1 Prologue

They were a pleasure to kill.

Well, they were already dead to begin with.

But I am a spiteful person.....a very spiteful man.

....

It was a radiant Friday morning. The windows of our lecture hall were wide open and streams of sunlight filtered through them. The students surrounding me were all talking quietly, while Mrs. Lyles quietly, but meticulously wrote on the board about Biomedical Engineering and explained it. Though I was bored, there was no one willing to talk to me nor me to them, so I stared out the white-washed windows quietly while pulling up my black hoodie some more to cover up more of my bruises and the words written on my face.

Looking out the window I found myself reminiscing about what happened and how I came to this situation. Was it my fault, theirs, or just what the world had dealt out for me? No, no, obviously it was theirs.

I'm not a bad looking dude or a bad student and even considered good-looking and a great student , or well.....was. I'm still six foot one, have dark-brown hair and light-green eyes, I still have blemish-less skin, but with freckles.

The difference is my hair used to have luster, now it does not.

My eyes used to shine brightly, now they do not.

I used to stand tall and proud to my full height, now I don't.

My skin used to be firm on my muscles, now I look gaunt and skeletal.

My grades used to mean something to me, now they don't.

But let me remember the cause, not the effect.

Both my parents died when I was young, my dad in a car crash when I was eight and my mom from breast cancer when I was fourteen. After that I lived with my grandma, Delilah.

She was a kind and tough old lady, but old age waits for no one. I still remember the conversations we would have whenever she told me to be prepared when she died.

During my first year of college was when it happened. She was eighty-two already and had a stroke and died. I had always imagined that she would go peacefully in her sleep, but maybe it was my luck that had infected her, because the world seems to despise me.

The day after my lovely grandma died, I found my formerly dearly beloved girlfriend, Lillie Spurling, cheating on me with Ray Jorydn, a now former friend of mine at her apartment when I went to go and tell her the news of my grandma dying. I screamed at them with everything I had, it all came out like a typhoon. They didn't seem to care much though as they never stopped f*cking as I was talking to them.

That's just the beginning though, around three weeks later, that b*tch calls me to tell me that she wants me back and that she accidentally got pregnant with Ray's child. I immediately shut that idea down and told her to stay the f*ck away from me.

But the very next day I start to hear whispers about me and Lillie and how I must have raped her after we broke up and left her pregnant.

I was then called to the principal's office to explain what happened, but my explanation meant sh*t to him. And he kept on telling me to admit my guilt and just get a lighter sentence.

The cops were called and I was kept at the station for a week until the **** kit results came back proving my innocence.

I thought that would mean sh*t, but I guess not.

From the day that I came back onward, I was now labeled as a rapist. It was written on my desk, written on my stuff, written on my clothes, and written on my body, all...in...sharpie. A person might wonder, hey..why didn't you fight back? But the cruel truth is that I did, but you know what I got in return?

The beatings! From the day I fought back onwards, groups of boys and girls alike would join together in harmony to beat me into submission before writing those ....cruel words and lies on me, or just to beat the sh*t out of me for fun!

And the teachers, but of course they did nothing, they couldn't even hide the disdain in their eyes whenever they looked at me.

But, that was manageable, I had bigger things to worry about.

Getting a job to pay for my rent by myself.

It would have been child's play to get a decent paying job or internship before the accusations, but now whenever my interviewers looked at my name they would see: Accused of ****.

I found it extremely hard to get a job and the one I managed to get was at an old dilapidated McDonald's that paid seven dollars an hour. But once again, as a college student I have classes and around two hours a day to spare at most and fourteen dollars a day isn't going to pay for my food and rent.

A person looking at my life may wonder, what about your grandma's and parents inheritance?

Well, my parent's inheritance went into supplementing my grandma's Social Security Check due to her being to old to work and the little she had saved away went into that d*mnable accusation of **** as some sort of penalty from the school for a crime I didn't f*cking commit.

And I also have to pay my tuition so as a result my grades fell dramatically. My teachers already grew a negative impression of me after that d*mn accusation, but after my grades started to fall it turned into full on bullying.

Instead of asking me what was wrong, I over heard them saying stuff like I was doing drugs because of how lethargic I looked at school. As a result the teachers started to ignore me whenever I had a question and lower my grades for all my quizzes and tests.

This all happened a couple of months ago so I'm still only 19, and that's my life now.

I come to school only to fail my classes and get beaten and made fun of, come home to my run-down looking apartment, sleep for like three hours, and then haul *ss to McDonald's.

*sigh*

I continue looking out the window while pouring out my grievances in my mind. But then I notice something unusual. Outside of the school gate, I notice a medium size lady in a black velvet female business suit stained with her own slightly nasty looking dark-red blood walking towards out school with a slight limp.

"Maybe she's injured and doesn't have her phone with her", I conclude in my mind.

She staggers forward determinedly, but there seems like there is something more wrong with her than just her injury, the contrast between her rigid movements, but lack of urgency made me confused.

"It seems as if she's badly injured but why doesn't she just call out now to save some trouble", I whisper under my breath.

She's about 3 feet from the black iron gate, but she doesn't stop walking, she continues forward and runs into it. This seems to have made her confused as she takes a couple steps back and tries again, then again, and again, ...then again and again and again and again...vile dark-red blood spurting out of the wound on her side and pooling at her feet.

I start to feel seriously creeped out and start to turn away, but out of the corner of my eye I see the custodian, Mr. Greene, start to approach her. This draws my attention in once again as I want to see the confrontation between Mr. Greene and the probably drunk and injured business suit lady.

Mr. Greene asks her a question that I can't fully hear and when he doesn't get a response other than some more bashing herself against the gate, he come closer to her slowly, and cautiously. Mr. Greene tries again to talk to her, but gets no result. Once he sees that she is not going to respond he tentatively gets even closer and tries to grab her thin arm.

But with a speed I did think that she or any person should be capable of, grabs him instead and slams him against the gate. The strength behind that slam was unimaginable for a normal human as the gate was growling in protest, almost contorting out of its hinges in the process of grabbing him.

But then...the thing's head turns at an unimaginable angle and manages to bite off part of Mr. Greene's shoulder.

I can see scarlet red blooding flying everywhere out of his wound and I scream with every fiber of my being, but Mr. Greene's scream was even louder.