Crimson Heart

2

The next day, William trudged through the halls of his school, the echoes of laughter and chatter surrounding him like a whirlwind. Lunchtime arrived, and he found a quiet corner in the cafeteria, hoping to escape the judgmental stares of his classmates. He unwrapped his sandwich, the familiar smell of peanut butter and jelly mixing with the faint scent of cafeteria food. As he took a bite, he felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation; a small part of him was still reeling from the chaos of the day before.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. William looked up to see two bullies striding toward him, their smirks wide and malicious. He recognized them from the hallway—Jake and Marcus, notorious for making life difficult for anyone who dared to stand out.

Jake: "Well, well, if it isn't the freak."

Before William could react, Jake lunged forward, knocking his lunch plate out of his hands. The plate clattered to the ground, food splattering everywhere, the chaos of the cafeteria suddenly heightened by the laughter of nearby students.

Marcus: "Oops! Did we ruin your lunch? You should be more careful next time."

William's heart raced, fear flooding through him. He instinctively held out his hands in a futile attempt to shield himself. William: "Just leave me alone!"

But the words fell on deaf ears. Jake took a step closer, sneering as he readied himself to push William further. In that moment, something primal surged within him—an echo of the power he had felt in the cave. Without warning, a red orb of energy materialized from his left hand, pulsating with chaotic energy.

The orb shot forward, propelled by his panic and fear, striking Jake square in the chest. Time seemed to slow as Jake's eyes widened in shock, the energy bursting from William's hand sending him flying backward. He crashed into the trophy cabinet, glass shattering in a spectacular explosion, trophies raining down like confetti.

The cafeteria fell silent, the laughter replaced by gasps of disbelief. William stood frozen, heart pounding in his chest, a mix of horror and exhilaration coursing through him. He had never meant to hurt anyone—this was all too much.

Marcus: "What the hell just happened?!"

William's breath hitched as he realized the implications of what he had done. He could hardly comprehend the power that had erupted from him, a power he barely understood. As the reality of the situation settled in, he felt the eyes of his classmates on him, a mix of fear and awe. He stumbled backward, unsure of what to do next, his mind racing with thoughts of chaos and control, and the weight of the unknown that loomed before him.

Marcus, wide-eyed and furious, stormed toward William, fists clenched.

Marcus: "You're gonna pay for that, freak!"

His voice was thick with rage, his footsteps heavy as he closed the distance. Panic seized William again, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't know how to control what had just happened—he barely understood it. All he knew was that Marcus wasn't stopping.

As Marcus swung a fist toward him, William instinctively raised his hands in defense, trying to block the attack. But once again, that chaotic energy surged through him. A red pulse erupted from his palms, swirling with erratic intensity and enveloping Marcus before he could make contact.

In an instant, Marcus's body froze mid-motion, his fist inches away from William's face. A crackling noise filled the air as a red glow spread across Marcus's skin, hardening into a dull, stony surface. William watched in horror as Marcus's body turned to solid stone, petrified in place—his face locked in a twisted grimace of rage.

The cafeteria erupted into pandemonium. Students screamed, backing away from the scene. Some pulled out their phones, recording the event, while others stood paralyzed, unsure of what they had just witnessed.

William, trembling, stared at Marcus's frozen form. 

William (to himself): "What... what have I done?"

His hands shook, the remnants of the red energy flickering at his fingertips. The power had acted on its own—he had acted without thought, driven by fear. He didn't want this. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

His mind raced, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily in his gut. William knew now that whatever power had awakened inside him was dangerous. The whispers, the crown, the red energy... it was all tied to something bigger than him. Something he couldn't yet understand.

The sound of footsteps echoed from behind him as a teacher rushed into the cafeteria, their expression one of shock and confusion.

Teacher: "Everyone stay back!"

The teacher's eyes darted to Marcus's petrified form, then to William. 

Teacher: "William... what have you done?"

But William couldn't respond. He couldn't even think straight. His breath came in short, panicked bursts as he stumbled away from the scene, turning toward the exit. He needed to get out of there. Away from the stares, the judgment.

He bolted from the cafeteria, his mind spinning.

In a dimly lit room, a woman with long, flowing lavender hair and an air of effortless confidence leaned back in her chair. Her sharp eyes, lined with a hint of dark eyeliner, flickered with interest as she watched the footage playing on the screen in front of her. The screen showed the incident that had unfolded in the school cafeteria—the red energy, turned to stone bully, and William's panicked escape.

Her lips curled into a faint smile, amused by the display of untamed power. Dressed in a sleek black-and-white outfit that hugged her figure, her gloved fingers tapped lightly on the desk as if in contemplation. She radiated an air of casual dominance, her presence commanding yet deceptively gentle.

A shorter girl, wearing a purple jacket over her slender frame, leaned against the wall nearby, blowing a bubble with her gum. Her eyes were half-lidded, but there was an unmistakable sharpness to her gaze.

Shorter Girl: "What do you think, Kafka?" 

The girl asked lazily as the bubble popped. She looked over at the woman, curiosity dancing on her face.

The woman—Kafka—tilted her head slightly, her eyes never leaving the screen. A soft, amused laugh escaped her lips, her voice dripping with a casual, almost playful tone.

Kafka (in her casual seductive tone): "I think he's perfect."

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with interest, fingers pausing on the screen where William had summoned the orb of chaos. 

Kafka (smiling faintly): "He's got potential... just needs a little guidance."

The girl in purple smirked, her gum snapping between her teeth as she nodded.

Shorter Girl: "Looks like things are about to get interesting."