I woke up with a start, only to see that my entire body was sweating... with fear.

I had unfortunately had yet another nightmare, but this time, it wasn't about Barry or any of the killers; it was about the terrified face of the assaulted guard I had seen on the screen last night. 

Man, I just couldn't get him out of my head. The poor guy had probably died instantly, thanks to the bullet penetrated in his forehead by one of the killers. But after all, this was what these criminals did. I just couldn't bare the thought of someone like me ending up doing exactly the same thing.

With a shiver, I got up out of bed and looked at the time on the clock set on the table. Gosh, it was quarter to seven! So I then had a quick hot shower and put on a fresh set of clothes (left on my bed by who-knows-who, maybe Barry). They were slightly big for me, but it would have to do.

I then made my bed and left my room, heading towards the gym.

***

"Glad you could make it" said Barry with a strange smile "Today you will be learning the basic moves of karate."

"Wow. Really?"

"No, I was just joking. YES, YOU WILL BE LEARNING KARATE!" 

"Oh, sorry" I said stupidly.

"Zack, this is professor Wong Lee. He is Japanese. Professor, this is Zack."

"Mmm...Nice to meet you" I managed to say, extending my hand.

But the man just looked at me, almost with a look of disgust on his face. His face was quite wrinkly and his eyes were dark. Even though he was pretty elderly, he looked like the guy that could knock my head off at any moment. In fact, he probably could.

"Well this is awkward" I muttered to Barry, but at the same time trying hard to keep my polite smile.

"He, ehh, doesn't really shake hands with anybody" said Barry uncomfortably.

So then, as casually as possible, I retreived my hand and tried to slide it into my pocket.

That's when I realized that I had no pockets in my clothes. Fantastic.

"Okay Wong Pee-" I started again.

"Wong Lee!" interrupted Barry.

"Wong Lee, Wong Lee" I corrected myself nervously - I really was going to end up without a head at the end of the day "What are we starting with?"

The man's expression changed, but now to a puzzled and confused look.

"He doesn't speak English" explained Barry "But I'll translate"

I sighed frustatedly; It was going to be a long day.

***

And so my training started.

Everyday I would get up around half six and start the day with a short training session. Then, at eight I would have breakfast. Well, if a couple of croissants and a glass of water counted at all, brought to me by Barry from the shop nearby. Obviously, I wasn't allowed to go anywhere near the exit of the base, but I didn't even know where it was, so it would have been impossible to escape anyway.

After breakfast, I would have another long training session, and a free hour before lunch, at half one. The afternoons would probably be my favourite time of day, because there was no training session, and I could practically do whatever I wanted, apart from going to a few restricted areas like the control room. I even would spend hours just on my bed, resting.

I will not forget to say that my friendship with Barry gradually grew. We would spend more and more time together, either to talk or work out, and strangely, every time I would feel less uncomfortable around him, until the point that we were practically best friends. 

And to think that less than a month ago he had tried to kill me.

Days turned into a week. Weeks turned into a month. As my time at the base grew, I became more and more used to my new life. Unfortunately, there only two things that bothered me:

1. My mother. She was definitely worried sick about me, because I completely disappeared. In fact, she had probably phoned the police by now, and everyone was out on the street looking for me. But no, I wasn't out on the street, I was underground, living with a group of criminals. At the start, every night I would lie awake thinking about her, but bit by bit, it happened less and less frequently.

2. Barry's constant reluctancy to talk about his past. I don't even know why it intrigued me so much, but maybe it was because he was close to my age. Every time I would try to talk to him about it (usually in my free afternoons) he would just avoid the conversation or prettend he had to do something else.

But there was one time when I got close.

"Barry" I said "I know you really don't like being asked this, but how did you become a killer?"

He sighed befor answering.

"Zack, why are you so keen to know that? Do you think that the answer will make you feel better about your own life? You really won't stop until you get the truth, will you?"

"Was it that bad?" I asked slowly.

There was now a sad, distant look in his eyes, as if is mind was set elsewhere.

"I can tell you this: Whatever story you're hoping for, I can assure you  that it's not a good one."

But then, out of the blue one of the other killers walked in.

"They're calling for you, Barry." he said.

Barry then snapped back to life, as if moments ago he had been in a dream. And with that, he got up and left.

It was so frustrating, because I could have sworn that Barry was about to tell me everything, before the other man walked in. Well, whatever happened, I was going to get it out of him somehow. I just knew it.