Fundamental Survival

Killer's Sympathy

After escaping the school, Mutasim had returned to his home, begging and pleading to his foster carers not to be sent back there. He told them what happened, how he was hunted down, chased and actually tortured. But the adults refused to listen, whether it was disbelief in him or simply they couldn't care, Mutasim had no idea. They took to punishing him and locked him in the basement of the house. 

But Fundamental High didn't take kindly to loose ends. In order to keep up their prestigious appearance, Mutasim would need to be disposed of. And Miss Circle was the best one to commit such an act. The giant teacher strolls down the street, keeping an eye out for the boy's home address. There was some part of her that admired Mutasim. Not many could successfully escape the school when being hunted down, even less could survive the monstrosity lurking in the school walls. She felt it was a shame to kill the boy, but she had no other choice. 

After wandering the streets awhile longer, she finally locates the house and approaches the front door. Using her right hand, she knocks on the door. It opened almost immediately with a balding man holding what looked like a martini, complete with what appeared to be a pale olive. 

Man: Hello there. What can I do for you? 

Miss Circle: I'm here to see my student, Mutasim. Is he home? 

Man: Oh him? Yeah, he's home. Should I bring him outside or...?

Miss Circle: I'd prefer to see him indoors. 

He nods and moves aside, allowing Miss Circle entry. Upon entering the residence, the first thing she laid eyes on was a metal heavily barred door under the staircase. The man approached it and unlocked the door with a keycard, adding to Miss Circle's confusion. With the door open, Miss Circle passed through and went down the steps. Once she reached the bottom, lights flickered on, allowing her to see the basement and the lone figure crouched in the corner. 

The figure was trembling and their back was turned to her. A small trail of blood led from the person to her feet, showing whoever it was, was injured. And judging from the bleeding shoulder, Miss Circle already knew this was the student she was looking for. It was a sorry sight, pitiful even. She taps her compass on the ground, revealing the blade end and walks over to the crying boy. 

She stood beside him and kept her gaze on him, almost feeling sorry for him. Blood continued to drip from his shoulder, but also from his face which made the teacher more confused. From what she could remember, Mutasim suffered no injuries to his face. What she saw next, brought back horrible memories to her. 

Mutasim, sensing someone behind him, turned his head and looked up while covering the right side of his face, which bled. A lot. Although Miss Circle couldn't see, she recognised the sight in front of her, as if she was staring at herself. 

Man: Go on then. He's a weak little shit. Couldn't even last a day in Fundamental High. Better off dead if you ask me. 

His words struck Miss Circle in her black heart. She turned her head to look at the older male, seeing that the olive in his drink was actually one of Mutasim's eyes. Driven by a sense of rage and supressed memories, the woman lunged at the man and beat him to death with the sides of her compass. She didn't even bother with the blade. The man screamed in agony and pleaded for mercy. In the end, he received none. His face was a shattered mess. His skull fractured in various places, bits of bone and brain matter were scattered around the floor and blood stained the ground and walls. Finishing off, she picked up the corpse and tore its head off with her mouth, chewing it into tiny pieces before swallowing it. 

After making a meal of the foster father, Miss Circle turned to the terrified boy, her expression softening as she does so. She kneels beside the boy despite him huddling away from her, hugging himself and hiding his face. It was rare for Miss Circle to feel compassion for anyone besides her colleagues. But the boy in front of her reminded her so much of herself in her younger years. 

Ignoring his fear, she picks him up with one arm and carries him out of the basement and out of the house. Thanks to Mutasim cuddling himself up into a ball, it made it a lot easier to carry him. As Miss Circle takes him away, she rests her chin on his head, talking to him smoothly, hoping to sooth his nerves. Though considering the trauma he's been forced to endure for one day, her words would do no good to him. 

At least not for now. All Miss Circle could do was try to make amends and to give him a second chance...