"Oh dear, we're late! We're late!" Sara squeaks as she rushes through the gates of our school with a piece of bread in her mouth.
"If we're so pressed for time," I groan, "Why did you stop at the convenience store in the mag rail station to buy a sandwich?"
Its times like these I feel like cuffing Sara on the head. Why do something so obviously stupid and contradictory? If I didn't know better, I would have sworn Sara bought the sandwich as a prop all for the sake of putting on a show right now. But my better nature reasserts itself against such ungenerous assumptions.
Truth is, Sara's just a moron.
"Because I missed breakfast this morning in my rush to fetch you!" Sara yells back, her voice muffled from chewing on the bread at the same time.
"How do you even manage to talk with your mouth full?" I remark as my feet easily keep pace with Sara. For all the fuss my friend is raising, she's not actually moving all that fast. Her panicky gallop is equivalent to a sedate canter on my part.
"Are you like, skinny fat?" I ask, "Not getting enough exercise at home?"
"Do you have to be so mean in the morning?" Sara burbles as her jaws work that sandwich, "I watch my weight everyday, Robbie. And most girls don't want to become steroid muscle beasts in the first place."
"Just asking. No offence intended." I raise an eyebrow, "And you don't need to rush. There's some kind of commotion right at the school's main entrance. We can use that as an excuse for coming in late to class."
"Huh?" Sara finally pulls her attention away from her impromptu breakfast and takes notice of the large crowd gathered at the main entrance.
Rutger's has the benefit of a large campus, but the space seems smaller than it really is thanks to how the school has been built. There's the historic academy, an old, handsome building that's been existence for the last two hundred years or so. Despite the academy's ornate exterior, complete with carvings on the walls and no joke, gargoyles, the building itself had been condemned decades ago. The interior had apparently rotted away and the mold constituted a lethal health hazard. The academy was sealed and supposedly slated for renovation, which have been stalled since forever because of the monstrous cost involved.
Actual classes took place in the new school, a rectangular and thoroughly modern building used as a replacement for the monolithic concrete carcass sitting beside it. There were originally plans for part of the old academy to be turned into an annex of the new school and a connecting passageway had been built linking the two buildings together. But the passageway had been kept locked thanks to the academy being a health hazard to everyone.
All this happened before my time of course, stale rumors that circulated from the teachers to the students year after year. Doesn't stop anyone from gossiping about the derelict though.
"Did you hear?" I ask Sara, "Supposedly someone went missing in the old academy."
"Please. Not that story again." Sara scoffs, "I thought you were smarter than this, Robbie."
"Its true. I heard the story from Paul the other day." I shoot back as Sara continues her trot toward the main entrance.
"And you think the commotion ahead is because of the so called missing person?" Sara questions me with a critical look on her face.
"I mean, what else could it be?" I shrug back, "That's the most exciting thing that could happen here at Rutger's."
"Do you see any police officers in the crowd?" Sara quizzes.
"Uh, no?" I mumble, squinting into the crowd.
"And what is that crowd made out of?" Sara crows triumphantly as she finishes off her sandwich.
I scrunch my brows at Sara's comment. Girls. Its a huge cluster of girls. Blushing girls. Squeeing girls. Girls that look like they're about to pass out. There's a few dudes milling about the edges with black expressions on their faces, but the people in front of the entrance are ninety nine percent female.
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"You want the real story?" Sara's voice turns into conspirational whisper, "Someone new is joining the school today. A transfer student."
"I don't see how that could get everyone so excited -" I begin to remark but a breathy shout cuts me off.
"OH MY GAWD, HE'S SO CUTE." rando girl A screeches with both hands to her cheeks.
A lone student gently maneuvers his way out of the circling group of girls, an embarrassed expression on his face. A pair of female students quickly grab at his arms and press themselves on to him.
"Ah. Please excuse me." the guy says in an urbane voice while graciously shaking off the pair of girls hanging on like barnacles.
"Wow." Sara gapes for a moment at the display.
"Not you too." I groan. Now I understand why all the other guys look ready to commit murder. But to give credit where its due, the transfer student is bona fide handsome. His face is like a finely worked marble sculpture. And I think he's even got skin smoother than the girl's around him do.
There's something nagging me about this guy though. His very presence is pissing me off. Like I desperately need to beat him up, right now. And the most worrying part of it is, I have no idea why.
"Carl, Carl." one of the guy's admirers stands in front of him, "You just got here right? I can show you around the school. Make you feel welcome?"
"How does she even know that guy's name?" I mutter in disbelief.
"If you weren't distracted with silly rumors," Sara muses as she brushes her hands clean, "You would have heard that the son of a big time CEO was transferring here."
"That so." I stare at the cream colored stretch limo driving out of Rutger's campus. No guesses who just stepped out of it. And while Carl wears the attire recommended by the school, the cut and quality of his clothes make it clear that its all been tailored specifically for him. That guy positively reeks of money and privilege.
"No, thank you." Carl says flatly to the girl nearly throwing herself at him. Instead of heading directly into the school, he hurriedly backs away in our direction, probably to escape the throng of horny young women after his money and body.
"Oh, so cold." the girl sighs to herself. From the expression her face, you would have thought she just orgasmed hard.
"Your mood's getting worse." Sara helpfully points out to me.
"Am I so transparent?" I droll back, "Let's just get to class."
Both Sara and I pick up the pace as the crowd of hormonal teenagers pursues their quarry. Right toward us.
"Kya~" Sara cries out as Carl barges into her. And right on cue, my friend flops to the floor and lets everyone get a good view of her underpants.
"Sorry." Carl says as he hurriedly helps Sara get up.
Seriously?
Seriously?
Who gets off to this shit?
Why does this always happen?
How many times has this happened?
The voices in my head scream. They're the only thing that I can hear. The headache is back with a vengeance.
And Carl's infuriating face, so close to me, so close that I could just -
--------
"Pointless."
The man standing in front me says with a small smile on his face. That smug marble smooth complexion. Those nice, expensive clothes. Its all so infuriating.
But all that's not the reason why I hate Carl.
I hate him for what he failed to do for me.
I hate him for what I've been forced to become.
Carl can't see my face. This mask, this infuriating muzzle, prevents me from revealing my identity to him. It even stops me from talking. I can't take it off, no matter how much I want to. Those are the rules you see.
And our world runs on rules.
"Let's get this over with." Carl smirks and there's a flash of ether. A broadsword materializes in his waiting hand and he points the weapon at me with confidence.
"YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN WIN?"
A loud booming voice resounds all around us. Rutger's collapses as the voice speaks, the whole campus going up in flames.
"Well, I can only do my best." Carl responds with a refreshing smile.
"AMUSING."
"I'm more interested in the person speaking to me, rather than the goon posturing over there." Carl narrows his eyes.
"THINKING OF ADDING ME TO YOUR HAREM?"
"I've heard no complaints from the women so far." Carl grins, "Don't knock it till you try it."
"I AM ALREADY MARRIED."
"I don't mind an older woman." Carl flashes a flirtatious look at no one in particular, "Just think about it. That's all I ask."
"I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU TO THINK ABOUT AS WELL."
"Oh? My charm must be working."
I barely manage to hold back a snort at this display.
"THE SKILL YOU JUST PURCHASED FROM THE SYSTEM SHOP WON'T HELP YOU."
"What?" Carl staggers back as if he had been slapped on the face. And there it is. The look I had been waiting for.
The look of fear.
"NUMBER 69."
I tense instinctively, like a guard dog being called into action.
"DESTROY HIM."
------------
"Robbie, no!" Sara screams in fright.
I don't hear her. The red haze descends over my vision, blotting everything else out. Leaving me alone with the smell of fire and ash. But there's one thing I know that I must do.
"Puuuuunnnniiiisssshhhher Fiiiiiiiissssst!" I bark, lashing out at my enemy.