« I've got a really bad feeling, Victor. We should move, now. »
The sun beat down harshly over the school courtyard.
Victor stood in the middle of it, silent.
One ear tuned to Lucie, the other alert for the slightest sound.
His gaze slowly swept the area.
Lucie sighed and grabbed his arm abruptly.
« Hey! Are you even listening? We need to move, now! »
Victor's face tightened.
In an instant, he yanked her to the ground.
A chilling prick grazed the back of Lucie's neck.
She dropped to her knees, breath caught.
When she touched her neck, her hand came away wet.
She looked at her palm. It was red.
Blood. Her blood.
Her eyes shot up, confused.
Victor remained frozen, staring at something straight ahead.
She followed his gaze.
Her breath caught.
A black panther stood in the middle of the courtyard, barely ten meters away.
Its fur seemed to swallow the sunlight, leaving only a moving shadow, yellow eyes glowed with a near-human intelligence.
The panther sat calmly, licking its front paw, red liquid still dripping from its claws.
Lucie gave a nervous, half-smile.
«…My blood? »
Victor stayed focused.
His mind raced.
This animal was faster than anything they'd faced so far.
He inhaled slowly.
With a thought, he allocated his remaining five stat points to Perception, raising the total to thirty-two.
His senses sharpened, vision piercing, hearing razor-sharp.
« Draw its attention. »
Lucie shot him an exasperated look.
« You could've just said, 'risk your life.' »
She spun her axe and lunged.
The panther moved instantly.
A black streak.
Lucie teleported right, swinging blindly.
The beast leapt aside, its claws scratching the ground where she had stood a split second before.
Lucie reappeared further back, panting.
« Damn, it moves too fast—I can barely see it! »
« To your left! » Victor shouted.
Lucie pivoted, narrowly blocking a swipe from a paw.
The claws scraped her axe in a screeching grind.
« Above, now! »
She teleported just as a paw aimed for her skull, appearing behind the panther to strike its flank. A spray of crimson splashed onto the scorching asphalt.
The panther roared.
Victor continued guiding her, voice calm, detached.
« It's feinting. Right. Behind you. Left. »
Lucie followed instinctively.
The axe clashed, the sunlight reflecting off its already dulled edge.
Every strike was coordinated, Victor compensating her aim with precise, clipped instructions.
The duo moved like a perfectly tuned machine, despite having only fought together for two days.
Then the panther changed tactics.
It leapt toward Victor, as if recognizing the real threat.
He had only a moment to react.
Grabbing a nearby metal rod, he raised it.
The impact shook the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
Lucie appeared beside him.
« You got a plan, or are we dying together? »
« I have one. Be ready. »
A small, sly smile tugged at his lips.
« I'm always ready. »
The panther crouched, muscles coiled, eyes locked on them.
Victor knew what had to be done.
He didn't like it—but it was the only option.
He wasn't fast enough to fight it directly, and Lucie was already exhausted.
He planted his feet, arms ready.
As the beast charged, he didn't flinch.
His left arm went up, horizontal, right in front of his throat.
The panther's fangs sank to the bone in a sickening crack.
Victor's blood sprayed onto the concrete.
Victor gritted his teeth, silent.
He held the animal mere centimeters from his face, feeling its foul breath and searing heat against his skin.
« Lucie! »
« I know! »
She vanished, reappearing behind the panther.
Her axe struck once, opening the nape of its neck.
A second strike.
A third.
The final blow split its spine with a dull crack.
The beast collapsed, lifeless.
Silence returned, broken only by a distant crow's cry.
Lucie panted, covered in sweat and blood.
Victor exhaled slowly, his left arm hanging limply by his side.
« Seriously, did you have to take a hit like that? »
He gave her an impassive look.
« Someone had to hold it. It was the only way. »
Lucie let out a bitter laugh.
« Yeah… I thought you'd sacrifice me instead of yourself. »
Victor said nothing his teeth clenched against the pain.
Lucie caught her breath her shoulders trembling.
Her gaze softened on Victor.
He was still standing—well, almost.
His left arm hung uselessly, blood trickling in a thin stream across the floor.
His face had drained of color, his eyelids drooped.
« Hey… you okay? »
« ..Your guess? »
He took a step, then another, before his legs gave out.
Lucie lunged, catching him just in time.
« Hey! No, no, no! Not now! You're not pulling some dramatic hero crap to save the princess, huh?!»
Victor said nothing, but his expression conveyed enough.
Something like : Who's the princess here ?
She swore under her breath, quickly scanning the area.
« Damn… »
She draped his arm over her shoulder.
The weight bent her, but she gritted her teeth.
Blood already stained her fingers and jacket.
She hauled him across the courtyard, leaving a red trail behind.
Each step made her boots slide over the hot concrete.
Victor muttered softly, head heavy against her shoulder.
« Save your breath. »
She finally reached the glass doors of the main building.
This section housed the administration, principal's office, secretary, infirmary…
Lucie dragged Victor inside, into a shaded corridor.
She made him sit against the wall, exhausted, arms shaking.
His eyes were closed, breathing shallow but steady.
His arm dangled, blood pooling on the white tiles.
Lucie crouched, observing his impassive face even in unconsciousness.
Then she let out a nervous laugh, shaken from exhaustion.
« Seriously, you're really stupid. »
She resented him for taking such a risk, when maybe there was another way.
He hadn't even asked her opinion.
A bitter smile curved her lips as she rummaged through the building for anything to stop the bleeding.
**
The dark-haired boy was happy.
At least, he thought he was.
He wasn't sure what "happiness" truly felt like.
But he knew his mother was bringing him a gift.
It was the brightest moment in his miserable life.
He stayed perfectly still in the grimy corridor, wondering what it could be.
But even in his wildest dreams, he could never have guessed.
Soon, his mother returned, carrying a strange metal canister.
He wondered if this was his gift.
Some kind of fruit juice? Soda?
Her voice cut through the air, firm.
« Come. »
The boy followed, descending the crumbling stairs to his room.
Nothing had changed.
Concrete walls riddled with spider webs, a floor full of holes, a wooden stool missing a leg, and his bed—well, the thin scrap of fabric he laid on the floor, hoping it would make it less cold.
Strangely, he had never complained.
When you're used to something from a young age, without knowing anything else, you assume it's normal.
As he always assumed the blows he received were ordinary.
His mother pointed at the stool with a pale finger.
« Sit. »
The boy hesitated, a familiar bad feeling twisting in his stomach.
Fear tightened his chest; his breath quickened.
His heart threatened to burst.
He hated this sensation.
He would do anything to make it stop.
Anything.
But what could he do?
He was just a child, powerless to protect himself.
Even with a relatively clear mind, his subconscious reacted instinctively.
It was stronger than him.
« Don't waste my time, Victor. »
She reveled in seeing the child's reaction.
She could only imagine the mental pain she inflicted with this emotional rollercoaster.
And now… it was time for physical pain.
She drew a small knife, carefully hidden under her clothes.
A twisted, sick smile stretched across her hideous face.
Finally, she could relax.