Kyle moved to the next profile. "Jessica. Charm skill that somehow works on animals. Not sure how effective that'll be in the cabin though."
"Depends on what animals are around."
"Bernard. Forcefield generation. Highest stage at Mid-Awakened. Can create barriers up to three metres in diameter. Duration and strength depend on how much ether he puts in."
"Vanguard, okay okay. That's something."
"And finally, Yuri. Can enchant items with blue flames. Temporary enhancement that lasts about ten minutes per item."
"Typical flanker." Clyde finished his maple syrup soaked Twinkie. "This batch is going to suck. There's only two combat types. Bernard and Yuri."
"Three if you count Mia's support offensively."
"What's that gonna do? Give zombies headaches? Fuckin' hell."
Kyle shrugged. "We'll see how they do."
He pulled out his phone and opened his messages.
[Kyle: Yo Lily. You watching the Sterling Recruitment live?]
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
[Lily: Yeah, I'm watching. Got the stream up on my laptop.]
[Kyle: Bet. Which entity you think the group releases first?]
[Lily: Probably the ghouls. New recruits always poke around the basement first.]
Kyle turned to Clyde. "Lily bets that ghouls go first."
Clyde snorted. "That's stupid. These idiots will always touch the mirror first. Shiny and completely creepy. Who doesn't love a creepy old mirror?"
"What's your bet?"
"Ten 2060 vintage Twinkies on the demon mirror."
Kyle typed.
[Kyle: Clyde bets 10 shitty vintage Twinkies on the mirror demon going first.]
[Kyle: I'm going for the possessed helicopter on the military tags.]
[Lily: The helicopter? According to the stats, that's only ever happened once in 10 years.]
Clyde read the message over Kyle's shoulder. "She's right. The helicopter incident was a fluke. That recruit had a military background and specifically sought out the tags. What's your bet anyway?"
"A box of triple chocolate protein shake. Twelve bottles."
"You're going to lose those shakes."
"We'll see."
[Lily: My bet is free dinner at a restaurant of the winner's choice.]
Kyle showed Clyde the message.
Clyde shook his head slowly. "Poor Lily. The ghouls are never first. They're in a jar on a shelf way in the back of the basement. You have to actively search for them."
"It's always the scientific type that goes for the shovel though," Kyle said. "The one who wants to dig around and investigate everything. Happened at least twice."
"No shit though?"
"No shit, bro. The shovel is cursed and shoves whoever touches it towards the jar. Next thing they know, they're right in front of the fucker."
"Okay, that's actually clever placement."
"Jonathan's idea."
"Of course it was."
*
The yellow school bus rattled down the gravelly dirt road surrounded by trees on all sides. Sterling Recruitment was apparently sponsored by the Path. For a major faction, a rickety old short yellow bus was the least thing Mia expected.
Shifting in her seat for who knows how many times, her butt had gone sore from the ride. The bus had come straight from the airport with very little rest stops. They had only stopped at a single gas station for a bathroom break which lasted exactly 5 minutes before the driver blared his horn non stop at them.
Two and a half hours non stop of riding. That wouldn't be too long of a ride if it wasn't for the fact the seats were the most uncomfortable thing she'd been on.
"Holy shit, my ass is killing me," Mia said.
"We're almost there though, according to the GPS," Jacob watched his phone. Gmaps was open on it.
Mia stood up from where she sat and looked through the windshield of the bus. A clearing gradually showed itself as the bus moved, arriving at a cabin in the woods.
Skidding to a stop, the bus was just a metre away from the wall of the cabin. Any more and it would have either tapped the wall or destroyed it. The driver opened the door and stared at the group, waiting for them to leave.
Customer service was definitely at the top priority of the Path.
Mia stood up and stretched, reaching towards the overhead compartment and pulled down her duffel bag. Her back had popped at three different places, and somehow her butt too.
Jacob grabbed his backpack while Andrew, behind them, retrieved his own duffel bag.
The three other people on the bus did the same. Two women and one man with whom Mia had only exchanged brief nods during the bus ride.
All of them filed off the bus one by one. As soon as the last person stepped onto the dirt, the bus reversed itself before the driver even closed the door.
"Friendly guy," Jacob said, watching the bus disappear down the road. "No unsolicited conversations, I guess."
The six of them stood in a loose circle, luggage at their feet, looking at each other.
"So," the man said. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a military-style buzz cut. He even wore a muted green shirt with camo pants like he was going to war. "We should probably introduce ourselves. We have to work together during this recruitment phase."
"Agreed," one of the women said. She had black hair that went down to her shoulders, straight, and had a fringe. "I'm Yuri. My innate lets me enchant items with blue flames. Temporary enhancement, lasts about ten minutes per item, but also melts the item if it's not heat resistant."
The other woman stepped forward. She was shorter, with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a long black skirt, a white shirt, and a denim jacket over it. "Jessica. I have a charm skill that works on animals. I can probably do humans too, but I haven't tried."
The tall man went next. "Bernard. Forcefield generation. I can create barriers up to three metres wide. Anything magical or physical won't pass through, but it burns a lot of ether."
Mia spoke up first, mostly because the two lovable idiots beside her were too shy. "Mia. Mental psychic wave attacks. Short range, but it can disorient and cause temporary paralysis."
"Jacob." He gave a small wave. "Healing. Touch-based regeneration. Works on myself and others as long as there's touch."
"Andrew. Tracker skills. I can sense signatures up to a kilometre away and leave markers that only I can see."
Bernard nodded. "Not bad. We've got some variety. But listen up. The proctors of this test are sadistic assholes. I've heard stories from people who went through previous years. They don't just test your abilities. They try to break you in the most disgusting ways unimaginable. Think of them as the worst people you've ever met, turned up to 11, and leave room for more. They will fuck with you because they salivate on the misery of others, especially young recruits like us."
Jacob shivered at the description. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"Look, Jacob. That's your name, right?" Bernard asked but didn't bother stopping his sentence. "We've gotten the worst spot for this test, the Appalachian mountains. There's 2 proctors, and they conduct this test with at least 1 death every year. One of us is at least going to die in this shithole. And if we don't, at least one of us is going to get fucked in the mind, physically and mentally."
Mia's eyebrow raised at the comment. Surely, the Path would have some safety precautions for recruits. What would happen to the families of the recruits if they died? That'd be a total logistical and legal nightmare.
Shrugging it off mentally, she followed the group towards the cabin. Bernard pushed open the front door, and what was shown was at least decent compared to that bus.
Inside was homely and cozy. A large living room with a comfortable-looking sofa arranged around a stone fireplace. A kitchen was visible through a wooden archway to the left. A hallway led to what Mia assumed were the bedrooms on the right.
And mounted above the fireplace, a big deer head with huge antlers stared down at them with glass eyes. But the glass eyes seemed to be bigger than what she usually saw in the encyclopaedias.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Jacob said.
Andrew turned to him. "You getting scared now? After that 3 hour drive?"
"It just feels like... deja vu or something." Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. "Like I've seen this exact setup in a movie before. And it never ends well."
Yuri walked past them. "Focus. Worry about feelings later when we're in actual danger."
She and Jessica moved down the hallway, checking the rooms. A moment later, Yuri's voice called back.
"Three bedrooms. 1 queen bed each."
Jessica appeared in the hallway entrance. "So how's the sleeping situation going to work? There's six of us and 3 beds"
"I'll take the living room sofa. I don't mind," Andrew said.
"No." Bernard said sternly. "We're marked and ranked based on whether everyone survives, and how everyone survives. The living room is the most exposed area of the cabin. If anything happens, whoever's sleeping here gets hit first."
"So what?" Mia asked.
"I'll take the sofa. My role is vanguard. I'm built for taking the first hit." Bernard set his bag down beside one of the couches.
Yuri shrugged. "My role is flank. Not staying in the living room."
"I'm support," Jessica said. "I should probably be near the back... I think."
Bernard turned to look at Andrew, Mia, and Jacob. "What about you three? What are your roles?"
Andrew, Mia, and Jacob exchanged glances.
"We don't have roles," Andrew forced a smile. "We're new to all of this. We only awakened a few months ago."
"You're telling me half our team has no combat experience? No role assignments? No training?" Bernard asked impatiently.
"We've been in fights," Mia said. Running away from Witch Nyx probably counted. And they did survive. But not exactly a defence... still counts though.
"And you're still telling me you don't know your fucking roles?" Bernard's voice rose.
"Hey." Yuri stepped between them. "Your feelings don't matter. Survive first. Feel later."
Bernard glared at her for a moment, then looked away. "Fine."
Mia sighed. What was he going to do? Kick them out? There was no way. They'd also lose a lot of points for infighting anyways. Her only complaint was that Neutral Grounds reps never prepared them for anything. Or maybe that was her fault for wanting to finish the winter semester at Yorkdale.
"If survival is the priority," Mia spoke up, "why doesn't everyone just sleep in the living room? We stay together, we watch each other's backs."
"I don't wanna sleep on the floor," Jessica groaned.
"This isn't the time to be comfortable," Mia said. "If something attacks us in the middle of the night, being spread across three different rooms is the worst possible setup."
"Mia's right. Splitting up never works," Jacob said.
"Agreed on that one," Andrew said.
"Mia might be right. If we're prioritizing survival, clustering near the vanguard makes the most tactical sense," Yuri said.
"Jacob can also somewhat tank," Andrew said. "He has self-healing. If something gets past Bernard's forcefield, Jacob can take a hit and recover. Best to just wait out the storm in the living room. It can't be that bad."
Jacob winced. "I mean... technically, yes. But I still don't like getting hurt."
Yuri fixed him with a hard stare. "Suck it up. That's part of being an Aurian."