Chapter Text
You joined the army 7 weeks prior, it’s not exactly where you’d imagined yourself a few months ago but your parents thought it’d be a good idea since you didn’t have a clue about what you wanted to do after college. Luckily you ended up with a nice enough sergeant, Sergeant Wesker, well he wasn’t exactly the nicest but definitely nicer than Major Krauser, oh the horror stories you’d heard about him from the older recruiters. He was rough, aggressive, mean and a bit of a bully to be honest. You once saw one of your recruits come back from a talk with the Major and boy did he look miserable, he barely even ate for the following week. There was even a saying that went around the base; ‘Your Sergeant can make your day miserable but the Major can make your whole month miserable.’
After a rough morning of intense training you were relieved to finally sit down and have lunch with your buddies. The mess hall was loud with the sound of conversations, laughter, and cutlery. Your moment of peace was soon interrupted by your sergeant entering the mess hall. The energy shifted, everyone could sense his arrival.
“Second Platoon,” Fuck. That’s your platoon. ”Enjoy your lunch, Major will be watching you today, I suggest you remember that.” He said with a barely noticeable sadistic smirk, he relishes in our pain.
Everything stopped, cutlery could be heard hitting plates, murmuring spread all throughout the halls as the sergeant left, as well as a couple of “Oohhh’s”.
You shared glances with your fellow recruits, some had a scared look on their face, some concerned, some confident and then there was you. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. You had been slacking off during recent sessions, especially during field exercise and range practice. If you didn’t get your shit together this lesson, it’d be a straight trip to the Majors office where he’d eat you up.
Deep breaths, deep breaths, was all you could think as you made your way to your next session. The door to the range practice area opened with a soft click. Your heart dropped at the sight that stood before you, all your fellow recruits stood lined up in front of the Sergeant and…the Major. The Major. The one and only time you were late Major Kruser just had to be there. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before you spoke so you wouldn’t stumble over your words and blurt out something stupid.
Everyone's gaze was locked onto yours, your comrades, Sergeant… Major. Your face burned up with embarrassment.
“Explain.” Major said with a mechanical tone. His hands were behind his back, blonde hair neatly slicked back and covered with a red beret. He never looked untidy, always put together no matter what. His ice cold blue eyes were overcast by shadows from his strong brow bone, only making him more intimidating and scary looking. His gaze was glued to you, waiting for whatever excuse would come out of your mouth so he could use it against you.
“I lost track of time, Major Krauser.” You tried sounding confident, like you were telling the truth, which you were, you did lose track of time when you were staring at the bathroom reflection, striking different poses, admiring yourself, but you didn’t get into the specifics.
“If you cannot manage time on a base like this, you cannot be trusted out on the field.”
“I-” You tried explaining yourself but were cut off by him.
“Wesker, continue.” He turned his attention to all the lined up recruits as if you no longer existed, expecting you to find a spot in the line up. Your face was now also burning with rage. Who did he think he was? You had heard a few stories from other women about how he treated them compared to men, he had apparently always treated the women slightly worse than the men. He believed women didn’t belong in the field, that they were a liability. You wanted to punch him so hard, maybe you could accidentally aim your gun at him and pull the trigger right where his heart pumps out the cold blood that runs in his veins.
You made your way to the line up, finding a spot and blending in. You cussed the Major out, in your head of course, while you stood in the line up. Your sergeant gave you a disappointed look, before continuing with the lesson, explaining the instructions.
“Grab your hearing and eye protection, be ready in thirty seconds.”
Everyone scrambled to grab and put on protection before the sergeant would start inspecting. He walked the line slowly, carefully, not rushed. He stopped at the third recruit, then without warning he grabbed the side of the recruits earmuff and tugged it slightly. It shifted. “Not sealed.” He said flatly. The smug look on the recruits face was quickly wiped off as he was caught off guard. “Sergeant I-” Over time, you noticed that the Sergeant never cared for excuses so he was quick to cut the poor guy off. “Fix it.”
Next recruit, a silent nod of approval.
Next.
He stopped, leaning in slightly, making the recruit flinch. The Sergeant tapped the recruiters goggles with two fingers.
“They’re loose”
“They feel fine, Sergeant.”
The Sergeant paused for a few moments before leaning back. That was a mistake, you took mental notes, no talking back, just fix your mistakes.
“I didn’t ask how they feel.”
Silence washed over everyone, the Sergeant stepped back to make sure everyone could hear and see him properly.
“If your hearing protection isn’t sealed, it’s useless. If your eye protection isn’t secure, you’re a liability.”
He looked at the recruit. “Fix it. Now.”
Sergeant continued with his inspection, only a few other people had made a mistake or two, luckily you weren’t one of them.
“Take your firing points.” Everyone obeyed, taking position at their firing point, waiting for the Sergeants next orders. “Listen up, this is a live fire range. That means one thing, no mistakes.”
His eyes traveled down the line of recruiters.
“You will keep your finger off the trigger until you are ordered to fire.”
“You will never point your weapon at anything you are not prepared to destroy.”
“If you fail to follow these simple instructions, you will be removed from the range, immediately.”
“You fire only when you are told. You stop only when I say cease fire.”
He scanned the line one last time.
“If you are unsure about anything, you do not guess and risk someone's life, you wait.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Step to your weapons,”
He waited until everyone properly held their gun before continuing.
“Major Krauser will be observing the whole lesson. Do not give him a reason to remember your name.”
That last line sent a chill down your spine.
The range had been running like clockwork, smoothly, no mistakes. “Fire!” The line cracked with controlled bursts, almost rhythmic in a way. Brass casings hit the ground in steady intervals. You had been holding your right arm up in a straight line to the point where it got stiff, almost cramping. You brought it down for a second, shaking it to loosen it up with the gun still in your hand. Big mistake. Before you knew it, blood was oozing out of your foot. “SHIT!” You dropped your gun, not caring where or how it landed. You didn’t have the strongest pain tolerance, you became nauseous and suddenly needed to sit down somewhere, anywhere. You could feel cold sweat forming underneath your uniform.
“CEASE FIRE!” The Sergeant's voice was louder than the gun shots. The entire line froze. No movements. No second shots. Just, heavy silence, like a blanket.
“WEAPONS SAFE. GEAR OFF.” Everyone quickly followed the order, removing all protection and gear, putting their guns down. The sergeant was already on the go, moving fast, not panicked, but controlled. “Everyone, step away from your lanes.” Everyone stood still for a second, trying to process everything “NOW.” The recruits quickly stepped away.
You looked at your sergeant, you could clearly see his lips moving but you couldn’t hear anything other than muffled voices and sharp ringing in your ears, that's when your legs suddenly felt like noodles and your vision was no longer focused. You have no idea what happened after that.
Your eyes fluttered open. Machines beeped softly in the background, the smell of disinfectant cut through everything that had happened on the range. Everything felt too loud yet too quiet at the same time. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, the pain in your foot was unbearable, it felt as if the wound was open and someone was playing around with the exposed flesh, digging their fingers into the red meat.
You let out a groan, glad to at least be getting a little rest. That feeling didn’t last long cause next thing you knew, Major Krauser along with your Sergeant entered the room.
You’re doomed.
The Major glanced at the clipboard then set it down without reading it. Then, his eyes landed on you. “Report.” He said flatly. You hesitated for a second too long, it was enough for him to notice. “I asked for a report.” He repeated firmly. “I made an error while handling my weapon, sir.” The Major stared at you uncomfortably long, making you shift your gaze elsewhere. He finally shifted his weight slightly and spoke. “You understand what a live firing line is supposed to be?” It wasn’t a question but you felt as if you still had to answer. “Yes, sir.”
Another long pause. “Then explain to me,” he continued in an eerily calm tone, “how a weapon discharged outside command authority under supervision.”
“Umm…” He patiently waited for an answer, not cutting you off. It was like a parent gently scolding their child. “It was a mistake, sir.” The Major processed your words. “A mistake.” He repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. He didn’t like the taste of it. He stepped closer, not too close but close enough to intimidate you.
“In training, mistakes are expected, that is why supervision exists.” He looked at the clipboard then back at you. “But some mistakes end training.” He leaned his head down ever so slightly before speaking, “You know what happens now?” You bit down on your bottom lip, not answering immediately. The Major didn’t rush you. After a moment of thinking you shook your head.
“You are removed from live fire activity,” he said. “You will be reassessed before returning to any weapons training.”
“Reassessed, sir?”
“You heard me, you will repeat the fundamentals until you can demonstrate control.”
Somehow that was worse than him yelling or insulting you. With a defeated sigh you finally spoke, “Yes, Major Krauser.” Your gaze had shifted to the injury on your foot. “We wish you a speedy recovery.” He said but the tone of his voice and the weight of his disappointed stare said the opposite.
He simply stared at you for a moment before finally leaving, your Sergeant followed, shooting a warning glare at you before closing the door behind them both. All that followed was silence, not the peaceful kind, but the dreadful kind. You originally only had 6 weeks left of marine bootcamp but you just had to get yourself 2 weeks of more miserability.