Raven Skitchatory
October 19, 2025
09:45 EST
Langley AFB Training Grounds
Langley, VA
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“AT EASE!” Ray’s voice boomed through the armory as I was hunched over, untying my boots. I jolted upright so fast I almost gave myself whiplash, locking my hands behind my back, eyes forward. Sergeant First Class Helsing had stepped in.
“Carry on,” the Sergeant ordered, her eyes flicking toward me. “Skitchatory!”
“Yes, Sergeant!” I snapped.
“Tie your boot and come with me,” she commanded.
“Roger, Sergeant,” I replied, exchanging a confused glance with Ray. He just shrugged. I quickly retied my boot and jogged after Sergeant Helsing as she exited the armory.
She didn’t say a word as I followed her into her office. She sat down behind her desk, gesturing for me to take position in front of it. I snapped into parade rest, gaze fixed straight ahead, waiting.
“Relax, Skitchatory. You’re not in trouble,” she said, her tone softening slightly.
I shifted into ‘at ease’ but kept my eyes focused on a spot on the wall behind her. Something told me I wasn’t here for a social chat.
“Who taught you to fight like that?” she asked, a curious edge to her voice.
“No one, Sergeant,” I said simply.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Then where the hell did you get the idea to go airborne?” she asked bluntly.
“Sergeant, it was a team decision,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “We figured the drones wouldn’t expect an aerial attack from ground forces. We used that advantage to catch them off guard. Our snipers provided long-range cover while the rest of us handled short-range engagements.”
Sergeant Helsing leaned back in her chair, a slow grin spreading across her face, like a predator who’d just spotted its next meal.
“Well, Skitchatory,” she said, her voice thick with approval. “That was one hell of a performance. Now that I know what you and your team are capable of, I expect nothing less going forward. Don’t let me down.”
“Roger, Sergeant. Our goal is to be the best,” I replied, my voice steady.
“Good. Now get back to your team. You’ve got a long day ahead of you,” she said, her grin fading into a more businesslike expression.
With a sharp turn on my heel, I marched out of her office and headed back to the armory. When I stepped in, the guys were already waiting.
“What was that about?” Case asked, still cradling his sniper rifle like it was an extension of his arm.
“Sergeant Helsing said we did a hell of a job,” I replied.
“Of course we did,” Logan chimed in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He was practically a mirror image of Case, right down to the blonde hair, though a few inches shorter. “No surprise there.”
“Shut it, Logan,” Ray growled. “Before I shut it for you.”
Logan’s grin widened. “Why don’t you try, Ray?”
“Logan, knock it off before I let Ray make good on that threat,” Charles, our quiet redhead sniper, chimed in, not even looking up as he cleaned his rifle.
Logan’s mouth opened, ready for another snarky retort, but I shut him down with a single, well-placed glare.
“Unless you want another ass-kicking like the one I gave you last week, zip it,” I growled.
The armory erupted into chuckles and smirks.
“Looks like Dark Raven has spoken,” Case joked, a gleam in his eye.
I almost shot him a glare too, but something about the nickname stuck. Dark Raven... I liked the sound of that. Instead of snapping at him, I flashed them all a wicked grin.
“Did she just smile at that?” Case whispered to Logan.
“Sure did,” Logan whispered back, both of them grinning like idiots.
“Hey, Skitchatory,” Logan called out. “How about Team Dark Raven? Captain said we could pick a team name, right?”
I glanced at Logan, then at Ray. His expression was unreadable, but after a beat, he shrugged. “Why not?”
I sighed, pretending to be reluctant, but deep down I liked it. “Alright, Team Dark Raven it is. Now, who can draw? We need a patch.”
Charles raised his hand, and I nodded in approval. The guys exchanged grins, and in unison, they let out a cheer.
It wasn’t long before Bravo Team came straggling into the armory, heads hanging low and uniforms marked with the telltale signs of taser hits.
“What happened?” I asked, barely hiding my curiosity.
“Shut your mouth, you bitch,” one of their teammates growled at me.
Before I could react, Ray’s fist collided with the guy’s face, sending him crashing into the lockers with a loud clang. The guy barely managed to stagger up before charging at Ray, but just as he got close, Case’s boot met his face, and he hit the lockers again, harder this time. He stayed down. The rest of Bravo Team just stood there, staring, dumbfounded.
“So,” I said again, my voice cold and sharp, “what happened?”
One of the other guys, looking far less cocky now, finally spoke up. “We went for a full-frontal raid. We even used tactics from basic training, but... none of it worked.”
Logan snorted, turning back to his locker. The guy shot him a disgusted look and flipped him off for good measure.
“Put it away, or I’ll break it off myself,” I growled.
The guy’s eyes widened, and he quickly backpedaled, muttering a quick, “Sorry,” just as Sergeant Helsing entered the armory.
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“Who was the team leader for Bravo Team?” she barked, her eyes scanning the room.
Without hesitation, everyone pointed to the guy still slumped against the lockers, looking dazed. She raised an eyebrow, then turned her gaze to me.
“Should I ask?” she inquired, one side of her mouth quirking up slightly.
“He tripped,” Ray answered, snapping to parade rest, his tone deadpan.
“Uh-huh. Interesting way to trip. That boot print speaks volumes,” she replied, a quick grin flickering in my direction before turning back to the fallen Bravo Team leader.
Sergeant Helsing's attention shifted to one of the others. “You. With me.”
The guy scrambled after her as she walked out of the armory, barking over her shoulder, “Alpha Team, you’re free for the day. Training’s canceled.”
She paused just at the doorway. “Oh, and Skitchatory... ‘Dark Raven’ suits you,” she said, her voice low and knowing.
As soon as she left, the room went silent. Then, my entire team turned to look at me, grinning like idiots. I could feel my face flush, and I quickly busied myself at my locker, fidgeting with my gear to avoid their stares.
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We had just gotten back from breakfast, and I was sitting at my desk, flipping through the field manual Sergeant Helsing had given me. The topic of conversation over breakfast had been the training exercise, and Bravo Team’s complete absence from the mess hall hadn’t gone unnoticed. Maybe they were off doing extra training, or maybe licking their wounds.
I leaned back in my chair, taking a moment to relax, when there was a knock at my door.
Standing up, I opened it, fully expecting Ray or one of the guys from my team. What I didn’t expect was Sergeant Helsing. I quickly snapped to parade rest.
“Yes, Sergeant?” I said, my tone sharp.
“Relax, Skitchatory,” she replied, her tone lighter than usual.
I shifted into an at-ease stance, but stayed alert.
“Mind if I come in?” she asked.
“Of course, Sergeant,” I replied, stepping aside.
Just as I was about to call out “At ease,” she shot me a glare that froze the words in my throat.
“Don’t you dare say it,” she growled.
I quickly shut my mouth.
“Got any plans today, Skitchatory?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she already knew the answer.
“No, Sergeant,” I replied, fighting the disappointment that threatened to creep into my voice.
“Good. You and I are headed out to the training site. We’ve got some training to do.”
My heart sank a little. I had hoped to hang out with Ray since training had been canceled. But I wasn’t about to argue.
“Put on some civvies you don’t mind getting dirty,” she ordered.
“Roger that, Sergeant,” I said, a bit confused.
“I’ll be waiting in the parking lot by my truck,” she said before turning on her heel and heading out.
I grabbed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, quickly pulling them on. Since we were heading to the training grounds, I opted for my combat boots. Grabbing my wallet and sliding my dark Oakley sunglasses on, I was about to head out when my phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, I saw it was Ray.
“Hey, what’s up?” I answered.
“Sergeant says to hurry your ass up,” Ray said, and I could hear the grin in his voice.
I cracked a smile. “I’m already on my way out the door,” I replied, glad that Ray would be coming along.
I ran down the flight of stairs and out to the parking lot, where I found Ray and Sergeant Helsing waiting next to her 2016 Dodge Ram 1500. The truck was all black with sleek red pinstriping—a beast on wheels. Ray opened the passenger door for me with a small grin, and I slid in. Sergeant Helsing watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow before getting in herself, while Ray took the backseat. Once inside, she started the engine, and it roared to life with a deep rumble that made my chest vibrate. Buckling in, I barely had time to brace before Helsing floored it, the tires screeching as we sped off.
The drive to the training site was fast and furious, Helsing weaving through base traffic like a pro. I loved every second of it, the rush of adrenaline making my pulse race. Ray, on the other hand, had a death grip on the "Oh Shit" handle in the backseat, looking like he was ready to meet his maker.
We pulled up to the site within minutes. Helsing parked with a hard jerk of the brakes, and Ray all but leapt out of the truck, giving a quick side-eye to the Sergeant. I stifled a laugh as we followed her to the entrance gate, where Captain Edwards was already waiting.
“Afternoon, you two,” he greeted us in his usual calm tone. “Follow me.”
Sergeant Helsing gave him a sharp salute before falling into step beside him. Ray and I followed a step behind as they led us into the armory. Captain Edwards punched in a code on a door at the far end of the room, and gestured for us to follow him through.
Inside, the room was brightly lit with fluorescent lights that cast harsh shadows across the walls, which were lined with tools and various weapons. Benches ran along the walls, cluttered with gear, except for one. On that bench sat two objects, laid out with almost reverential care.
The Captain moved to the bench and picked up one of the objects—a long, worn-looking staff about four feet in length, covered with hieroglyphs I didn’t recognize. There were spear-like blades on either end. He handed it to Ray without a word.
Ray studied the staff, his eyes narrowing as his thumb brushed a small, flush button on the handle. He glanced at the Captain for permission to try it out.
"Go ahead," Captain Edwards said with a nod.
Sergeant Helsing and I instinctively stepped back as Ray pressed the button. The staff extended to six feet, the spearheads expanding into broad, wicked axe blades. Ray’s face lit up with pure fascination as he examined the weapon, twirling it lightly in his hand.
“Press and hold the button,” the Captain instructed.
Ray did, watching as the staff collapsed back into a foot-long form, the blades folding neatly into the shaft. The awe on his face was priceless.
“Skitchatory, come here,” the Captain ordered, motioning for me to step forward.
I approached the bench as the Captain handed me the second object—a long-barreled semi-automatic pistol. I instantly recognized it as a .50 caliber. Just the feel of it told me this thing would kick like a mule. I handed it over to Sergeant Helsing, who quickly tapped a combination on the pistol grip.
To my utter shock, the pistol shifted, transforming into a long-barreled rifle. She then keyed in another sequence, and the weapon morphed again, this time into a compact sub-rifle. I stared at the gun in disbelief.
“How… How did it do that?” I finally stammered, unable to wrap my head around it.
“The best way to explain it is… well, let’s just call it magic,” a deep voice suddenly said from behind us.
I spun around, nearly jumping out of my skin to find the Colonel standing right behind me, his arms crossed, looking far too amused at my reaction.
"Calm down, Huntress. There's no need to be afraid," the Colonel said smoothly.
"Magic?" I repeated, still processing everything.
"The weapons you’re holding," the Colonel explained, "were designed by the Nacht Society. They specialize in hunting the... unnatural."
“Unnatural?” I asked, still not entirely sure I understood.
“Yes,” the Colonel continued. “Beings that go bump in the night. And Sergeant Helsing here? Her family is known for being some of the best hunters of these creatures.”
I turned to Sergeant Helsing, standing rigid beside me. Her face was set in a hard glare, eyes locked on the Colonel with enough venom to melt steel. Whatever he was saying, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.
“Ah, didn’t anyone tell you, Sergeant Helsing?” The Colonel's voice dripped with condescension, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “You and your team were chosen specifically to go after the S.A.F. Autumn because they’re harboring hybrid beings. You see, young Skitchatory,” he added, shifting his gaze to me, “Sergeant Helsing here was the first in her family to break from the tradition of being a Huntress. But what she hasn’t realized,” he said, leaning in slightly, his grin widening, “is that she’s been following her family’s legacy all along.”
The weight of his words hit like a hammer. Helsing’s entire body went stiff, though the rage pouring off her was palpable, an invisible heat radiating in waves. Her jaw clenched so hard I thought her teeth might crack. Captain Edwards, who had been standing nearby, looked as if he were about to be sick, clearly just as blindsided by this revelation as we were.
The Colonel didn’t stop. His voice took on a sinister edge, reveling in the discomfort he was causing. “Thanks to your performance this morning, Skitchatory,” he continued, his eyes darting between me and Helsing, “Sergeant Helsing has now made a decision that plays right into the hands of the Nacht Society. The same Society her family has been bound to for generations.”
The room hung in silence, the air thick with tension so heavy it was hard to breathe. No one dared speak. Even Ray, usually quick with a quip or retort, remained frozen, watching the scene unfold like a bomb waiting to go off.
Sergeant Helsing’s expression barely shifted, but I could see the storm brewing behind her eyes. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, her voice was ice. “That explains the teeth,” she said, her words sharp, cold, and dripping with disdain.
The Colonel’s grin never wavered. “Yep,” he said with infuriating smugness.
Without another word, Helsing turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her boots clicking against the floor in a harsh rhythm. “Come on, you two. We have training to do,” she barked over her shoulder, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I looked at Ray, who was still staring wide-eyed at the Colonel. We exchanged a glance, the same thought running through both of our minds: What the hell just happened?
Reluctantly, I followed Sergeant Helsing out of the armory and onto the training field. Whatever the Colonel had unleashed, one thing was clear—it was going to be a very long day.