𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒

Erudite

You should have known.

The date lurked in the back of your head but, due to certain recent events, they had been pushed even further back to the point where you had forgotten. You should not have forgotten.

The group assignment for English was due today.

Your eyes burned holes into the back of Oscar's orange head. He was leaning down in his desk, writing something furiously while taking surreptitious glances at the rest of the class. In one hand was the steaming pen, the other held a quarter-eaten apple. Seeing that your dark aura did not catch his attention - which it should have - you kicked his chair. When that didn't work, you sunk in your chair and kicked the back of his ankles, hard.

"Ow-uh." Oscar swivelled around to you. "What was that for?"

"Assignment. Today. Due. 50% of our English mark."

"Yeah?"

"Did you finish your part?"

"Pfft, of course I did," Oscar replied, "in my head."

"I will eat you alive and use your skull fragments as toothpicks."

"Wouldn't recommend it." He took a bite of his apple. "I taste like rotten mandarins. None of my alpacas would eat me if I was the last food left on the block. Not even Billy."

Sometimes you forgot Oscar's family had an alpaca farm. Billy was the oldest, largest, stinkiest, most aggressive and most ravenous out of the five alpacas you knew. He was Oscar's favourite.

"What are we going to do now?" you hissed. "We had three weeks. I finished my part last Sunday at home. You know, the day when you ditched me to fend for myself amongst the dead Karens."

Oscar shuddered. "In saying that, I would argue not all of them were Karens. Some were nice. Some were absolutely justified in their anger. Some were spilling all the gossip from five, fifty and five hundred years ago. You want to hear what Samantha did to Jeremy?"

"No." You dragged a sigh, massaging your forehead. "What do I do? Would they allow extensions on the day something is due?"

"Highly unlikely."

"What if I said my computer got a virus and corrupted the file? Or that Billy ate our final copy?"

"Do NOT bring Billy into your mess." His reply was muffled as he chewed.

"Then, I don't know! Maybe we should fight, break our bones, and get a medical certificate to excuse ourselves from the deadline?"

"Rather not."

"If you don't shut up, Ozzy, I will shove that apple down your throat and make you choke on your own blood."

"Cute. I've thought of worse ways to die. That's one of the tamest threats you've made, Y/N." His lips curled in a devilish smirk. "Losing your edge?"

Not breaking eye contact with him, you slightly pulled out the dagger in your pocket, the blade winked in the classroom's cold light. Your other hand slowly pulled your desk drawer and opened a hidden compartment, bringing into view a handgun, chicken wire and a spare Molotov cocktail. "Try me."

"Ooh, sexy." Oscar rubbed his palms. "When will you give them to me– I mean, let me borrow them?"

"Settle down, class." An authoritative voice called out from ahead - loud and clear, yet firm and controlled.

Everyone flurried back into their seats, groups breaking apart into different parts of the classroom and chatters muting to subdued whispers. Footsteps sounded from the front of the room, then there was a heavy thunk on the lectern, where a man you did not recognise cleared his throat. He grabbed the attention of all the students.