The Power Seras

Chapter 6

(Warnings for audiences, will be deleted in the final draft. Mention of idiot carrot president man, mention of genocide, written visual of self-harm, written panic attack and cursing)

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December 15th, 2019, 3 PM

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Waking up, he found himself feeling refreshed from his peaceful nap. Who cared about the small nightmare that disturbed the sanctity of his slumber? It was perhaps the best sleep he's had in a while, despite the horrifying voices he heard in his pleasant dreams. Draven stretched as he yawned aloud, feeling something large and rigid behind him; groggily looking behind him, he saw that he was sitting on an uncomfortable, wooden chair that schools often buy. He looked around at his surroundings with surprise, not expecting to wake up to such a different setting than he was used to. Contrary to his belief before, he wasn't in his bedroom waking up to the sunlight, pouring from the window and gingerly kissing his cheek. He was instead in the waiting room of the office right in front of the Headmasters office. Janus was in the chair next to him, scrolling boringly through his phone, his legs crossed.
"'Democrats Charge Trump with Two Articles of Impeachment'? Fucking carrot looking ass." he murmured to himself having not noticed Draven, looking at the news headlines for the day. "Honeko Shoes releases new Honeko-Reebok shoes'? Oh, of course they would sell out. 'Prince of Death hits 16,000 deaths worldwide following the torturous death of Wesley Wimbledon and Angeline Dewott'? Fuck, when will they catch him?"
"Janus?" Draven asked him confusedly, rubbing his eyes to get the sand out. Surprised, Janus threw his phone in the air, fumbling to catch it. He glared at Draven, panicked and startled.
"What the fuck dude?!" He blurted out, holding his phone dearly to his chest. "That's not cool bro, you made me almost drop my phone!"
"Apologies Janus," he uttered under his breath, speaking up to be heard, "why am I here? Weren't we just at home?"
"What? What are you talking about?" Janus asked, his head tilted to the side. "You had another breakdown, remember? We were supposed to go here to show that new kid around? I think they're still waiting for you there actually!"
"So it wasn't a dream? I broke down in the bathroom?"
A confused look spanned Janus's face, "What? You never went to the bathroom, I found you freaking out on the chair about 'giving up' and some other stuff." He adjusted his posture on the seat, sitting properly now as he leaned towards Draven, looking at him nervously concerned. "Are you ok? You're doing this a lot more often nowadays, you know, forgetting about episodes? It's worrying me..."
Draven shook his head, waving the question away feverishly. "I'm fine Janus, it's nothing at all."
His expression of concern grew, looking at him with suspicion before turning away. "Alright, whatever you say, dude. I'll be here if you need to talk"
Draven sighed, looking towards the door. He could hear a faint conversation taking place behind the headmaster's door, but it wasn't decipherable without going closer. "Should I go in?" He asked himself aloud, "I don't want to interrupt them, wouldn't it be rude?"
"Just go in!" Janus cheered, a wide smile spanning ear to ear as he attempted to change the conversation tone to be joyous. "It'll be fine, nothing bad will happen!"
"But what if something bad does happen? What if I'll be expelled?!" Draven couldn't help but worry about what lay beyond that door; he worked so hard to get to Vivlio, if he couldn't continue his education, what was the point in anything anymore?
Janus shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "Draven, this is all just babble! Who gets expelled over interrupting a conversation?! Jeez, this is bad writing, bro!"
He thought about it briefly, eventually agreeing with his point. "So I should just go in?" he asked him, still nervous.
"Well damn, at least knock..." Janus grumbled, starting to focus his attention back to his phone.
He puffed up his chest, trying to give himself some self-confidence in himself, "Yes! I'll knock, and then go in!"
"Hell yeah! Complete that chapter in your life!"
Ignoring Janus's usual odd comment, he knocked before striding into the dragon's den.


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December 15th, 2019, 3:07 PM
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The office was lush with books among other sophisticated decors, giving it a grandiose and distinguished flavour. The illustrious chandeliers that hung from the ceiling lit up the room like a sunny day at the beach, the red mahogany lining the walls and the stained oak floor complimenting it well. Behind the desk was the headmaster, Ms. Lockwoode, commonly called 'Ms. Hardwood the MILF' by the more disrespectful students. She was a woman in her mid 40's with black greying hair that fell slightly below her shoulders, crows feet around her brown, wise eyes. Diploma's lined the wall behind her, consisting of doctorates in Communications and Sociology, as well as a masters in Psychology. She sat at her desk with a rigid posture, her hands on the desk as she chatted with an African-American man with honey-coloured skin. He was sitting on the couch, leaning back on it with no cares in the world. He was strangely skinny, his collarbone showing slightly in the position he was in; however, the assumed ruffle dust on the corner of his mouth indicated he may eat both sloppily and unhealthily. His squinty eyes were a beautiful stormy grey, which complemented his carefree smile and his freckled, rosy cheeks. An odd mix of blue and red were incorporated in his wavy hair, having put his hair in a messy ponytail. Was this person assumed to be Estia?
Draven felt as if he fucked up entering, did they even notice his entrance? It felt as if he truly entered the dragon's den, and they were getting ready to eat him alive, perhaps with some Szechuan sauce on the side.
Ms. Lockwoode looked towards the door, glaring at him, annoyed by his late arrival. "Hello Mr. Evinger," she stated with a steely tone, "why don't you have a seat? I've been expecting you."
Estia turned to see him, chucking up deuces at him as he smiled infectiously, moving to make more space for him on the couch. Draven hesitantly took a seat next to him, his palms getting sweaty as he looked at Ms. Lockwoode head-on. "Apologies for my late arrival ma'am," he sputtered, nervous as he lied about the hold-up. "We had to take a detour I'm afraid, a fight had broken out and the crowd watching held us up."
"'Us?' Who else did you bring along?" she asked him, watching his mannerisms curiously.
"Just my roommate ma'am," he shifted in his seat, anxiously coursing his fingers through each other. "he asked if he could come along since he has nothing else to do, so I said yes to him." What if she thought that he would barge in? While that would indeed be a Janus thing to do, he wouldn't darest do it now. This logic still daunted Draven, quickly sputtering out the context for his previous statement. "He won't be in this conversation by the way!" he exclaimed hurriedly, "He's just outside in the lobby, that's all"
"Good, good..." She leaned back in her seat, pointing at Estia. "Draven, meet Estia Suchimu Aterway. Estia, meet Draven Chay Evinger. Draven will be showing you around the campus."
Estia outstretched his hand, expecting a handshake. "Nice to meet you, bro," he exclaimed, a slight tinge of a rasp to his fruity, chilled voice. "I'm a music major, minoring in Art. You?"
While he's heard this introduction from freshmen frequently, he still wasn't used to being greeted upfront with another's choice of education. He kept the flow going however by hesitantly shaking Estia's hand, giving him his best smile. "I'm a medical student, minoring in psychology! It's lovely to meet you!"
"Medical student?" Estia curiously asked, "So you'll become a psychologist?"
Draven shook his head, not surprised he'd come to that conclusion as he promptly let go of his hand, at ease again. "Nope! I'm trying to work towards being a general physician, however, if that doesn't work out, I'm planning on going towards surgery or paediatrics."
"Good on you being the aspirational type!"
"I see you two are getting along," Ms. Lockwoode mused, "however you two can talk more when the tour is taking place." Her disturbing stare locked once more unto Draven, a chill going down his spine. "Estia, please wait for Draven in the waiting room. I need to chat with Draven for a second."
He nodded, getting up and leaving the room, the door slowly closing behind him. Draven grabbed a nearby pen from the coffee table, clicking it repeatedly to ease his anxiety at the moment. Why did she want to talk to him alone? He knew that this was to come when Ms. Harper said that he would show another student around, but what was happening currently eluded him. Was she giving him the low-down on how to show people around? "Is there something wrong ma'am?" He asked her curiously, "If this is about my sleep spells during class, I've been very stressed as of late."
She shook her head to his surprise, still staring right into his soul. "No, it's not about your sleep spells, however I do advise that you configure your sleep schedule to prevent such." She looked to the side, a hint of uneasiness evident in the air. "Would you mind rolling down your sleeves?"
He tilted his head to the side in curiosity, suspicious of her, "Why? Is there a specific reason?"
Her eyes shifted to the side briefly, tapping her mouth with her finger. "I just heard something from a colleague, that's all."
He recognized her actions to be clear tells for lying but thought nothing of it. Besides, all she'd see was red marker and healed scars from long ago on his arm. It would be concerning, absolutely, but there wouldn't be any worry over healed scars. He started rolling up his sleeve absent-mindedly, looking away as he did so. He heard her gasp, the tone akin to a feeling of dread. Confused, he looked directly at her. Her face was pale with horror, eyes locked onto his arm. He moved his gaze to his arm to share the same expression as her, horrified at what he saw. Unlike what he was expecting, he saw freshly made scars on his arm, the coagulated blood from most of them indicating that they were made recently.

"Miss!" he blurted out, "I swear, I thought it wou--"
She suddenly got out of her chair, grabbing a notebook and nervously scribbling in it.
"I haven't seen this in all my years, it sounded ridiculous when that person told me, but I knew to trust my gut this time!" Glancing over at him, she spoke softly towards him. "What drives you to hurt yourself like this? Are you ok?"
He felt himself spiral, feeling like everything was crumbling around him. His heartbeat was elevated and he was breathing rapidly. She was saying something to him, her tone sounding concerned, but he couldn't focus on what exactly was being told to him. Unanticipatedly, she started approaching him. He felt terrified, would she expel him? Would she suspend him from school? He had a perfect record and it would be a huge detriment if the perfect student was found with open scratch wounds on his arm. He sank more and more into the couch as she approached, her arm slowly reaching out for him. His heartbeat increased, feeling the constant thumping in his throat, his eyes locked on her figure.
"Mr. Evinger! Calm down!" She worriedly exclaimed, grabbing his exposed arm. Feeling a horrible sensation, he pulled his arm back, rolling up his sleeve.
"Don't touch me!" He shouted at her, tears welling up in his eyes. She attempted to pull his sleeve down again, still sounding concerned for him. He just wished he wasn't in this cursed office anymore, this was too stressful for him. He closed his eyes, trying to block the tears pouring down his face. He wanted out. He wanted to stop crying, he wanted to stop all of this. His body tensed and he felt the couch no longer under him anymore.
"What the fuck?!" Estia yelled out. As Draven opened his eyes, he saw he wasn't in the office anymore.

He was instead in the waiting room of the office right in front of the Headmasters office.