Shadow Things

XI

When Donovan McGuire and his cronies backed Hansel into a secluded corner of the school come Monday, Hansel allowed himself a moment of panic before he submitted himself to whatever misery was going to come. Donovan was not known for his mercy or kindness, he knew already; he had experienced exactly what came with his package once before. But what Hansel could not understand was where the small kernel of fear strobing inside him had come from. Why was he edging away from Donovan as though his life depended on it? How could Donovan scare him at all? Even Felix and his promise of daily cruelties did not affect him so.

Every time he looked at Donovan, Hansel was reminded of a manic beast unleashed from its cage, hulking above him with a ghastly smile that could rival Felix's. Perhaps, what he feared was the moment he would be ripped to shreds.

They were standing at the end of an empty corridor, every door on either side locked, leading to classrooms that have been out of use for years. Classes had ended a little while ago; there seemed to be no one around the place except for Hansel and his bullies.

When he had been backed all the way into a wall with nowhere to go, Hansel finally calmed himself down. He exhaled through his mouth. If you couldn't go over a problem or under it, the next best option was to go through it. He was going to stay still and let Donovan go through him.

Let him do his worst.

And do his worst, Donovan did.

"Does anyone remember what goody-two-shoes preached to us a while ago?" Donovan taunted, grabbing ahold of a handful of Hansel's feathery white hair. He put his mouth next to Hansel's ear and sang. "You said bullying was bad bad baaad, didn't you?" His breath was like the smoke in a furnace, hot and stifling, but Hansel was chilled, not warmed. He gave Hansel's hair a sharp tug, tipping his head backwards so he would have to meet Donovan's eyes. "Nothing to say for it now?"

Hansel swallowed. He started to back away, then realized, once more, that he had already run out of space.

"Every time you commit a sin you are making the shadows grow stronger," chimed one of the other boys in a high falsetto, paraphrasing Hansel's own words. "Every time you bully someone you are feeding the shadow that will kill you."

"Respected Master," mocked another. "Please do enlighten us with more of your otherworldly wisdom. These humble servants beseech thee."

"Yes, yes, Great Master. We have much to learn from you."

Laughter rang out in the empty space, echoing endlessly. To have his own words thrown back at him with such disdain, Hansel had never felt so small in his life before.

"You will teach us everything, won't you?" asked another. "How to become such an accomplished hypocrite like you. Because, as it stands, hypocrisy is a prerequisite for world domination."

"Ooooooh," cooed a boy with hairclips in his hair. "You are starting to sound rather wise too, Mata. Has Master Schwein managed to rub off on you, perhaps? What will happen to the world, now, with so much wisdom flying around?"

"Shut up," said Mata.

The hairclips boy chuckled.

"A hypocrite, you say?" asked Donovan, clutching Hansel's hair tighter, causing his scalp to tingle with pain. He bored Hansel with his raptor gaze, the scar above his eye—a crooked, white slash—twitching in anticipation of trouble; trouble he was going to rake up himself. "Could be fun, playing with a double-face like you."

Slanted sunlight seeped in through faraway windows, turning from pale orange to evening grey, but the corner the boys were gathered in was lightless, boxed in by the walls.