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Apostle of Death [Soul Magic LITRPG]
Chapter 1: Drowning in Piss

Chapter 1: Drowning in Piss

I could smell piss, pure piss and I was drowning in it. Far from feeling disgust, I felt the need to breathe.

"Let's wash your face, Osman," Lucas sneered from behind the cloth covering my face, followed by the rush of water as he pulled down the flush. But instead of relief, panic consumed me.

"Hey Lucas, I think he’s had enough!" a distant voice protested over the roar of rushing water in my ears.

"Shut it or you're next," snapped Lucas. I couldn't barely hear his voice; my world had shrunk to the suffocating wetness that surrounded me.

With a yank, Lucas pulled the cloth off my head and I gasped for air before collapsing onto the floor, coughing hard. As I removed the mask, I saw Lucas pointing at me and his friends laughing, except for one. In his eyes, I could see shame, but when he caught sight of me looking back, he turned away. My gaze then landed on Nikhil D'souza, my former friend, silently washing his hands, ignoring me.

To him, I no longer existed - too lowly for his acknowledgement. I watched him continue to gaze at himself in the mirror as he grabbed tissues from the box next to it and wiped his hands. There was no help coming from him.

Suddenly, Lucas forced my head back under the water without warning. The clear liquid did little to wash away the disgust that filled me from the first dunking.

"I don’t think your face is washed properly," Lucas sneered.

I tried pushing against him, but he was much stronger and my efforts strained my neck and muscles. But even as my body fought for air, I couldn't stop trying.

"Lucas, he's turning blue!" a voice called out, most likely belonging to the student who had turned away from me earlier. If only he would stop shouting and actually do something.

Just as I was about to lose consciousness, Lucas let go and I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath as air rushed into my lungs. My vision blurred and my head spun.

But Lucas wasn't done yet. He repeatedly slapped my face, trying to wake me up.

"Is he dead?" he taunted. "Come on, Osman, can't handle a little water?"

Just as I began to drift off again, the bathroom door burst open and slammed against the wall with a loud thud. It shook everyone in the room, including myself. Through bleary eyes, I looked up to see who had barged in. It was Mr. Lee.

"Lucas Romford, explain yourself to me right now?" he commanded as he walked over to Lucas.

Lucas began stammering. “I-I-uh-I”.

His hand shot up, silencing any further explanations. His piercing gaze scanned the room, lingering on Lucas who continued to protest, but Mr Lee paid him no mind. He then moved on to his friends who begged for leniency, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Finally, his eyes settled on me, and I could see the apology in his apologetic glance before he turned to Nikhil - who also seemed taken aback by Mr Lee's presence. Before Mr Lee could even begin, Nikhil spoke up.

“Mr Lee, I had nothing to do with this. I was just minding my own business,” he pleaded desperately.

"Yes, Mr. D'Souza, and because you were minding your own business, a student was almost seriously hurt. Some star pupil you are."

I could feel Nikhil's eyes burning into me from the corner of the room, but I ignored it. My attention stayed fixed on Mr. Lee as he walked over. He bent down, his voice soft but firm. "Zak, are you alright? I heard loud splashing and laughing from the washroom. I had to check it out. I didn’t expect to find Lucas messing with you."

"But—But—Mr. Lee, we weren’t bullying or anything—"

"Save it for the principal’s office," Mr. Lee interrupted sharply, cutting off Lucas before he could say more. "Everyone, except Nikhil, out. Now!"

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They all shuffled past, throwing angry glares in my direction, Lucas included.

"Zak, are you okay?" Mr. Lee knelt beside me, placing a steady hand on my shoulder.

"Y-yeah," I muttered, trying to slow my breathing and calm myself down.

Mr. Lee glanced up at Nikhil. "Nikhil, take him to the nurse’s office."

"But… but," Nikhil stammered, clearly uncomfortable.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Mr. Lee’s tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Nikhil lowered his eyes, hesitation clear in his posture. "No, sir."

Nikhil grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He helped me out of the door, moving stiffly, as Mr. Lee stood there, watching us. With a nod, Mr. Lee turned around and walked away without a word. A few moments later, Nikhil shrugged me off his shoulder, patting his clothes like I had dirtied them.

“I think you’re fine. You can walk on your own. Didn’t see any real injuries.”

I didn’t argue. Didn’t feel like engaging with him. I stayed quiet, and in hindsight, that was a mistake—it only made him bolder. “I can’t believe I had to carry you. Now I have to wash my clothes because you couldn’t even be bothered to clean the piss off yourself.”

"You didn’t even give me a chance," I said, feeling my irritation rise.

"Ah, there it is. Ungratefulness. It’s always a problem with your lot, isn’t it? Never know how to appreciate help when it’s given," he scoffed.

I bit my tongue. There was no point in getting into it. We walked in silence, our footsteps echoing through the long, empty hallway. Nikhil sped up a few steps, like he didn’t want to be seen walking with me, like we were strangers. And maybe that’s what we’d become.

Once, we had been friends, back when we were younger and life was simpler. But as we grew up, something changed. He began looking down on me, especially after his dad pulled him into the family business. Our hangouts became fewer, and then they stopped altogether.

Things only became worse when his grandmother was killed during a robbery. Someone snatched her purse and left her bleeding in the street. I tried to reach out, went to their house to pay my respects, His parents were nice, they acknowledged my gesture, but Nikhil? He just turned cold.

As we neared the nurse’s office, I snapped out of my daze. Nikhil opened the door, walking in like nothing was wrong. “Hello, Miss Ball,” he said, sounding overly polite.

A blonde woman with glasses and a warm, bright smile peeked out from behind a curtain. “Hey, Nikhil! What can I help you with today?”

“Sit here,” Nikhil muttered, gesturing toward a plastic chair near the bed. He still wouldn’t look at me. “Miss, he's hurt. Mr. Lee asked me to bring him to you.”

“Ah, I see. An injury.” She pulled back the curtain, revealing herself in a tight white shirt, black skirt, and stockings. Grabbing a doctor’s jacket from a chair, she threw it on.

“I’ll leave him in your capable hands,” Nikhil said, giving her a small, stiff bow.

“Thank you, Nikhil. And tell Mr. Lee not to be late for our dinner tonight.”

Nikhil coughed awkwardly and quickly left. The nurse turned her attention to me, her face soft with concern. “You must be Zakir?”

“Just Zak,” I corrected, feeling the weight of everything sink in.

She came closer, inspecting my face with gentle hands. “Alright, Zak, first thing’s first—you reek of urine.” She slipped on rubber gloves and quickly checked my teeth.

“Okay,” I mumbled, not even sure how to respond.

“And your face looks alright. A few purple bruises, but no cuts, which is good. You should be fine.” She gave me a kind smile.

“That… sounds good,” I replied, trying to steady my voice.

She straightened up, her expression serious. “Not satisfied with my exam?” she asked with mock sternness.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I—” I stammered, but she cut me off, laughing.

“Don’t worry! I like messing with students when I’m bored. Keeps things interesting.”

I chuckled awkwardly, feeling a little lighter. She moved over to her table, pulled open a drawer, and brought out a small yellow cup filled with white pills.

“Here, take two now and two more tonight. It’ll help with reducing the inflamming on the bruises.”

She handed me the pills, then filled a plastic cup with water. I gulped them down, the pills tasting faint and artificial, though the taste quickly disappeared.

Before I could even thank her, there was a knock. The door clicked open, and Mr. Lee stepped in, his face tight with worry.

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