Chapter 1: I

  Do you know those stories where the first chapter is thrilling? They introduce us to a handsome, charismatic protagonist, someone with an enviable gift of speech and an imposing presence. But then, in the next chapter, everything changes: a different character appears, bland, with boring ambitions, stuck in some post-apocalyptic future.

  Why would you do that?

  Why would you change your protagonist like that?

  Those were the thoughts spinning around in my head as I walked down the school hallway.

  Weird, right?

  But really, who could blame me?

  I was in an excellent mood. I walked almost skipping, whistling the melody of one of my favorite songs. Even now, I still think it’s a great song. And with a mood like that, my thoughts wandered aimlessly.

  It felt like a dream. Not even the shoulder-check from one of those idiots from the class next door could pull me down from my cloud. Not the strange looks from the teachers, nor the gossip from the cleaning staff could drag me out of my euphoric state.

  You’re probably wondering why I was so happy.

  Easy. I was about to fulfill my most cherished dream. Years wanting to do it, losing sleep just thinking about it, improving day by day so I could pull it off.

  You’re dying to know what it is, aren’t you?

  But I’m not telling you.

  Why ruin the surprise?

  What’s going to happen today, I’m going to enjoy it. Hehe.

  “Hello, Mrs. Stacy, you look less fat than usual today.”

  My tone was sing-song, almost mocking. I could see the grimace of disgust the old cafeteria witch shot me.

  “Oh, Mr. James, I see you still smell like manure. It’s good some things never change.”

  Definitely nice to know he was still himself. I didn’t want to start doubting now.

  Doubting… The thought flashed through my mind for a moment, almost making me hesitate. But I shook my head and smiled even wider. I couldn’t start doubting now.

  “I almost forgot, I left you a present at your workstation. I hope you like it.”

  That seemed to shut her up. Her questioning look made me smile even more. She was probably wondering what kind of present it might be. But I kept walking. Nothing was going to stop me.

  “Stop right there, young Fort!”

  Ouch.

  Mrs. Parisi was coming straight toward me with firm steps, clutching her eternal clipboard. She probably loved that thing. Her furrowed brow gave away her anger.

  Even upset, she looked damn gorgeous. I always knew she was the most attractive teacher in the school. Seeing her again, yeah, she really did have a hell of an ass.

  When she reached me, she adjusted her glasses before speaking. She probably liked to make a show of it.

  “I see young people these days no longer feel any respect for this institution. Not only do you skip more than a month, you also decide to show up late.”

  She gave me a scolding look, as if the whole situation were my fault. Well, maybe I should’ve arrived earlier, but I had my reasons.

  Unfazed, I greeted her with all the politeness in the world.

  “Hello, ugly old witch. Shouldn’t you be stirring your cauldron at this hour?”

  Well, at least I tried.

  It seemed to hit her harder than I intended. She didn’t even respond, just stared at me wide-eyed. And not just her. Everyone in the hallway looked just as stunned.

  Since no one said anything and she didn’t move, I simply turned around.

  I had already waited long enough. I didn’t want to wait anymore.

  With everything that needed to be said already said, I went on my way.

  Shit.

  I staggered for a moment after turning around. I’m pretty sure my next three steps were wobbly until I managed to steady myself. Suddenly, I felt the sweat on my hands. Apparently, I’d been sweating for a while.

  Nausea, dizziness, itching all over my body. My heart was pounding so fast it had to be around 200 beats per minute or more. And it wasn’t just nerves. No, this had a lot more to do with the amount of drugs I’d taken for today.

  From the most harmless ones, like caffeine, guaraná, or coca leaves, to the strongest ones, like cocaine and amphetamines. But I hadn’t only taken stimulants; I’d also spent an entire month on anabolic drugs: 100 mg of prednisolone, 100 mg of prednisone, and up to ten leflunomide pills a day. All to amplify the effects to the maximum.

  “Stop, Fort!”

  A shout snapped me out of my thoughts as someone grabbed my arm.

  When I came back to myself, the sharp-tongued witch was standing in front of me, wearing an expression of fury that almost made her look like a demon.

  “How dare you disrespect me like that!? You—!”

  She really did look enraged. I could almost see fire in her eyes. She even snorted loudly, as if the short sprint she’d done to catch up to me had left her out of breath.

  She straightened up, regaining her composure. She definitely had a whole list of pretty words ready for me.

  “Insolent child! Skipping more than a month! Coming in late! Disrespecting your elders! Belittling this institution! And… what are those clothes!?”

  My clothes?

  I looked down and understood her reaction. I was wearing a thick light-brown trench coat that reached down to my knees. On a 26-degree day, anyone would think I was crazy.

  Speaking of appearances… I still haven’t described mine to you, have I?

  Yes, yes.

  I suppose I can give you a belated description of my fabulous looks.

  I’m blond, with fair skin and light blue eyes. I know, you don’t have to be jealous. And even if this coat doesn’t show it, I’ve got a well-trained body. I’ve been preparing non-stop for the past month.

  A few taps on my chest pulled me out of my self-admiration.

  Oh, right, I thought. I was supposed to be listening to her lecture.

  “Oh, were you saying something?”

  Wrong answer.

  The woman started smacking her clipboard against her palm in fury and stared straight at me before speaking.

  “You little brat—!”

  “You know what? Forget it. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  I yanked her hand away and started walking toward my goal again.

  Why does this bitch like wasting my time so much?

  I heard her hurried footsteps behind me; she was definitely about to catch up to me again.

  So I spun around suddenly so our eyes could meet—hopefully for the last time.

  Should I start with her?

  That thought crossed my mind in that instant.

  And then something unexpected happened in this little encounter.

  At first, I saw anger in her eyes. Nothing surprising there. Then, confusion. That wasn’t strange either. But what came next did catch me off guard: fear.

  A paralyzing fear.

  She froze in place, as if the air around her had turned to ice.

  Silence stretched between us for a few seconds.

  “I’m leaving.”

  With that, I went on my way.

  No one dared to stop me again. It was strange; I felt like a lion surrounded by terrified gazelles.

  Something had changed and there was no going back, but this wasn’t the time to think about it.

  I reached my destination without further interruptions. Following the hallway, it didn’t take long before I found my classroom. There were no more distractions: no teacher tried to call me out again, no bully stepped in my way, and no phone rang at the last second.

  Standing in front of the door, I took a brief moment of contemplation. I could feel a mix of emotions, a blend of anticipation and longing. There was also a hint of doubt, but I crushed it quickly.

  Without hesitating any further, I opened the door.

  “Hellooo, class! Did you miss me?”

  With an over-the-top greeting, I made my grand entrance. I could see the surprise on everyone’s faces.

  How lucky. Everyone’s here.

  They were all present. From the bitches who humiliated me by mocking my skinniness or my accent, to the shy ones who were content just to watch without stepping in. From the bullies who beat me up, to the cowards who fanned the flames so they wouldn’t become the target themselves.

  Even the teacher I hated the most was there. Everyone was present, almost as if someone had planned it. As if someone had made sure that, at this exact moment, every last person would be here.

  With all eyes fixed on me—surely admiring how magnificent I am—I turned around, intending to close the door. And of course, I didn’t forget to lock it. It was the key I’d taken from the janitor when I visited his workplace.

  “Fort? Is that you?”

  Of course he was confused, Professor Johnson. He was probably having trouble recognizing me. I mean, I was wearing a thick trench coat, acting very differently from my old self, and it had been over a month since we’d last seen each other. Obviously, to him, I was unrecognizable.

  Ignoring his question, I made sure the door was properly locked. Once that was done, I moved without looking at anyone toward the windows to confirm everything was in order.

  “Hey, you! Are you listening to me?”

  Apparently, my lack of response had annoyed him. The teacher pushed back his chair and started walking toward me.

  I could feel everyone’s eyes following my movements; some were already whispering about how strange I was acting.

  Ignoring all of that, I kept moving toward the windows. I had to dodge a few desks, but I confirmed what I already suspected.

  They couldn’t be used to escape.

  Looking through them, I could see bars. Every window had them. And with all of them barred and the door locked, what other way did they have to escape from what was about to happen?

  “How dare you ignore the teacher!”

  Ugh, how annoying.

  There she was: the class representative. The coward who was brave enough to scold well-behaved students, but not brave enough to scold the bullies.

  This bitch actually thought she had some kind of authority in this classroom. Ha ha ha. What a joke.

  The bitch marched toward me with firm steps, arms crossed and a disapproving scowl on her face. How unpleasant. It was precisely because of that attitude that I’d be able to start with her.

  “I see you finally decided to show up, but what’s this about arriving late? And dressed like that, no less. I’m sure that’s not allowed. And where is your note from the—? Blah, blah, blah.”

  I really wasn’t in the mood to listen to this hypocritical bitch lecture me about the things I supposedly did wrong. So I simply tuned her out. I was pretty sure most of the others did the same.

  You could tell she’d been saving it up, because once she started, she didn’t stop. Even though I wasn’t listening, I could tell how much effort she was putting into every sentence.

  Every now and then I gave her a bit of attention to see if she was about to finish, only to ignore her again immediately.

  “All right, all right, Miss Tricsy, I think we all got the message.”

  The teacher looked exhausted, just like most of the class. You really did have to give the bitch some credit for the sheer effort she put into her rant.

  “As for you, young Mr. Fort, I believe you owe us some explanations.”

  I could see that detestable, condescending smile on that two-faced teacher. It was obvious he planned to use this situation to humiliate me in front of the class.

  I didn’t care and kept walking around the room.

  I wanted to make sure there was no way out. Everyone’s lingering stares were annoying, but I ignored them.

  Windows: check. Door: check.

  I did a second inspection, confirming that the door was firmly locked.

  Ceiling inaccessible, walls are too thick, vents are sealed tight.

  Yeah, no one was leaving this place.

  “Are you on drugs?”

  Impatient and confused by my behavior, the teacher finally voiced what was probably on everyone’s mind.

  “Yes.”

  I stopped and stared straight at him as I answered. The look of shock on his face amused me.

  I looked away and gave the rest of them one last once-over. Without realizing it, I’d already walked around the whole classroom and ended up back by the window.

  I wanted to enjoy this moment as much as possible. On the faces of my future victims, I could see all kinds of emotions: amusement, confusion, curiosity.

  Yeah, I think it’s time.

  With that final thought, I took off my trench coat and tossed it onto one of my classmates. She let out a yelp of surprise that made my smile widen.

  Much better.

  The coat had already served its purpose. Now it would only get in the way of my movements.

  Disbelief spread over the faces of those watching me. They clearly hadn’t expected such a drastic physical change in just one month. Ah, drugs could work wonders… though if you value your life, don’t copy me.

  “How vulgar!”

  Unable to hold back any longer, the young would-be prefect lunged at me, probably fed up with my attitude.

  She closed in on me while I was doing some final stretches, ready to torture us all with another lecture.

  “This is the height of disrespect! Not only do you barge into class after being gone for a month, you also decide to strip in front of everyone while ignoring what’s going on around you. Don’t you realize how shameful your behavior is?”

  Well, that was shorter than I expected. I guess I’ll start with her.

  “What’s wrong now? Cat got your tongue? Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”

  RED

  That color stained the floor and the knife in my hand. I think some of it splattered on the teacher, but I didn’t care. I was more focused on the girl whose throat I’d just slit in front of me.

  The surprise in her wide-open eyes was exhilarating.

  Let’s get this show started.

  The bitch brought her hands up to try to stop the blood—or maybe it was just a reflex. Hard to tell.

  She collapsed to her knees as life slipped away through her eyes… and, well, through the cut in her throat too. Heh.

  There were a few gasps of shock, but no one moved to help her. I guess they were all in too much shock themselves.

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  I leaned in a little closer to her face to get a better look at her final moments.

  “Well? Weren’t you saying something? Did your words just die on you?”

  There was no answer. She simply toppled to the floor, hands still clutching her throat as a stream of tears escaped her now lifeless eyes.

  “You! What have you done?!”

  The teacher was the first to react. He screamed at me, completely frantic, hands on his head, his face twisted in horror. He shouted the question without being able to look away from the corpse. After all, he was the closest one to me… and therefore, to the girl with her throat cut.

  “What have I done? Easy: this.”

  Right after saying that, I drove the same knife I’d used on one of my “dear classmates” straight into his chest.

  That was enough to snap him out of his daze. He staggered a few steps, out of range of my knife, and collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood. Even at the end, all I could see on his face was confusion.

  I wiped the knife off a little and turned my attention to the rest of the class. No one said a word. It was like they still couldn’t process what had just happened.

  Well, so far so good… just a bit too easy.

  I didn’t want this to end so quickly. I needed to spice things up. That’s what I was thinking as I finished cleaning the knife.

  Are you wondering why I use knives instead of a gun?

  That’s simple: how else could I get this close to my “classmates” while they die? I didn’t want to miss out on the fun by using some boring weapon.

  Now, to snap them out of their trance…

  I had to do something cool. Can you imagine if I screwed it up now?

  “Why so serious?”

  Yeah… I think that’ll work.

  A sudden scraping sound pulled me out of my thoughts.

  My main bully had shot to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. He shoved his desk aside with a rough motion and charged at me recklessly.

  It didn’t take him long to reach me and throw a heavy hook. His technique was good—or at least that’s what I’d heard; supposedly, he boxed. But since I don’t practice it, what do I know.

  His punch must’ve been incredibly fast. A normal person probably wouldn’t have been able to react. For me, though, it was like watching a snail move in slow motion.

  “That’s it!”

  As I dodged each of his blows, I realized something that had been bothering me.

  Why was everyone talking so slowly?

  Why did they take so long to react?

  Why could I stand here thinking about all this with an attacker right in front of me?

  The answer was simple.

  Because of the ridiculous amount of drugs I’d taken before coming here. Although in hindsight it should’ve been obvious, that was the whole reason I’d taken them in the first place.

  They sharpened all my senses, keeping me in a constant state of euphoria.

  “How slow… Is this really the best you can do?”

  I said that as I ducked under a right hook and then slipped to the side to avoid an uppercut.

  A frustrated growl was the only response I got.

  With a sigh, I dodged his next punch, but this time I didn’t stop there.

  Raising the knife in my hand, I launched my counterattack.

  “Fine, if you don’t want to talk, I guess a knife in your knee will help you reflect.”

  And that’s exactly what I did. Standing beside him, with the bloodied knife still in my hand, I stabbed him in the knee.

  His scream of pain was comforting, although several scraping sounds quickly drew my attention.

  Six students: four girls and two boys.

  As they snapped out of the shock of the situation, their first reaction was to run to the door.

  Clearly, it was the best option. That’s why I’d locked it beforehand.

  But I couldn’t let them get away with it.

  Ignoring the bastard with the ruined knee, I dashed forward, pulling one of the many knives from my belt.

  What, I didn’t tell you?

  I have sixteen knives around my waist.

  Did you really think I’d come to this fight with just one knife?

  You’ve got to be kidding… how else am I supposed to finish everyone off with a single measly knife?

  Taking a throwing stance, I hurled the weapon at the person closest to the door. It turned out to be one of the quiet girls who sat near the front.

  Before she could touch the door, the knife buried itself in the back of her neck. It was a clean hit; the blade sank in all the way to the hilt.

  The nameless girl crashed face-first into the door from the momentum, blocking the way for the others trying to escape.

  But I didn’t focus on that.

  Pulling out two more knives, I threw them at the next two closest students, taking two more annoyances off my plate… and adding two more corpses to theirs.

  The message was clear: get close to the door and I’ll put a knife in your skull.

  Not that it really mattered—I was going to kill them anyway.

  But what probably kept them from moving forward wasn’t just the fear of a knife to the neck… it had more to do with the sheer amount of blood soaking the door and walls.

  Unable to hold it in any longer, one of the students started vomiting.

  He wasn’t the only one by that point.

  Then the chaos broke loose.

  Most of them leapt from their seats, trying to put as much distance between themselves and me as possible.

  Others covered their faces with their hands, trying to hide from reality.

  Screams and sobbing filled the classroom in a hysterical cacophony.

  But there was one thing they all had in common.

  FEAR

  Every single one of them looked at me with pure terror in their eyes.

  And then I smiled.

  Twenty-three including the teacher… that’s five so far… eighteen to go. I’ve got twelve left. I’ll have to be economical.

  I needed to be careful, or I’d run out of knives.

  “Now then… who’s next?”

  They were like deer in headlights. Most of them couldn’t tear their eyes away from me, though some, like “the second bastard,” could. He was one of my main bullies too—the second in command.

  The first one was still trying, uselessly, to stand up and ignore the pain. A task clearly beyond him.

  The second watched me defiantly. He stood tall with a confident air, arms crossed over his chest. His attitude was giving some of my “classmates” courage; they began to cluster around him. Clearly, they thought numbers would play in their favor.

  Now… what should I do?

  Part of me wanted to rush them immediately, to keep them from coordinating. Another part craved that challenge.

  But what amused me the most at that moment was kicking the supporting leg of the first bully.

  “Grrr…”

  A frustrated growl escaped him as he fell for the umpteenth time. God, I love my life.

  While I gave them time to reorganize, I soon found myself facing a small group of eleven people ready to fight. They were the last nine boys in the class and two of the bravest girls. Though nervous, together like that they looked intimidating. Still, I let them keep discussing their plan of attack.

  “Listen! All at once! Don’t let him get away! Make sure he can’t escape!”

  They charged at me, trying to tackle me. They’d use their numbers to overwhelm me. Knowing that not even with my perception of time slowed could I dodge all of them, I did the most logical thing: I rushed toward the area with the fewest students.

  There were only two there, with the others coming in behind them. I’d also left a desk in their path to get in their way.

  I watched them glance toward the desk for a moment, trying to move it. That was their last mistake.

  The others were coming in a second later. In that fraction of a second, I went from retreat to charge.

  When they lifted their heads, it was already too late. They had a knife between their eyebrows.

  Pulling my arms back, I threw that same pair of knives at two more classmates who were distracted in the back.

  The blades sank deep into their chests. In that instant, I reduced the number of attackers by a third.

  “Don’t back down! Attack this bastard!”

  With that shout, “bully two” was the first to reach me. He kicked the desk I’d used in the ambush and sent it flying toward my face.

  Trying to block my vision?

  It worked. While I moved to dodge the desk, he was already on top of me.

  I pulled out one of my last ten knives, slid to his right, and tried to stab his side, but he used his arm as a shield, effectively trapping my weapon.

  While all that was happening, I didn’t notice I now had three attackers at my back.

  Shit.

  What was I supposed to do? Three behind me, three more incoming, and my knife stuck in his arm.

  With no room to maneuver, I did what I do best: improvise.

  I let go of the knife and kicked him. The blade grazed “bully two’s” face, making him stumble into the three rushing up behind him.

  I definitely smashed my head into the crotch of the one in the middle as I pulled out two more knives and drove them into the chests of the other two.

  “Ahhhh!”

  I hit the floor along with the two corpses and the guy groaning in pain, all while hearing the shouts of the last three charging in to grab me.

  This is bad.

  They’d reach me in a second, and I was lying flat on the ground with my arms spread out. Worse, “bully two” had recovered and would be on me in three seconds at most.

  I had to make a decision, and fast.

  With no more time to rest, I decided to trust my instincts. Pushing off with my arms and head—of course, putting extra strength into the head; we don’t want the friend underneath feeling abandoned, right?—I drove my lower body up into a roll to get myself off the floor.

  As I flipped, I kicked the nearest attacker in the face, using that small opening to draw two fresh knives and force the other two back.

  As I drove them away, I noticed the girls who hadn’t gotten involved so far starting to move, clearly intending to join in. And as interesting as it would’ve been to see them charge at me, I couldn’t allow them to join that easily.

  Don’t you agree?

  With the freshly drawn knives still in my hands, I threw them at the two closest girls, landing perfect bullseyes in their chests.

  All that practice paid off, I thought with my eternal smile. I’d spent every day of the last month practicing my aim at least three hours a day—how could I not be proud of it?

  “Don’t back down, cowards! We have to kill him!”

  A furious shout drew all my attention. It was “bully two”; he looked genuinely pissed, the knife still lodged in his arm as he charged at me with a chair in his hands.

  I barely had time to recover from my throw before I had to start dodging the blows raining down on me.

  The prospect of using a chair to harass me seemed to ignite a fresh spark of hope in the faces of my “dear classmates.” I saw the three I’d scared off just seconds ago grab chairs in a panic and rush me.

  With the intense pressure from “bully two,” things were already starting to get complicated; once his three lackeys joined in, I barely had time to think.

  We ended up in a stalemate.

  I was too focused on dodging to counterattack, and they couldn’t land a hit on me. We were just waiting for something external to break the balance.

  And it didn’t take long for that moment to arrive.

  And it wasn’t thanks to some sudden burst of courage from one of the girls who still hadn’t joined in…

  What broke the fragile balance was something entirely different.

  In a moment of sharp focus, I had to dodge a combo from two nameless attackers in front of me, then duck under a chair swing from “bully two” that came with a kick included. The kick was easy to block, but right then, as I braced for the next assault, it happened.

  A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision, making me throw my arm up on reflex. I felt something strange when one of the many knives I’d left scattered around slammed into the arm I’d raised.

  Looking in surprise toward the new attacker, I saw “bully one,” all while feeling my grip on the knife in my other hand weaken. And that’s where I made a big mistake.

  I felt a sudden impact to the head that forced it down, tipping my whole body forward and almost knocking me flat again.

  One of the lackeys had smacked me with a chair while I was distracted, and that made me drop the knife I was already gripping weakly.

  But as I straightened up and drove the knife in my other hand into the chest of my now doubly-surprised attacker, I realized something odd about my current body.

  I couldn’t feel any pain.

  In fact, it hit me that I didn’t just lack pain—I didn’t have any sense of touch or taste at all.

  I was completely cut off from those senses, which was strange. I was sure that earlier this morning, those particular senses had been pretty heightened.

  Did the hypersensitivity end up frying my nervous system?

  Shrugging off the pointless question, I ripped the weapon from the lackey’s chest, only to pull out the handle as his limp body fell, the blade still buried inside him.

  “Well, what a shitty knife.”

  I tossed the handle away carelessly in front of the last survivors in the room. They made quite the picture: four girls clutching chairs and trembling in a corner. Let me correct that… three barely holding onto their chairs and one clinging to herself.

  On the other side were “bully two” and his cronies, “Broken Nose” and “No-Name,” all with chairs in hand. The first held his in a menacing way; the others could barely keep their grip.

  Limping toward them was “bully one.” His eyes were locked on me with intense focus; he looked like he’d improvised a tourniquet to slow the blood loss.

  And last but not least, there was the “queen of all bitches.” She was curled up in the farthest corner, trying to smother her sobs. From time to time she’d look up, only to quickly lower her gaze again.

  Oh, right. There was also “lackey four,” but he seemed indisposed. Still in the fetal position, he was cradling his crotch; you could even see a trace of blood coming from it.

  Poor guy.

  “Now, now… this has been a wonderful little gathering, but all good things must come to an end.”

  The classroom was a wreck. Blood and corpses covered the floor and walls, and there were still ten more to go.

  No one answered my comment, but that was probably for the best.

  “I guess it’s my move, then.”

  Without giving them time to react, I dashed toward the weaker group—the four girls, obviously.

  Kicking the chair from the hands of the closest one, I drove one of my last knives through her throat. And I didn’t stop there: I could hear footsteps rushing toward me, I had to finish this.

  With a quick spin, I slit the next one’s throat while throwing my other knife at another girl holding a chair. Then I grabbed the body of the freshly-slain girl and hurled it toward the three behind me. After a few quick steps, I reached the last one and plunged the knife into her head.

  All of that didn’t even take five seconds, I think—

  —I can confirm it didn’t even take three… right, sorry, I’m the witness here. Please, continue!

  I looked at the last six: two relatively unharmed, two injured, one out of commission, and a girl… the most useless one, of course.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  I said it mockingly to my three would-be attackers as I walked toward them. “Bully one” seemed eager to join in too, but his injury wasn’t helping.

  My steps were steady, my back straight, radiating the confidence I felt. The two lackeys couldn’t help but step back, clearly intimidated by me.

  As for “bully two,” he stayed where he was, wearing the same defiant expression he’d had since the massacre began.

  He was extremely tense, clutching his one good arm around the chair handle in a death grip. His breathing was erratic and his skin flushed red—he was definitely exhausted.

  “If you’re not coming, then I’ll come to you.”

  I barely finished speaking before I moved. Almost at an inhuman speed, I was right in front of “bully two” and, without hesitation, launched a kick he managed to block with the chair, sending him flying at least four meters before he crashed into the wall.

  “Don’t rush it. I want to save you for last.”

  I wanted to finish off “Broken Nose,” “No-Name,” and “lackey four” first. The other three I wanted to save for dessert.

  Standing between “Broken Nose” and “No-Name,” I watched the tremors in their bodies spike dramatically.

  “P-Please don’t—”

  The first to beg for his life was “No-Name,” so I rewarded his useless pleading with a knife through the throat.

  While I was distracted by the gurgling of “No-Name’s” life slipping away, “Broken Nose” desperately raised his chair to try and hit me.

  Without even looking at him, I simply swung my hand, slashing his throat with the other knife, then finished by pulling out the first one and letting both bodies drop lifeless to the floor.

  I’m filthy. I need a shower.

  I was starting to feel a little tired, I was beginning to reek, and I was hungry.

  What should I do when I’m done here?

  I was starting to have random thoughts like that because of how little of a challenge this whole incursion had turned out to be. I guess I couldn’t expect much from a bunch of kids.

  I walked calmly toward “lackey four.” It looked like the intense pain had finally made him pass out.

  “Ugh, how boring.”

  What’s fun about killing someone who’s basically already dead? I thought with disdain as I crouched down to finish him off.

  Once that last appetizer was done, I stood and headed for my “first victim.”

  The “queen of all bitches.” She was still on the floor, hiding her face between her knees and wrapping her arms around herself. You could hear faint sobs leaking out.

  “Bully one” and “bully two” had regrouped and were now behind me, which I allowed. I wanted to give them the impression I was open, exposed, defenseless.

  I wanted them to have the false hope that they could beat me, so they’d sink deeper into despair when I shattered it.

  I knew I’d been playing with fire up to this point, but that’s the fun part of life: it’s not always a bad thing to give it a little shove.

  Why am I zoning out when I’ve got this bitch right in front of me?

  Without further delay, I stood in front of her and decided to toss more fuel onto the fire.

  “I wonder what I should do with you. Should I start with your fingers? Or maybe break a few bones? Or better yet… I could rip off your clothes and see how—”

  PAIN

  That was all I felt before I could finish my sentence: pain. Something had lodged itself in the lower part of my abdomen, sending a wave of intense agony through my whole body.

  It was obviously a taser. The worst part was how my body reacted to the pain. Because of the lack of sensation in my skin, everything was internal… and very intense, if I may say so.

  “Grab him! Don’t let him escape!”

  Writhing on the floor in pain, the bitch’s shout made it clear I was in real trouble. Well, that and the two extra weights that pinned my arms to keep me from moving.

  With teeth gritted, “bully one” and “bully two” had finally found their chance and lunged to hold my arms with all their strength, preventing any chance of escape… of course, at the cost of getting electrocuted themselves.

  “Finally done with that herd of sheep. I was getting tired of pretending.”

  I’m sure I don’t have to explain why I gave her such a lovely nickname, do I?

  The “queen of all bitches” strutted in front of me and her two dogs, her finger firmly pressed on the taser trigger. The whole act of trembling fear had vanished, and now she was showing her true colors.

  “You know, it was really fun watching you kill this rabble. Especially that nerd.”

  Looked like she’d decided to start her monologue. She bent down to pick up one of the knives I’d dropped.

  “What was it you were saying a moment ago? Something about—”

  “Just shut up already and kill him, whore!”

  “Stop wasting time, bitch!”

  It seemed the two bullies weren’t thrilled about her chitchatting while they were being electrocuted. Poor thing—she’d probably prepared a glorious speech that would’ve made her look like a true mastermind.

  “You two are so boring. At least let me make fun of your virginity, will you?”

  …

  “Fine, I’ll finish off the lunatic.”

  That was the end of my reflection time. I knew it: I had to do something, and fast.

  Without hesitation, the “queen of all bitches” lunged at me, aiming to drive the blade into my head.

  Is this really the end?

  Being killed by the ones I saved for last?

  UNACCEPTABLE!

  There was no time left to think.

  It was time to act.

  It all happened in an instant—only a few seconds at most.

  On pure instinct, I lashed out with a kick to her crotch. Well, more of a knee, given the angle.

  Since she was over me trying to stab me, the blow knocked her off balance and made her fall onto me, driving the knife into my shoulder instead.

  While she screamed in pain, “bully two” had the brilliant idea to let go with one hand to grab the knife in my shoulder. That was his last mistake.

  If they could barely restrain my strength with both arms, now that he let go with one, they didn’t stand a chance.

  Without delay, once that arm was free, I used it to grab his crotch and squeeze with everything I had.

  That gave me enough time to reach the knife in my shoulder and stab “bully one’s” arm, forcing him to release me. Then I grabbed the last knife from my belt and stabbed the bitch lying on top of me.

  That let me shove her off and stab “bully two” with the other knife. Apparently, attacks to the crotch are very effective.

  He didn’t even put up resistance.

  “Ahh… ahh… ahh…”

  That was close.

  My heavy breathing echoed as I tried to recover from the frantic experience.

  Aren’t I forgetting something?

  Then I felt it. In my distraction, “bully one”… no, Brandon, had stabbed me in the throat.

  On pure reflex, I repaid him with one to the stomach as I turned.

  Our eyes met at that exact moment; he did not look happy. He was pissed, which he showed by spitting in my face.

  Before he could increase the force of his attack, I stabbed him three more times, making him collapse lifeless to the floor. But he never dropped that defiant look—not even at the end.

  The blood wouldn’t stop flowing; I’d be panting even harder right now if it weren’t for obvious reasons.

  The blood kept pouring out; my vision was already starting to blur. Everything turned red.

  Knock, knock.

  “Is everything all right in there? We’ve been hearing strange noises for a while, and the door won’t open.”

  I thought, amused. It seemed all the commotion had finally drawn someone’s attention.

  I’d like to answer, but right now I’m lying on the floor, choking on my own blood.

  In those final moments, the red shifted to yellow.

  That’s weird.

  And then everything went black.

  …

  …

  Where am I?

  I could feel an incredible softness surrounding my naked body, and another warm body beside me.

  I’d better not do that again.

  I said to myself as a sharp headache tore through my skull. Yesterday I’d decided to try creating a new kind of alcohol that could get past my immunity to poisons. And it seems it worked very well.

  Another wave of pain shook my head. I was in for a nasty hangover… at least until my accelerated regeneration did its job.

  Wow, I really made it strong this time.

  I couldn’t help congratulating myself for having created a brew that could overcome my immunity.

  My happiness didn’t last long, though. Another stab of pain… and something brushed my hand.

  When I looked to my side, I saw what anyone would describe as perfection made woman.

  Hair as red as fire, emerald eyes—closed for now—cherry-colored lips, an angelic face, pale skin, and an absurdly seductive body. Especially since she was completely naked.

  I quickly turned my gaze away before I could regret what I was about to do.

  Not again.

  I cursed myself inwardly as I slipped out of bed—also naked—doing my best not to wake her, and headed toward the full-length mirror in the room.

  Idiot. You can’t fall for her. You need to control yourself.

  Once I was in front of the mirror, I paused to admire my magnificent body, sculpted by the Greek gods themselves:

  Blond hair that shone like gold, blood-red eyes, flawless white skin, a square jaw, sharp cheekbones, one meter ninety-eight in height. Perfect musculature, without sacrificing speed or agility.

  Oh, and a nice package. I’m perfect.

  Although the most striking thing wasn’t that, but my right arm, completely golden up to the shoulder, with black stripes; and a black scar with golden streaks running from my left cheek all the way down to my right hip, connecting across my back. Practically cut in half.

  As I admired my reflection, I heard soft footsteps approaching.

  Delicate arms wrapped around me, and I felt the touch of a smaller, warm body.

  I went rigid.

  “Hellooo! Did you have a nice dream?” the woman said in a sing-song voice.

  My body tensed even more as I felt her breath on my back.

  “Yes, it was a pleasant dream.” I tried to sound as cold as possible, ignoring her closeness… and especially those two soft mounds.

  “Oh? Do you want to tell me about it?” As she spoke, she started tracing circles over my muscles with her fingers, teasing me. And every now and then, she brushed my “friend.”

  Ignoring her question, I deactivated the opacity function on the window in front of me, revealing space: an infinite darkness speckled with points of light.

  “So the almighty god doesn’t want to answer,” she whispered, stepping up her game.

  “You’re lucky it’s you, or you’d already be dead.”

  I had to be harsh with her. But we both knew I wouldn’t hold out for long.

  “So if you don’t have anything planned… maybe we could go back to bed and pick up where we left off yesterday?”

  “Fortunately for me, I have better plans than being with a forgery.”

  I could feel how my words hurt her. But I had to say them. If I didn’t pull away soon, I’d fall again. And I couldn’t allow that.

  Activating my ability, a golden mist wrapped around us both. In the blink of an eye, we were dressed.

  I was wearing a stylized yellow SS feldgrau uniform, and she had on a purple SS art déco dress with a slit skirt and a white lion fur coat.

  Wait… how the hell do I even know that?

  Pushing those thoughts—and her—away, I focused on getting out of that awkward situation.

  “I understand… I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Even though I could hear the pain she was trying to hide in her voice, I chose to ignore it.

  “Today I’m cooking a new recipe the slaves taught me… maybe we could eat together?”

  Don’t turn around, just walk.

  “Don’t worry, Jane. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Really?! Then I’ll make sure to prepare the best meal you’ve ever tasted.”

  And then she gave me a smile.

  A beautiful, blessed smile.

  I had to turn away quickly and teleport far, far away, or we would’ve ended up back in bed.

  All the while cursing myself inside:

  Damn it… why are you so weak?