CH.17 Fury and Terror

"What do you guys want?" Calvin asked, as five or six towering brutes rose beside Tyler—his loyal lackeys.

"Idiot, playing dumb with me now?" Tyler sneered. "You scared the hell out of me before, huh? Where'd you get the balls for that? A couple of days ago, I just shoved that Tommy guy around, but I didn't realize it then. The next day, when he dared show up at school, that's when I knew you bastards were behind it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about—this has nothing to do with me," Calvin said. "So that's why you tricked me into coming? Sorry to disappoint, but I only heard about your ghost encounter from someone else."

"So... you're saying there really are ghosts?" Tyler stared at him.

"I think so. You were probably just unlucky."

"Hahaha, ghosts? Hahaha!" Tyler burst into laughter, then roared, "You think you're funny, messing with me? You're dead!"

The crowd around him chuckled along at first, but silenced instantly at Tyler's bellow.

Tyler strode up to Calvin, towering over him at more than six feet six inches—a full head taller.

"Look at you now," Tyler jabbed a finger at Calvin's hair. "Oh, like some loner gamer nerd."

He circled Calvin, taunting as he went: "Wearing a hoodie thinking it makes you cool? Face like a pretty boy—where were you hiding earlier? Sneaking off to play mobile games? Haha, what a loser, too chicken to drink. Bet you're the type who heads home right on time every day, mommy's good little boy."

Tyler got more animated with each word, then clapped his hands. "Right—you and your fake videos. What for? To get famous and snag some girls? Too bad, trash stays trash. I was going to let you hang out with us, but you dared scare me? You really had the nerve—now I'll show everyone what you losers are really made of."

"Oh, so what do you want?" Calvin eyed him and asked.

"Pretty good at acting, huh? Pretending you're all calm and not scared?" Tyler leaned in close. "We're gonna use you as our party's grand finale entertainment. In a bit, we'll toss you in the pool—or string you up like a decoration. Punching bag works too. See that suitcase? We'll stuff you in there later, use you as a soccer ball or a chair. If we feel like smoking, you'll be our ashtray. Night's young—we're not sure how long we'll play."

"You talk a lot. Can I go now? I need to catch the bus home and rest," Calvin checked his phone—it was past ten.

"You messing with me? Let me repeat it—you're not leaving," Tyler's face twisted menacingly, like he was about to strike.

"Then I'll repeat myself too," Calvin said. "You talk way too much."

Tyler went silent. The room went silent. Some people stealthily pulled out phones to record, eager for Calvin's impending humiliation.

"By the way, you didn't drink tonight, right?" Tyler said. "This booze is pricey—not drinking's a waste. Here, try a bottle!"

Tyler grabbed a rum bottle and swung it at Calvin's head.

Smash! The bottle shattered, and everyone winced— but not from Calvin's bloodied skull. Instead, Calvin had punched through the bottle, his fist halting just before Tyler's nose.

"Gross," Calvin muttered. Now drenched in alcohol, he'd have to hand-wash his clothes later and hide them from his family—tough to explain.

Now, Calvin was getting pissed.

"You..." Tyler's booze-fogged brain froze. He stared at the fist that nearly decked him, staggering back.

"Let me tell you something—you're all stupid and rotten," Calvin retracted his fist.

"Damn it—get him!" Tyler yelled.

His goons charged like a football blitz, aiming to flatten Calvin.

Calvin felt his body—exhausted but empowered by the mask's transformation—unfazed.

As the first rushed in, Calvin kicked him flying. Another swung a chair; Calvin snatched it mid-air and smashed it back on him. A third lunged—Calvin grabbed and shoved him into Tyler, toppling them both.

In under ten seconds, four lay sprawled. And Calvin hadn't even tapped his real ace: the enhanced white flames. They were nothing.

The remaining two hesitated, while the gawking crowd froze, their breath held, phones capturing it all coldly.

"Let me explain it to you," Calvin squatted before the still-grounded Tyler. "Whether you smoke, drink, or bully—it's all the same. You're just a hateful idiot who talks too damn much." With that, Calvin turned—he didn't want to waste another second here.

Tyler sat stunned; it happened too fast for him to process. He glanced around at the classmates who'd come to watch him dominate Calvin, as well as the "fun" peers he'd invited. Some eyed Calvin, others stared at Tyler—their looks seemed to mock his pathetic state, with phones recording. By tomorrow, he'd be the school's joke.

"Calvin! What the hell was that trick?" Tyler mustered a shout, but Calvin didn't turn.

Emboldened by the lack of response, Tyler pressed: "You—you bastard, I won't let you off! My dad's loaded, I know gang guys—some with guns. I'll have your head blown off!"

Calvin ignored the clown behind him; he just wanted home, no mood to even curse back.

"You won't last in school after this—I'm telling you, you're done!" Tyler ranted, losing it. "Don't show your face around me—I'll beat you every time I see you. And I hear you got a sister, right? Maybe I should scare her a bit..."

At that, Calvin halted at the door, back to the crowd. If anyone faced him, they'd recoil in terror: his pupils surged with furious white flames, as if ready to incinerate the entire villa.

As Tyler geared up for more threats, Calvin whirled and strode back.

"You—you what? I'm warning you, my dad's rich—he can get you expelled!" Tyler blustered.

"Clench your teeth," Calvin advised.

"What?" Tyler blinked—then Calvin's fist cracked his jaw.

Tyler hit the ground, brain mushy. But Calvin didn't stop; he rained down punches.

"Stop! You know the consequences..." A blow—Tyler's nose gushed blood.

"You asshole..." Another—Tyler felt a tooth loosen.

"I'll pay you—compensation!" Another—Tyler's face swelled.

"I'm sorry—please, let me go!" Tyler's tears streamed, his ducts battered.

Calvin paused, leaning to Tyler's ear, voice loud enough for all: "Stay out of my sight from now on—or I'll beat you every time."

Calvin shook off the blood and tears from his fist, then turned and left.

Under the crowd's terrified stares.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"What the hell just happened?" Lucas leaned against the wall. Many classmates bolted after Calvin left, while Tyler slunk to the bathroom alone. Lucas also left, heading to a deserted alley for a smoke in the dark. He still couldn't believe it—Calvin, the class loner, had morphed into something superhuman. That strength, powers? Had to be, or how else?

Worse, Lucas had betrayed Calvin. Seeing Tyler's wreck, he knew he was screwed—couldn't face school—time to transfer.

"Damn it," Lucas muttered, unsure who he cursed. He fished a cigarette pack from his pocket, needing a drag before fleeing.

As his lighter flared, the sight before him chilled him to the bone.

A monstrosity—like flesh stitched together—loomed, a crimson eye bulging from its head, fixated on him.

"Monster..." Before Lucas could scream, its palm slammed him against the wall, knocking him out cold.

Glancing at Lucas, the creature ignored him—it wasn't finishing him yet. Summoned with orders, it had priorities.

Find Tyler first.

Now, it tracked the scent swiftly—it was starving.