Page 112 of His Hell Girl

And so I continue to do a combination of jumps, high somersaults and hand walking on the rope, twisting around to avoid the snakes, sometimes using my feet to kick them.

Just as I am closer to the other end, I hear a hiss nearing and I realize it's coming from behind me.

From the proximity of the sound, I realize I have no time to duck. So I just turn around, my arm stretched out as my handcatches the head of the viper mid-air, my fingers squeezing its jaw shut so it's unable to bite.

Before I get rid of it, though, I force its sharp teeth into a patch of material from my clothes, pressing forward until the venom starts seeping from its glands. Gathering it tightly, I secure it in a makeshift pouch.

Flinging the viper away from me, I jump on to the firm surface of the other side.

Not wasting another breath, I quickly hurry to the next trial.

A small chamber with a floating target, I pick up a small set of knives. The instructions are pretty simple. The target is touch sensitive, and every time I hit the center, I earn ten points. Ten throws and that's it.

Coincidentally, this is one of my favorite tests, since my aim is pretty darn perfect, if I do say so myself.

Glibly grabbing the knives, I let my eyes follow the target around for a bit, trying to learn its patterns. Since I'm convinced that a computer is controlling the movements, I know there must be a hidden pattern that will allow me to guess the next position.

Surely enough, a few seconds and I note a slight undulation, the target doing two ups before going once down. Then it goes twice down before going once up. The rhythm is repeated, but instead of a straight line, the target is moving in circular motions. Still, the pattern is clear.

I close my eyes, relying on my hearing as I count the positions.

Aim.

The knife embeds itself right in the middle, a loud noise denoting the added points next to my name on the screen.

A smug expression on my face, I just continue to anticipate each position, throwing knives right and left.

In no time, I've accumulated the highest number of points possible, finishing the trial.

Next are a few similar ones involving a combination of weapons and explosives. The first one is still testing our aim, but also our reflexes as we assemble a weapon from zero in order to shoot it at different targets. The second one is a bit trickier, as it asks us to detangle the wires from a complex C4 explosive.

The amount of C4 isn't too much, but it's enough to blast the one person who is messing with the wires. And so it is a life and death situation.

Luckily, I've been paying attention to all the lessons, and I've memorized every single piece of information.

It's gotten to a point where I don't know if my memory is mine or if it's been thrust upon me in one of Miles's crazy experiments.

All I know is that I only need to see something once in order to remember it forever, I’m able to dissect it at atom levels long after I'd seen it.

And so I pass the explosives test too.

Halfway through.

I know enough about Miles' wicked mind to only expect the worst. After all, this is a test to separate the weak from the strong. The ones who will proceed forward and the ones who will not.

Dead.

In the back of my mind, I feel a little pulsation as I think about my sister, the first semblance of feeling in a long time. At least I'd managed to spare her by being Miles' exclusive guinea pig. She's been worsening from all the experiments he'd subjugated her to, and her body is slowly failing her.

I know it. Miles knows it. Everybody knows it. Still, if I can keep her alive, I will.

I'll do anything to ensure her safety.

I barely see her nowadays, though. Miles has me either in training or in testing every single day. The most I manage is to say a few words to her before I go to sleep. Even with my new physical enhancements I'm having some trouble keeping up with some aspects of Miles' program.

The psychological tests have been the hardest, because I could tell that slowly, without even realizing, they were changing me from the inside out.

From the very beginning I've been forced to sit in a dark room with only one screen, nonstop watching atrocity after atrocity until I've become desensitized to everything.

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