WALKING DEAD: Damian's Revenge

r just because it was a dream come true, a young man about his age wearing a white round-necked short-sleeved T-shirt, whose impenetrable countenance gave little chan

you are?" The young man corked to the left, then a weird grin formed around his lips as he took a step forward and looked deeply into Damian's eyes. "Listen to me, pipsqueak," he insulted, "I was asked to come help you carry your stuff, oh wait, I mean to fetch you and show you which way leads to the dormitory, but let's get one thing straight here, if you mistake me for a babysitter, you will choke on your own blood. Got it? "Now follow me." He turned around and started to walk ahead of Damian. As much as he w

t up, do as you're told, and remember, the most important rule here is to obey before complaining. But if you can't, your bags are here, the bus station is just a km away, go home and live a peaceful life, or else, do what you're told, understood?" "Sir, yes, sir." Damian responded without a blink or even a smile to show friendliness, but with a hardened countenance, and the instructor excused the two gentlemen. "So lemme guess," Damian started again, after they had gained a considerable distance from the instructor, "he is the instructor, right?" The young man said no words but nodded his "yes." His reaction should have been enough to tell Damian that he was not interested in talking after what just happened, but Damian knew not when to stop asking, "Is he always this tough?" He went on to ask, "Look, if you don't know how to shut up, I'm going to teach you by disassembling in your teeth. You just got here, and look what you have done. Your first thing to do is to get me in trouble. How dare you?" Yo, chillax, bro, what's with this attitude? "I didn't do it on purpose; I didn't know he was the instructor." "Yeah right! You didn't, but your big mouth couldn't wait to express itself, could it? If you had learned to shut up, you would not have gotten us into trouble. What do you even think we do here? Joke? Gallivant?" The young man replied, really irritated this time. "Okay, dude, you don't get to talk to me anyhow, okay?" I told you I was sorry; I didn't know he was the instructor; why do you have to be so tough? "Oh let me guess, you are imitating the instructor, aren't you?" Damian teased, "He's the only tough guy around here, ain't he?" "Shut up!" The fuming young man replied, "You don't know me." "I don't have to know you." Damian

ed motionless even after sprinkling so much water on him, an idea someone in the crowd came up with. They were later informed by the infirmary that the boy didn't have much water in his system. Anyways, Damian, though tired and overly panting, hastily attended to his aide and picked him up. "Help!" he screamed to his fellow comrades, "he's dying." Not even a giggle or a look of concern escaped a single soul's face; anybody aside from the instructor was allowed to fidget; the latter would punish anyone who fidgets. "I remember s

e forming around the corners of the instructor's lips. "Did you hear him?" The instructor asked his audience, "He just got here, and he is pronouncing himself "future officer." I would say he didn't deserve it the first time I saw a young man, but this—" The instructor pointed to Damian's companion lying on the floor, saying, "This is what it takes to be called a policeman; you should learn to sacrifice yourself for the citizens of this