Beginnings; Extreme Measures

After taking the ninth vial, an overwhelming surge of strength and certainty washed over me. I didn’t need to test it—no human, not even Randy, could defeat me now. My instincts confirmed my newfound invincibility. With a determined expression, I headed to school to finish what I had started.

“Hey, what’s going on with you lately? Why have you been picking fights with Randy on purpose?” Collins asked, his voice laced with concern as he feared Randy’s notorious retaliation.

I said nothing, my focus fixed entirely on the impending confrontation.

“You’re scaring me, man. Whatever’s happening, please stop. We only have one year left—let’s just endure until then,” he pleaded to me out of fear of the bullies. But something had to be done!

“I won’t stop until he apologizes on his knees,” I replied, my resolve unshakable.

“Who are you talking about? Randy? You know that’s impossible. You’re just going to make things worse for all of us!”

“I guess we’ll see about that,”

Upon arriving in class, I immediately made my way toward Randy’s group. They sat together, their faces marked with remnants of pain from our recent battles—their sides plastered with pain-relief patches.

“Look, he’s coming over here again! I’m tired of this, man!” Justin blurted out, panic evident in his tone.

Randy’s gang shared his sentiment. They had been fighting me non-stop for a week and were all worn out and bruised. Meanwhile, I found myself recovering faster after each challenge.

“Not today, okay?” Randy snapped, exasperation edging his words. “I’m not in the mood to fight!”

“Since when do you ever get too tired to bully others? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of getting your ass beaten by some weakling like me!”

At that moment, Randy’s expression twisted into something monstrous. I had planned to humiliate him in front of the entire class, and as everyone’s attention shifted toward us, curiosity buzzed in the air.

Randy rose from his chair and, from his pocket, pulled a knife—this time coming prepared for my inexplicable surge in strength.

“A knife?” I scoffed, my fear now completely replaced by confidence.

Randy lunged with a flurry of strikes, but I evaded each attack effortlessly. My speed and power had grown immensely. I grabbed his wrist, twisted hard, and forced him to his knees as he screamed in pain. All eyes were fixed on us, astonished to see the mighty bully reduced to a trembling figure.

“Time to end this. Apologize for everything you’ve done to me and to the others,” I demanded, my tone cold and resolute as I tightened my grip.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please—let me go!” he sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

Before anyone could react further, the vice principal stormed in along with the class representative, who had dashed off to seek help when Randy had brandished the knife. The fight was halted, and everyone involved was summoned to the office. Soon, other victims of Randy’s bullying came forward, and evidence of his torment surfaced. Randy was expelled, and his life took a drastic downturn.

For years, fear had gripped our school because of Randy. I even became popular for taking him down—but the satisfaction I’d expected never materialized.

Even after defeating my arch enemy, I persisted with my rigorous training, running five kilometers daily to keep my stamina. Soon, however, I learned that while peace can sometimes be acquired, sustaining it is an entirely different battle.

One morning after a run, I returned home only to sense that something was off. My sister and mother, who were always busy preparing breakfast, were nowhere to be found. After searching the farm frantically, I went down to my father’s basement—only to discover a horror: my mother tied up and gagged, while Randy held a knife against Angela’s throat. Despite the intensity of the situation, my heart remained calm, and I knew I had to act carefully to save my family.

“At this rate, we’re going to grow on each other. What do you think you’re doing, man?” I said evenly, addressing him.

“You tell me,” he retorted, in a low calm tone

I inched closer.

“Don’t move, or I’ll slit her throat!” he warned, his eyes dark with seriousness. “You see... something’s been bothering me for a long time. No one can get that strong so fast. I had to figure out how a weakling coward like you suddenly got this powerful. I even paid your friend Collins a visit earlier today. He said you’ve been holed up in some basement at your house. I had to check it out for myself. What kind of training have you been doing?”

“It’s over—you’ve done enough. Put down that knife, and maybe I’ll let you go with your jaw intact!” I shot back.

“Still cocky in this situation, I see. You’ve ruined my life! A nobody like you couldn’t have done all this without help. Tell me, what drugs are you taking?” His grip on the knife tightened dangerously.

I wanted to move to disarm him, but I wasn’t sure if I was fast enough.

“I’ve got nothing to lose!” Randy said nonchalantly. “And when I’m done with you, remember this—everything that happens here will be your fault.”

He reached for a jar of water beside him, poured some into a cup on the table, and drank it.

“No!” I screamed, realizing he had used the same cup from which I had taken my serum.

“What?! I can’t even get a glass of water in peace? Relax—we’re just getting started. I’m going to take my time making you suffer... over and over again,” he declared before he began to cough violently. His reaction mirrored the one I’d experienced the first time I had taken the serum.

“What... urrgh... what have you done to me?” he sputtered before collapsing unconscious onto the floor.

I rushed to untie my mother, and she immediately called the police. They arrived promptly, cuffed Randy, and took him to the hospital.

I kept quiet about what might have caused his sudden collapse—after all, he’d only drunk from the cup. After giving our statements to the police, we returned home. It seemed as though trauma had become the Silver family’s new norm.

Six hours later, Randy awoke in the hospital, restrained.

“We can’t draw his blood. Something’s not right here—who is this kid?” a nurse questioned.

“He’s awake!” another nurse exclaimed as a team of medical personnel rushed in, intrigued by the unusual case.

“Hey, kid! Can you hear me? What’s your name?” a doctor inquired.

“Where am I? Let me out of here!” Randy demanded.

“We can’t do that—you’re in the hospital. How are you feeling?” another voice responded.

A police officer entered and approached, beginning the formal process: “Mr. Randy Clayman, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of the Silver family. You have the right to remain silent—anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”

“Are you saying they’re alive?” Randy interrupted, a mix of anger and disbelief in his voice.

“Yes. The family is alive. You’ve traumatized them, but with help and time, they will recover,” the officer replied before Randy, fueled by rage, suddenly broke free of his restraints with a single flex of his muscles. In a flash, he crushed the officer’s head in one brutal blow, filling the room with blood and leaving everyone frozen in shock.

“That bastard! It was the water! He’s going to pay now!” Randy roared.

After a long moment of silence and disbelief from all who witnessed the incident, Randy strode to the door and left. Outside, he paused, looked up at the sky, and took a deep breath before assuming a sprint stance. In a blur of motion, he raced straight to my house.

Approaching sonic speed, within mere moments he arrived, crashing through the front door and walls with the force of an explosion. Splintered fragments of the destroyed door whirled toward my mother and sister. In that instant, I realized I could only be fast enough to save one of them.

We were having dinner when everything changed. The chaos was too much to bear; my mind struggled to come to terms with the unfolding events.

I felt as if I were drowning in my own thoughts, fighting to accept the harsh reality. I couldn’t deny what was happening. Angela was closest to me—I threw myself in front of her to shield her from the oncoming debris. I saw shards of wood nearly striking my mother. Desperation flared within me, and as my body burned with a need to exceed its limits, an unfamiliar energy surged through me. My eyes glowed blue; my vessels burned; my muscles blazed. I moved as fast as I could toward her, yet one shard had already found its mark. Holding her in my arms, I felt her life slipping away.

That was the moment I realized I had lost a fight before it even began.