VI

 It is three weeks before my tenth birthday. For the past 

 three years I have been training as a member of Ouroborus. My day goes as such: wake up at 4:45 am. I am expected to be showered, dressed, have my bed made and be in the dining hall by 5:30am for breakfast. Not a second past. Failure to do so results in being "punished" and breakfast is forfeited immediately. Classes start at 6am sharp.

The first class of the day is basically military calisthenics until 8am. From 8am until high noon when lunch is served is your basic classes taught at your average grade school from math to science as well as several advanced classes such as chemistry. Lunch lasted exactly thirty minutes and then it's off to the next set of classes. Or as I liked to call them Bad Guy 101. These where classes taught to me to be a successful member of Ouroborus:

 MMA, Sabotage, Espionage, Assassination, Stealth, Heists, Parkour, Gymnastics, Olympics, Snowboarding, Skiing, Rock climbing, Hacking and Computer Science. The Ways of the Shadows 101, Mechanics 101, Aviation 101, Hunting 101, and a lot of other 101s. These secretly became my favorite classes. By the time I finally turned ten, I was a highly educated child assassin. I knew how to field dress and attend over one thousand wounds from being stabbed to a gunshot and evening needing to amputate one or more limbs on myself or others.

 I could survive in the most unforgiving environments. I 

 was a full fledge master mechanic, pilot and sailor. I could drive and operate any kind of vehicle whether it was on land, in air, or by water. I could outperform and maneuver the best Olympians the world had to offer in any field. I could infiltrate an entire country and bring it to its knees in terror, rearrange who was in power, or completely obliterate it from existence.

I could walk into the most heavily guarded place and rob them blind leaving no trace that I had ever been there in the first place. And I was better at it than anyone else in the history of Ouroborus and not even field tested yet. I was also the first member to master every known language to man.

 At least that's how the rumors put it. There was even a rumor going around that I was better than my Uncle Jim. And I paid the price for these rumors. The other men being trained here never did anything but my prideful Uncle Jim made my life a living hell for those rumors. At the end of a very long day, dear ol Uncle Jim would find a section of Castle Smrt's vast floor for me to scrub with a toothbrush for three hours. "If you're the best at everything that you do then this should be a cakewalk for you" was always his smirked comment.

 The biggest news came the day of my tenth birthday. For the next three years everyone and everything at Castle Smrt would be trying to kill me including and especially my dear loving Godfather. Yay me.