|Unknown Pov |

"The men are ready," I said to the boss, my phone pressed to my ear.

"Good, make sure that you find her and this time actually finish her," the hoarse voice on the other end commanded, then the phone cut off.

I turn to look and glare at my men. "This time around, you wouldn't be so lucky," I snapped. They gritted their teeth in agreement, the instruments of death in their hands, demanding blood.

               | RED'S POV|

"Okay, this is your stop," Aunt May beamed, her eyes lighting up as she glanced in my direction. She turned around, taking in the campus with a contagious excitement that seemed to surpass even my own.

How is she happier about this than I am? I gazed at her, a puzzled expression on my face, bracing myself for the imminent emotional speech I sensed was coming.

"Remember what I said, dear."

'Oh no, here it goes' I thought, mentally preparing myself for the familiar words of advice.

"You have to stay strong. This is a new level, which means no bullies."

She was right, of course. I couldn't forget the torment I endured in high school, the relentless bullying I faced simply because I excelled academically. They accused me of sleeping around with the male teachers, as if my intelligence was something to be punished for. But it wasn't my fault that my mind could handle what theirs couldn't comprehend.

“All you have to do is lay low under the radar and avoid those types of people," she advised.

I did that in high school, it didn't stop the bruises.

I nodded, the memories of high school's bruises still lingering in my mind. I hugged her tightly, grateful for her support, and then stepped out of the car, approaching the entrance of the school. Before entering, I turned to give her one final wave of goodbye. She smiled warmly and drove away.

'Breathe, Red. This is not high school. People are more mature here,' I reassured myself, hoping that my new environment would be different.

As I walked into the school, my nervousness manifested physically. My toes curled up in my shoes, and my heart pounded so loudly that I feared anyone walking beside me might hear it.

"Calm down, girl," my inner voice repeated, trying to soothe my racing thoughts, "you're going to be alright."

Lost in my anxious thoughts, I unintentionally collided with someone. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" I began to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could finish my sentence.

He turned around, his expression exuding annoyance and irritation. I was taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. 'What a great day, Red', I sarcastically thought to myself.

"Freak," he muttered, passing judgment without even knowing me. I stood there, wide-eyed and astonished, unable to fathom how he could label me so quickly.

Freak. That name has already stuck with me since middle school, and now some random dude with glasses obscuring his grey eyes, greasy hair, sweatpants, and a t-shirt uttered that word as if he knew me.

That does it.

"Freak?" I retorted, my voice laced with frustration. "Look, I'm sorry I bumped into you, but that doesn't give you the damn right to call me that."
I was tired, tired of people like him who believed they held authority over the weaker ones. But I was no longer weak.

I expected something like "I'm sorry" or "My bad" from this dude standing here, but all I received was “Not bad for a freshman” and an annoying smirk. 

What does that even mean? And how did he know I was a freshman?

"How did you know I—" I began to question him, but he abruptly turned away, leaving me standing there, my words hanging in the air, unanswered.

●●●

I had managed to put the earlier incident out of my mind as I made my way towards the reception office. The sound of the keyboard echoed through the room, its loud creaking resembling a cry for help. I stood there, waiting for the woman behind the desk to acknowledge my presence, but she seemed oblivious to my presence, lost in her tasks.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat, trying to catch her attention. She finally looked up, her displeasure evident on her face.

"I-I am here to get my schedule," I stammered, surprising myself with the sudden return of my nervousness. Just minutes ago, I had confidently stood up to a random stranger. Her expression made it clear that she was not pleased with my interruption.

"What's your name?" she asked, annoyance lacing her words. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words escaped my lips. The pressure in the room seemed to intensify.

"Hey, young lady, I don't have all day," she snapped impatiently, her impatience adding to my growing anxiety.

I swallowed nervously, my throat feeling dry. "I-It's Red Hathaway, Ma'am," I finally managed to stammer out. She rolled her eyes and began searching for my name on her computer, her irritation palpable.

Why did I stutter? I thought I had overcome that.

When I was twelve years old, Aunt May had noticed my struggle with stuttering, particularly when I communicated with people other than her. It had taken time and effort for her to help me improve, and while it hadn't completely disappeared, it had significantly diminished over the years.

"You have five minutes until your next class," she informed me curtly, as if my presence was an inconvenience. Relief washed over me. At least it wasn't English. I despised that subject.

"Umm, which course is it?" I asked, my voice tinged with fear.

"Chemistry 101," she replied. I let out a sigh of relief. The prospect of facing an English class would have been far more daunting.

"Thank you," I said tentatively, about to express my gratitude, but she immediately returned to her previous tasks, dismissing me without a second thought.

'People here are so rude', I thought to myself, feeling a sense of disillusionment settle in.

Welcome to college life.

As I approached the door to leave, a sudden surge of numbness swept over my body, reminiscent of the unsettling sensation I had previously experienced back at home.

It rendered me motionless, an inexplicable paralysis seizing hold of me. What was causing this strange phenomenon? Could I have inadvertently come into contact with an electrified wire? But there was no wire in sight to account for such a reaction.

Questions raced through my mind as the enigmatic sensation enveloped me, leaving me bewildered and disoriented. My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a woman's voice that pierced through the fog of my startled thoughts, causing me to lose my balance. Luckily, I managed to clutch onto the door handle, averting a potentially embarrassing fall.

"Sorry," I whispered, hastily retreating from the office.

Confusion and unease gnawed at me. What on earth was happening to me?

I proceeded as instructed, entering the building and making my way upstairs. Arriving slightly ahead of schedule, I entered the classroom and was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of claustrophobia.

Why were there so many students gathered here? The sheer magnitude of the crowd sent shivers down my spine. I despised being surrounded by throngs of people; it was an incredibly uncomfortable experience. As I surveyed the scene, it became apparent that Chemistry 101 was a practical class. Each desk was equipped with scientific apparatus, and individuals in lab coats stood in pairs, engrossed in their tasks.

Yep, definitely practical.

Thankfully I was great at it.

"Excuse me, but we are about to commence the class," a voice called out, drawing my attention to an elderly man with slightly graying hair, whom I assumed to be the professor. My breathing quickened, anxiety bubbling to the surface as the realization of facing all these students washed over me.

Breathe, Red.

"I am here for the class, sir," I managed to utter, attempting to summon a semblance of confidence.

"In that case, why don't you introduce yourself briefly before we begin?" he interjected abruptly. Oh no.

"Um, sir, is it really necessary?" I began to protest, but he cut me off.

"We don't have all day, Miss," he retorted sharply, his tone laced with anger, leaving me feeling utterly defenseless.

With trepidation, I slowly made my way to the center of the room, my gaze fixated on the students who seemed largely disinterested in my impending introduction.

That's good.

"Hi, my name is Red Hathaway, and I am—" It didn't even reach seconds before they started their whispers.

"What a weird name."

"Her eyes are so green, it almost seems like contact lenses."

"Her hair is so obscure. I don't think I have ever seen so many curls on one head before."

"Her skin is so flawless."

"She is quite pretty."

The whispers, a strange amalgamation of compliments and observations, left me unsure whether to feel pleased or profoundly uncomfortable.

Throughout my life, people had often described my physical appearance as a work of art. Some girls in high school had even accused me of undergoing plastic surgery to achieve my distinctive features. I knew I stood out from the crowd, and it was this very dissimilarity that had subjected me to years of being
bullied

Crazy people, right?

A cough from the professor brought the room back to order, restoring a fleeting silence.

"That's enough," he declared, commanding attention once more.

"Miss Hathaway, why don't you take a seat over there?" I followed his gaze and noticed a group of boys fixated on me, their eyes filled with an unsettling hunger.

I am not a meal. Idiots.

"Miss Hathaway, since you're not dressed in the required uniform for this experiment, I suggest you observe today," the professor advised. As much as I longed to participate in the experiment, he was right about adhering to safety protocols. I hadn't even brought gloves with me, and that was the cardinal rule in a chemical laboratory.

"Yes, sir," I acquiesced, turning my attention to my new classmates, only to encounter a familiar face.

"We meet again, freshman." Urghh not this asshole.

"Yoh dude, you know this bitch?" Another ugly dude grinned.

Bitch.

"Not really; she saw me out on the block and couldn't help but stare," he smirked, his gaze fixed on me.

Excuse me?

“For real, man, you're lucky 'cause she could stare at me if she wants,” another one chimed in, offering me a flirtatious wink. It took all my self-control not to kick him where it hurt the most.

"She's like those whores trying to get some attention, playing hard to get, while all they need is a good fuck to put them in their place." All the boys started hooting, giving high fives to the bloody bastard that is about to pay for his insult.

I had reached my limit.

"Enough!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, ignoring the sound of breaking glass windows and lab apparatus in front of me.

"Who on earth are you people to judge me and think you know what I want? If you don't have anything useful to say, why don't you just fuck each o-"

Before I could finish my sentence, a collective gasp rippled through the room, interrupting my tirade. I turned to see their eyes fixated on me, wide with a mix of shock and awe.

"Oh my goodness, her eyes are glowing," someone whispered, their voice barely audible amidst the chaos. My heart skipped a beat. Glowing eyes? What on earth did they mean?

Sensing the impending mob, I knew I had to escape. Just as they were about to surround me, the shrill wail of the fire alarm pierced the air, accompanied by the deluge of sprinklers. It was chaos, but it was my chance to flee.

I pushed my way through the crowd, shoving aside anyone in my path, my heart pounding in my chest. I burst through the nearest exit, only to be met with a chaotic scene of students running in every direction. The crowd had grown outside, blocking any hope of escape.

I had no choice but to go deeper into the building, navigating the labyrinthine corridors with a sense of urgency. Panic gripped me as I frantically searched for an escape route. Finally, I spotted a staircase and climbed it with desperate haste.

As I ascended, my mind raced, trying to piece together what had just transpired. Glowing eyes? It seemed impossible, yet there was no denying what I had seen in their faces. Something was happening to me, something I couldn't comprehend.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I stumbled upon an empty classroom. Relief flooded through me as I rushed inside and locked the door behind me. I leaned against it, gasping for breath, trying to make sense of the bewildering events that had unfolded.

My mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, each one vying for my attention. The adrenaline coursing through my veins began to ebb, leaving behind a sense of exhaustion and disbelief. How had everything spiraled out of control so quickly?

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, hoping to find some answers or guidance amidst the chaos. But before I could even unlock the screen, the sound of approaching footsteps reverberated through the corridor outside the classroom. Fear clutched at my heart, and I held my breath, straining to listen.

The voices grew louder, their tone ominous and foreboding. "Did you see her?" man's voice questioned, filled with a mix of danger and anger. My anxiety intensified. Could they be looking for me? Who were they?

Another voice, tinged with frustration, interjected, "How can you not find her? She's the only one that ran this way." Panic surged through me. They were searching for me, but why?

"The boss won't like this," a third voice chimed in, thick with annoyance and apprehension. The mere mention of a boss sent shivers down my spine. Who was pulling the strings behind this mysterious operation?

"Hold on, we haven't checked that classroom yet," one of them suggested, his voice tinged with a glimmer of hope. It was a small glimmer, but it was enough to send my heart racing. Time was running out, and I needed to find a way to escape quickly.

I surveyed the classroom, my eyes darting from one corner to another, desperately seeking any means of concealment or an exit route. It was just another chemistry lab, filled with rows of tables and equipment. My gaze landed on the back of the room, where a row of desks stood against the wall.

Without a second thought, I sprinted towards the back, seeking refuge under one of the desks. I crouched down, my heart pounding in my chest, and prayed that my hiding place would go unnoticed. The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity as I strained to hear any sound that would reveal the presence of my pursuers.

And then it happened. The knocks on the door reverberated through the room, sending a jolt of terror coursing through my veins. My grip tightened on the edge of the desk, my knuckles turning white. The tension in the air escalated with each relentless pound against the door. Then suddenly I heard a huge impact being laid on the door.

Poor door.

"She must be here. Search the place. Those green eyes won't deceive me anymore," a voice declared, filled with determination and a touch of sadistic pleasure. My blood ran cold. Did he mean me?

Aunt May, I need you.

Silent tears streamed down my face, their presence a testament to the overwhelming despair that consumed me. My life can't just end. I haven't even repaid her for all she has done. In the midst of my anguish, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the stillness of the air. Panic surged through my veins, my senses heightened to a feverish pitch. Each footfall reverberated through the space, growing louder with every passing moment.

I held my breath, as if the mere act of withholding air could shield me from the impending threat. The sound of my own heartbeat thundered in my ears, a symphony of fear and desperation that mirrored the cadence of the approaching steps.

Oh God.

In the midst of the chaos, a voice broke through the cacophony, deep and commanding. "Hello, boys." The words hung in the air, momentarily halting the assault on the door. It was a voice filled with authority, a voice that demanded attention.

I peered out from under the desk, my eyes widening at the sight before me. A group of men in black suits, armed to the teeth, stood in the doorway. They exuded an air of menace, their presence sending a chill down my spine. But it was the man who had spoken, the one who had greeted them, that captured my attention.

"What a surprise," he said calmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. It was clear that he and the men in black knew each other, but the nature of their relationship remained a mystery to me.

"It seems she isn't here. Now, let's be serious. Let the girl go," the man continued, his words dripping with an underlying threat. There was a deadly edge to his voice, a warning that sent a shiver down my spine.

But the men in black remained undeterred. "Haha... You think that you are in your realm. This is the human world, where I have more power than you," one of them sneered, his voice laced with arrogance.

Realm? Human world? Power? The words echoed in my mind, but their meaning eluded me. What on earth were they talking about? And how did I fit into their twisted game?

"I know, but it doesn't change the fact that I will kick you and your men's asses." The man retorted, his voice resonating with a raw intensity, giving away his age—maybe early 40s.

"We will see about it." They were about to charge when I saw the man run away.

Thanks, man.

"Get him!" The command echoed through the air, and a cacophony of pounding footsteps erupted around me. I held my ground, waiting for the perfect moment to spring into action. The urgency of the situation heightened my senses, and I scanned my surroundings, ensuring that the coast was clear before making my move.

Just as I thought the danger had passed, a sudden force seized me from behind, a vice-like grip closing around my throat. The world spun around me as my body was slammed against a nearby table, the impact reverberating through my bones. Gasping for air, I struggled to breathe, but the relentless pressure on my windpipe made it nearly impossible.

A chilling smirk crept across the man's face as he studied me with his pitch-black eyes. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down my spine, and I felt a primal fear welling up inside me. His sinister presence was suffocating, his touch invasive as he invaded my personal space, his fingers grazing my hair before creeping towards my ears.

"Hello, little girl," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You have grown so much." The words sent a chill down my spine, fueling the terror that gripped my heart. I gasped for breath, my vocal cords straining against his unyielding grip, but his hold only tightened, pushing me to the brink of suffocation.

And then, his words turned even more sinister, as if plucking at the deepest recesses of my nightmares. "Your soul would be delicious, just like those of your parents," he murmured, his voice oozing with sadistic delight. The shock and horror of his statement jolted through me, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

What did he just say?

"No, stop!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the room, a desperate plea for help. And in that moment, as despair threatened to consume me, fate intervened. The man was suddenly propelled across the classroom, hurtling through the air before crashing to the floor, a testament to some unseen force that had come to my aid.

I didn't have the luxury to ponder the absurdity of the situation. With a surge of adrenaline, I snatched up my bag and bolted out of the classroom, my heart pounding in my chest. Prayers for safety reverberated in my mind as I sprinted through the halls, my footsteps echoing in tandem with the pounding of my heart.

Just as I thought I had escaped the clutches of danger, a firm grip closed around my arm, wrenching me to a halt.

He was here again.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, my voice laced with desperation. Tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the sweat of fear that coated my skin.

This was not how I expected my birthday to be.

But then, amidst the chaos, a voice familiar to me whispered urgently in my ear, momentarily halting my terror. "Keep quiet, Red, or we're done for," he cautioned, his hand covering my mouth to stifle any further outcry.

Wait, that wasn't him. It was someone else, someone unexpected. A glimmer of hope flickered within me as I tried to calm the turbulence raging within my chest. And in that moment, his touch transformed from a threat to a gesture of reassurance, his fingers gently brushing against my hair.

"Sleep," he murmured, his words a soothing lullaby amidst the chaos. Darkness encroached upon my vision, and I succumbed to its embrace, my consciousness slipping away into oblivion. Uncertainty and fear swirled within me, and as the abyss enveloped me, a single question echoed relentlessly in my mind:

What have I gotten myself into?

~~~~~~~~

|Hope you enjoyed the chapter |