The beginning of the end

"Michael. Michael get the hell out off bed!" Mr Tank roared you from a deep slumber. Chris Tank was built like a steroid-crazy workout-enthusiast; a crazily muscled body, shiny bald head just above a set of dark grouchy-looking brown eyes. The man also always sported an identical looking tracksuit, either it was the same exact one or he had multiple copies.

In your bleary-eyed state you mumbled a form of acknowledgement to get him to leave. Upon him leaving your dorm room you slide out of bed, quickly getting dressed into a casual pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt and your leather boots before then going to the toilet down the corridor a little. All of the rooms were of similar style made up of: plain walls, stiff beds, a lone desk with a single lamp mounted on it and a matching chair to work at - which made it feel just a little bit more like a prison. You brush your teeth and idly run fingers through your slightly longer light-brown hair, your fringe just reaches the top of your eyes, as you let your mind wander.

After leaving, you walk down the halls for about a few minutes until eventually reaching the cafeteria. The food here was tough and majorly unloved. The staff had their own private meals brought in form elsewhere so they didn't have to put up with this, what you could hardly pass as, food. As you move towards the serving area, a chunk of food whizzes right passed your face.

"You fucking idiot, you said you could aim!" Charlie snaps as he shoves his slingshot wielding comrade out off his chair.

"I can! You just put me off." Charlie's friend, Dwayne complained as he winced from the impact of hitting the floor.

Both of them are a pair of idiots, focusing on being bigger and stronger rather than being even the slightest bit smarter. It has got them far but they certainly have their limits for what brawn can accomplish on it's own. They've been your long time 'school friends' your entire time here. Both were similar in height which was a few inches over yourself, at a decent height of a straight six foot tall.

Dwayne Glover is considered the smarter of the two, yet he remains as Charlie's lackey for everything. The guy is - you begrudgingly agree - pretty good looking too; with an overly athletic body, large muscles, chiselled jaw line, shortcut naturally golden blonde hair and glistening blue eyes. He always finds himself a new girlfriend immediately after a breakup, whether or not they're rebounds is entirely not your concern however.

Charlie Black is very much shaped the same with overbearing muscles which are barely contained within his t-shirts, unlike his friend however Charlie has light brown eyes set in a rough looking face, resulting in him looking overall intimidating and as a consequence less attractive. He keeps his dark-brown hair shaved as short as possible without ever going fully bald like Mr Tank does.

"How many times do we have to keep fighting?" You can't help but smirk. "You know I'll just kick your asses." You say calmly.

"Yeah right." Charlie scoffs. "You'll have to come over here then or are you just a scared little shit afraid to put his money where his mouth is!"

"You wish." You glare as you start to stomp over to them. Not that you're intimidating compared to them but you want a large audience watching incase you manage to bring them down. You didn't just goof off over summer after all.

You burst into a sprint a few steps away from the table they were sat at. You'd been practising so much during summer you are sure you're ready. A bit of martial arts fighting just to give yourself a small advantage in situations like this, whenever you're underestimated. Charlie stumbles as he tries to stand from his chair, Dwayne stands off to the side a little out of reach. You leap with both hands on the table and attempt to bring your feet through the middle...

Attempt...

With all the practise you had been doing you had never tried this with shoes on, let alone boots. Your feet hit into the table so you end up tripping headfirst into Charlie's stomach from across the table. You roll across due to the momentum you'd carried and stand wearily, your head feeling dizzy from the hard impact. He's got some strong abs under there.

However, strong as they might be apparently your head is sturdier as he is barrelled over on the floor, clutching his stomach. You see Dwayne step to intercept you but freezes when a whistle deafens everyone within the cafeteria. "What is happening here you snot-nosed shits?" Mr Tank yells as he marches heavily towards you and your 'attacker'.