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violetnerves · 3 months ago

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The Rise and Fall of Jenny Hopkins, aged 15 - Chapter 4, Part 1: Under Pressure.

Well this is embarrassing. It's been awhile, life happened and I also procrastinated. But I've got it done so here you go!

A bit of a slow chapter, it's mainly set up for part 2 besides the introduction to some of the original female characters meant to expand the female cast since there were very few girls at the Academy in the original game.

Word Count: 8,284

Some Content warnings that may apply:

-Jenny's got a bit of a case of internalized misogyny. I sorta hinted at it in earlier chapters but I tried to make it apparent here.

-Some foul language. I think I might've been too frivolous with it here, though considering the first chapter had the c-word in it I guess that's to be expected at this point.

I'll admit, I had a pretty nice day with Gary yesterday. Yeah, I didn't think I'd admit that to myself either, but I really did. Since I'm basically talking to myself, it's fine if I do. Not like anybody else is ever gonna read this.

Well… unless my dream of becoming a successful rockstar ends up panning out, and I decide to publish this diary, claiming it as my autobiography that I totally didn't just put out as an easy money grab. That isn't like me at all, I don't even like money that much!

Anyway, enough lying off my ass, I'm sure you're wondering what Gary and I got up to.

After we left Burgers right after Gary called me… pretty… he talked me into stealing a bike with him, and we rode through Old Bullworth Vale, specifically the neighborhood where all the Preps lived. It was some weirdly laid out cul-de-sac, rather than some kind of gated community like I would've expected. Many of the houses did have a large metal fence and gate surrounding them though, with Tad Spencer's even having an extra fence just to enclose the garage.

Gary pointed out Derby, Tad's and Pinky's house, as well as Petey's house since he apparently lived in the area too. For some reason he felt the need to point out how Petey's house was only one story, and how the only reason they lived there was because Pete's mom is an obese whale who'd fall through the floor of any building higher than ground level. I had to wonder what that kid even did to Gary to make him feel the need to insult him all the time, even when he wasn't around, and if Pete was even aware of the reason.

“So, where's your house then?” I asked out of curiosity, just casually peddling beside Gary on the side of the road as we made our way to Bullworth Town. “I noticed you didn't point it out, do you live out of town or are you from a different state and just familiar with the area from attending the Academy for so long?”

Gary didn't answer my question immediately, despite staring at me the entire time.

It was really starting to annoy me. It was bad enough that he felt the need to call me pretty (If he hadn't bought me lunch, I probably would've slugged him in the face right after he'd said it.) but now with the staring?

“Gary, could you quit staring at me like that? It's weirding me out.”

The guy looked like he'd been caught red-handed committing a crime, his eyes widening as we stopped by the entrance to the park not too far from the fast food place we'd eaten at earlier. He tried to give a response, eyes darting around as he clearly didn't have a good explanation, and only managed to blurt out:

“I wasn't staring at you.”

I rolled my eyes, instead changing the subject back to asking where he lived.

“So? Where do you actually live?” I asked once more, my tone a bit bitchier than I intended it to come out. Understandable given his behavior.

Just… God, why did he have to call me pretty? That's the last thing I ever wanted to be. I didn't want to look attractive to anyone, that would make me more of a target than I already was just for being born a girl at all.

I bet ugly guys don't have to deal with bullcrap like this. Dammit, why couldn't I have just been born a dude!

Then again, I guess it could be worse. He could've said something stupid like, oh I don't know, I love you or something. I didn't trust anyone except my mother to say that to me… even though I really couldn't remember the last time my mother had told me she loved me…

Whatever.

If Gary really had said that to me, I would've ditched him at Burgers and probably ditched school altogether.

I knew I could never, ever trust a man to say he loved me and actually mean it without some kind of catch.

It wasn't completely impossible for me to avoid going back to the Academy anyway, I'd once ran away from home for about a month and a half about two years ago in a really really dumb attempt to find my biological father. During that time, I'd taught myself how to drive, drank my first beer, and even realized that I was a little bit of a dyke. Good times.

Gary's demeanor flipped like a switch, and suddenly that nervousness from earlier was gone. He'd gone back to his usual confident self, it was almost like he hadn't been nervous at all.

How the hell did he even do that? First Gary's angry then chill the next second, then he's nervous and now he seems like he has everything under control? Man, I wish I could do that, maybe I'd be considered less of a bitch.

“Oh, me? My place is out of town and pretty isolated, it's about 30 miles North of Bullworth. Not really walking or biking distance. It's a manor, way bigger than Derby's mansion too… You know, I could invite you over sometime…” Gary said, leaning on his (stolen) bike in what I can only describe as… seductive… yet weirdly pitiful. Like he was trying to charm me, except he didn't seem confident about it. It kind of reminded me of Pete a little, though only the latter part. Pete was only charming in a pitiful way, like a kitten with a cold.

“I'm good, thanks,” I replied.

I expected Gary to try and push the topic, but he thankfully took the hint. Instead we headed into this place called ��Old Bullworth Gardens” for a bit. It was just some park, there wasn't even any sort of garden around at all. Why even call it a garden if there wasn't anything besides trees around?

Gary got the idea of practicing my aim more with the slingshot by hiding in a tree and slinging pebbles at random passerby. I went through with it, because the idea sounded funny.

And you know what? It was.

He’d point out someone, and I'd aim at them and shoot. Didn’t matter if it was some old lady or a guy wearing shorts 2 sizes too small for him going out on a late mid-day run: either way, they got the gift of a pebble getting launched at their head. I tried to avoid hitting anyone in the eyes, but that was about it. It's not like a little pebble could kill anyone after all… It's a bit stupid to die from getting hit by a pebble.

…

Gary stood behind the tree I was in, letting out a quiet chuckle with every hit I managed to get.

Now that I think about it, describing his laughter as a chuckle didn't seem right, it was more comparable to a giggle. It was boyish and sweet, and it caught me off guard hearing it come out of the mouth of a guy like Gary. Especially since all I was doing was beaming people in the head with small pebbles. Maybe I was missing something, could it be something else that was causing it?

Maybe not, Gary was a bit of a weirdo. I knew that from the first time I'd ever spoken to him.

I wasn't exaggerating when I said Gary's weird giggling caught me off guard. A guy with crutches and a cast on his leg wobbled by, and, to my surprise, I accidentally released the slingshot’s flimsy rubber band. Instead of hitting the guy with the crutches, it hit a nearby wasp nest in a tree about a few feet away from the one I was in. The nest fell, and unfortunately for the couple having a picnic right underneath that same tree, it landed right between the two of them.

Gary's giggling turned into full on hysterical laughter as the couple screamed in terror and fled the gardens, trailed by a swarm of angry wasps.

Unfortunately, Gary's loud ass laugh got the attention of a nearby cop.

“Hey! What are you two doing out of school?! Don't think for a second about acting stupid, I see those uniforms!”

Gary seemingly didn't think twice about making a run for it without helping me out of the tree, but truthfully? I hardly blamed him.

I would've done the same thing really. A dick move, sure, but not one that I wouldn’t have done.

I scrambled down the tree and barely avoided the officer grabbing me as I sprinted off in the same direction as Gary, the cop still on my ass. As I shoved my slingshot back in my bag, I was stumped on how to get this guy off me… until I remembered something.

Behind the junk bus, just before I smashed its windows in, I spotted a plastic bag of marbles and shoved them in my purse as a keepsake. I wasn't sure why they were there, maybe some other student had dropped the bag or just stashed them there for who knows what reason.

I undid the tie on the bag and tossed it behind me without looking back, hearing the contents rattle out on the gravel crosswalk loudly. Next thing I heard was the even louder sound of a body hitting concrete, followed by a string of agonized curses. I didn't look back, but I still ended up barely holding back a laugh.

Just my luck, I actually ended up losing track of Gary. I briefly wondered if he and Davis were in the same Track team or something as I decided to run down toward the beach as the sun began to set on the horizon, turning the ocean from its natural blue color to a warm, saturated orange.

Looking at the water, I almost felt the temptation to dive in for some reason. It was stupid, I mean, it was October, and it was the beginning of Fall, the water was freezing… besides, I didn't even like swimming that much.

…Didn't help that one-piece swimsuits typically made for girls my size tended to be pretty ugly… and there was no way I was ever swimming in a bikini…

I stood at the top of the steps at the entrance to the beach, and as I made my way down to the sandbank below, I felt an odd sense of apprehension come over me. I looked around, but besides some of the townsfolk walking around town clearly minding their own business, there wasn't anything or anyone around that could've been the cause of the weird feeling.

Shaking my head, I stepped onto the beach and walked right, my gaze fixated on the light house.

I’d… never seen one of those so close up before. It seemed to be abandoned, the light at the very top unlit and the mechanism that made it spin wasn’t on either. Underneath it was a small building, connected to the main pier with a ramp leading up to what I assumed was the entrance to the place.

I’ll admit, I got a bit curious. Before I could actually satiate that curiosity however, I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind. One hand was on my mouth, while the other had a firm grip on my right shoulder.

I didn't waste any time reacting, slamming my elbow into whoever was grabbing me. He grunted, I could tell it was a guy from how deep the sound of it was. Before he could do anything I whipped around and grabbed his throat.

I didn't apply any pressure though… because I realized it was Gary. Even though my hands were wrapped firmly around his throat, the motherfucker was grinning. He let out this throaty, mild and short chuckle as he stared at me with his head lifted up.

My hands left his throat and I stared at him completely baffled. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

Scratch that, I should've been asking a different question, something along the lines of what wasn't wrong with this guy. That would've been easier to answer…

…Like… I dunno, his tooth gap was kind of cute? I guess?

…

…Maybe seeing the school counselor wasn’t such a bad idea from Crabblesnitch after all. Seriously Jenny-girl, what the fuck is wrong with you? What the actual fuck? First you date a guy 5 years older than you back in 7th grade that ended up stabbing his aunt with a sharpened candy cane on the 4th of July, and now this shit?

You seriously need to get better taste in men.

Gary let out that weird giggle again, and I switched from being baffled to being pissed off.

“What’s so funny you moron? What were you thinking?!”

He kept chuckling, and I seriously considered actually strangling him when he finally spoke. What he said next only reinforced the thought.

“Awww… Did I scare you Jane? I was just trying to be funny, didn't think you'd try to strangle me like that. A bit of a psychotic response don't you think?” he spoke, smirking briefly with a short ‘heh’ before continuing, “Anyway… you wanna watch the sunset with me? I saw you looking at it beforehand so…”

What the hell was-

…

…Oh what the Hell, I was just repeating myself at this point.

It's like his constant weird behavior was tiring me out. Just one thing right after the other. None of it was enough to make me leave, instead, I found myself tolerating it.

For what reason? I didn't know, still don't.

So what did I do?

“...Sure Gary…”

I watched the sunset with him. Yes, seriously. It was pretty nice actually, he didn't even do anything weird for the rest of the day afterwards… Thankfully.

Aside from a comment he made about the sunset reminding him of my eyes. I rolled my eyes at that, giving him a firm and final “whatever.”

By the time we were ready to go, it was past curfew, so Gary and I headed back to the school. The Prefects that were patrolling around the school grounds for curfew dodgers were hardly an issue, not noticing as we slipped through a huge hole in the outer fence wall…

…Which we could've gone through earlier rather than hopping the fence…

Why didn’t we go through there earlier? I didn’t think to ask at the time since… well I was tired as hell at that point from all the action and Gary in general and just didn’t think about it at the time. I figure I should ask Gary about it later, but knowing me, I'll probably forget to do it. It's not like it's that much of a big deal anyways.

I did learn something new from Gary before we split up to go back to our respective Dorms for the night. The front doors of the dorms were locked up after curfew, so entering from there wasn't an option. Instead, there was a window that led straight into the attic of the girl's dorm, which for whatever reason was never closed. Aside from having to climb a lattice wall covered in overgrown vines just to get up to the window, I didn't have any issue sneaking back into the dorm, and back into my room.

No, I don't know why Gary knows about that entrance. Again… I was too tired to ask. To be honest, I don’t remember much else from that night, safe to say I was pretty checked out by that point. Weirdly, the last thing I remember that night before passing out was the sound of somebody puking their guts out, coming from the area where the bathroom was. Not sure what was up with that.

I woke up still wearing my school uniform. I even still had that origami flower Gary tied to my hair, which I'd figured would have fallen out with how loose I'd tied it, but apparently not.

Trisha was the one who woke me up by the way, not because she wanted to be annoying, but because if she hadn’t, I would’ve been late for class otherwise. Pretty cool of her, but I still ended up giving her shit for it anyway because I'm an absolute bitch with a capital b in the morning. Next chance I get I should probably apologize… If I remember to do it.

Didn't help that she asked about the flower, wondering where I'd gotten it and why I was wearing it in my hair. I practically ripped it out and shoved it into my section of the closet.

Despite all that, I think I was starting to tolerate Trisha at this point. It helps that she’s only mildly annoying, and not on purpose. Trisha's just… like that. Trisha doesn't go out of her way to be a dick, unlike pretty much everybody in this God forsaken school. Namely this one brunette - Mandy I think her name was? - who tripped Trisha on her way out of the Dormitory. I helped the fallen girl up and yelled at the girl in the cheerleader outfit, but Mandy just laughed and walked off. What a friggin bitch.

Trisha thanked me and we parted ways, and that was that.

I barely made it in time for Biology. It was… normal I guess? I already knew the teacher's name was Dr. Slaughter, and boy did his personality certainly match his name. He complimented me on my delicate knife work, but instead of feeling pretty good about the praise, it just weirded me out. I feel like he and that creepy janitor I've seen around campus who mumbles a lot hide dead bodies together after school.

I just so happened to be partnered up with Eunice for the whole thing, but she wasn't much help. She was pretty sensitive about seeing the frog's innards, and the most I could get her to do was pass the tools I needed and label the drawings of the organs on the sheet we were given. We did chat for a bit, mainly about the other girls at the school. Turns out Eunice was a bit of a gossip with a little bit of nudging.

I did get some info on the more prominent girls around the campus, since Gary neglected to actually fill me in on any of them earlier.

First of all, there was Marian Abbott, the Head Girl. Her family was British, but she was born in America so that meant pretty much nothing really. She's basically an American. She was in her senior year and admitted that she was aiming to go to Harvard, which Eunice thought was pretty believable given how seriously she took her studies… along with the fact that her dad was a billionaire who could easily afford the tuition. She didn't go out of her way to talk to people, but that didn't matter since people would go out of their way to talk to her. She was also technically a part of the Jocks clique since she was Head of the swim team, but there was another girl in the clique who was far more important than her.

Mandy Wyles, the head cheerleader. Why was she so important? Besides the fact that she was the head cheerleader? It was because her boyfriend, Ted Thompson, was the Captain of Bullworth's football team. Yeah, her popularity was solely because of a man, a boy really. That was what gave her status. She was otherwise a vapid bully, and constantly had her eyes on the Greasers clique leader rather than her actual boyfriend. She ruled the Girl's dorm with an iron fist, since she pretty much had Mrs. Peabody wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. If a girl did something she personally didn't approve of or inconvenienced her in some way, she'd go crying to Peabody about it and the old hag would go out of her way to find something to punish the offending girl for.

Hearing that, I thought back to what Dr. Lamb said about Mrs. Peabody looking after the girls. Was she lying about that or delusional? I'd believe that second one, seems like a lot of people in this place have their heads up their asses or something, it'd explain everybody's crappy mood.

Heh.

Oh, and she apparently has an eating disorder or something like that, and she hid it by throwing up in either the Girl’s Dorms or gym bathrooms late at night or whenever there wasn’t anyone around. I guess that explained the puking I'd heard from the night before. Personally, I don’t think it could’ve happened to a nicer girl.

I’m sure if I said that aloud, you’d be able to hear the condescension in my tone.

Then there was Lola Lombardi, the top girl of the Greasers. Two guesses as to why that is.

That's right, It's because she's dating the leader of the Greasers, Johnny Vincent. Granted, she does have a bit of a girl posse going on with some of the other Greaser's girlfriends. Their little sub-group is pretty identical to their male counterparts, but a lot more subtle when it comes to their harassment, mainly because of Mrs. Peabody. Apparently Lola really, really hated any girl that admitted to wanting to hook up with her boyfriend. It probably would've been understandable, if it wasn't for the fact that Lola herself was a serial cheater. Every year since they'd first gotten together, Lola would cheat on Johnny with multiple guys, and her little gang would try to cover it up and make sure Johnny didn't find out about it. Except they must've been pretty bad at doing it, since Johnny would always end up finding out about his girlfriend playing hot potato with her and another dude's lips at least once, and it'd end pretty badly for whatever guy was smoochin’ Lola. Last year, one of those stupid and unlucky boys even ended up in a 3 month coma, but when the cops tried asking him how it happened and who did it, the kid couldn't even remember who had beaten him up to begin with, so Johnny and his boys got off scott free.

Oh, and despite the Greasers and Preps being rivals with one another, Lola has issues with Mandy Wyles rather than the main Prep girl, Pinky Gauthier. Mandy's been pretty upfront with wanting to get together with Johnny for a long time, but because of how close she is with Mrs. Peabody, Lola and her crew basically can't touch her, nevermind breathe the same air.

Speaking of Pinky, she's the main Prep girl. She's… pretty unremarkable. According to Eunice, she's not even mean to anyone, at least in comparison to the others at the Academy; At worst, she complains a lot and loudly about her ridiculously young step-mother, either because the other womans been borrowing her clothes or makeup or whatever without asking; apparently the last complaint was about the step-mom taking her limited edition Nintendogs metallic rose colored Nintendo DS. Initially, it seemed like she was pretty inoffensive, I thought I could’ve found some common ground with her by complaining about the annoying things my mom does… then I remembered she was dating her cousin, Derby Harrington. I dunno if I'd even want to associate with somebody like that.

While Pinky was the most prominent and popular girl of the Preps, there was another significant girl to be aware of.

Annette Caldwell.

Annette, as far as what Eunice has told me, is a ticking time bomb. She acts like she's all calm and collected, but if you were to wrong her in some way you'd never hear the end of it, at least these days. In the past, she used to be just kind of two-faced, speaking kindly of people only to talk shit about them behind their back; A coward basically.

But then her family started getting into financial trouble, the kind you couldn't easily get out of. Recently she's been trying to get Derby to date her, in what Eunice assumed was a way to get her family some financial security. Not that Annette getting with Derby was any better than him dating his cousin, because Annette was also his cousin; The rich of Bullworth seemed to be real connected with each other, which made me wonder why the Harrington's weren't already helping the Caldwell's out of their financial woes.

By the day, it seemed like she's been getting worse and worse, and I'm pretty sure it was her I'd heard yelling at the top of her lungs at someone from halfway across the main school building yesterday.

Could've just been some random girl, but the voice sounded like it belonged to some high-class snooty teenage girl that was having a mental breakdown, so I just assumed.

At the very bottom of relevancy was Beatrice Trudeau, main girl of the Nerds. I was sort of familiar with her… though, mainly her smell. I'm pretty sure I'd hurried past her on my way to Biology this morning, and that was enough to make me dislike her immediately. Seriously, has that girl ever heard of deodorant?

She was probably one of the few Nerds that actually seemed to care about her future beyond swearing that they'll be their bullies boss someday. She could often be found in the library after school like the rest of the nerds, but rather than playing Grottos and Gremlins, she'd have her face shoved in some kind of book along with a few of the other Nerd girls she got along with.

Even though I probably didn't really need the info, I ended up asking Eunice about Trisha and what her whole deal was. Mainly how she was even in the Bullies clique in the first place. Sure, Trent was her brother and that probably answered my question, but it still seemed strange that somebody like Russell would just allow her in given her… quirks...

Well, I was sort of right, but it was a bit more complicated.

See, Trisha Northwick considered herself… a witch. Seriously, she was 100% convinced she was some kind of magic girl in some book she liked, though she was pretty inconsistent about how her magic worked. Last year she got in trouble for taking all the salt from the cafeteria kitchen along with a shit ton of glitter from the art room and spreading it in a ring around the Boy's Dorm at 3 in the morning. When she got caught, she claimed that she was trying to cleanse the demons and evil spirits out of the Dorm, only to be told by Crabblesnitch that there weren't any demons in the Dorm, only the male students. She then tried arguing that the demons were obviously separate beings from the students that lived there, but that the salt circle would probably do them some good anyway by cleansing their souls and making them act nicer.

I kinda figured Trisha had a few screws loose, but this was something else. At least it seemed like her delusions were meant to be helpful, if still bafflingly ridiculous.

As for the whole Russell thing? Well, he was convinced of her whole witch delusion, and the only reason she was in his clique was because Trent told him that if he didn't let her join, Trisha would get upset and put a curse on him. It was kind of screwed up actually, Russell was obviously “slow”, and you could probably make the argument that the two were taking advantage of that.

Not that I cared really. That huge idiot gave me a bloody nose on my first day here, could've broken it too with how hard he'd hit me, so why should I be concerned with a nutcase and her bully of a brother taking advantage of his retardation?

Yeah, that's right. It's none of my damn business.

Plus, actually trying to do something to make the students around here act less like assholes, even if it is utterly delusional and wouldn't have actually worked, isn't a completely terrible idea. Obviously, though, there were… better ways to go about it.

Did I know of any specific one? Not really, but I assumed there was. Best I could think of doing was smacking anybody harassing me for something stupid. Gary probably had some ideas though.

After biology was lunch, but rather than stop by the lunchroom to get a whiff of whatever unholy dish that ogre was cooking up, I instead went straight towards the school counselor's office. I was told I could either visit during lunch or after the second class was over, and since I really just wanted to get this over with I decided lunch would be fine.

As of now, I’m sitting by Dr. Lamb’s office door with this dumb diary in hand, more or less stalling; My pen rolling in between my fingers as I press the tip to the paper, jotting down one last sentence.

Just get it over with Jen.

***

I shut the diary loudly and stuffed it back into my purse along with my pen. Usually I would've kept the holy grail of all my secrets and insecurities and secret insecurities somewhere more private than my purse, like burying it in the closet, but I didn't fully trust Trisha not to snoop around and find it. It was nothing personal, truthfully I'd do the same thing with pretty much any girl in this school. I’ve gotten my diary stolen before back at the third school I'd attended, the one in San Andreas.

Admittedly, the only reason it even happened was because I'd brought it to school in the first place, but since just leaving it at home wasn't an option here, keeping it in my purse was arguably safer; Especially since nowadays I could just beat up anybody stupid enough to run off with my bag.

My hand met the stainless steel door handle into Dr. Lamb's office and opened it, peeking inside to see her typing at her computer. She noticed me and waved with a warm smile.

“Oh! Hello Jane, nice of you to drop by!” Dr. Lamb said, her voice a bit weary. It didn't match her appearance, which was noticeably better than yesterday. I swear, it was like she'd gotten done having some kind of mental breakdown right before catching Gary and I jumping the fence. I'd ask, but I figured she'd ignore me or change the topic. It's what my mom would do, well, actually, mom tended to get mad more often than the other two, but Dr. Lamb didn't seem like that type of person.

I scanned the room itself. It was pretty boring, the only sense of Dr. Lamb’s touch seemed to be mostly restricted to her desk.

“Yeah, I kinda just wanted to get this over with. Gives me an excuse to skip lunch too,” I said, sitting in one of the office chairs set not too far from the front of her desk. I let my purse dangle on one of the chairs’ arms. I Continued with, “So, how are ya doing?”

Dr. Lamb gave me a look of concern.

“You mean you haven't eaten anything today? Did you at least eat something for breakfast?”

“Nothing besides a Beam cola. I'm not really interested in getting food poisoning on my first week of school.”

She sighed, in a way that sounded like she understood the terrible state of the food in the cafeteria but was still disappointed that I'd choose going hungry over just risking it and eating whatever looked the most edible thing on the menu.

“Well I can't just let you go hungry. Hold on, let me just get this out,” before I could tell her it was fine and that I was used to going hungry, she was already rummaging through her desk.

Dr. Lamb ducked down in her chair and I heard a drawer from behind her desk being opened up. As she rummaged through from wherever, I noticed the photo frames on her desk. She had a good number of photos but one stood out to me for whatever reason.

It was Dr. Lamb with a butch looking woman and a young girl, probably kindergarten age. The three were at some kind of beach, and the butch woman and Lamb were building a sandcastle with the girl, who I could guess was probably Dr. Lamb's daughter with how similar they looked.

My focus left the pictures and went back to Dr. Lamb, who set a fairly large black canvas lunch bag on her desk. She unzipped the top, and it turned out to have several baggies full of what appeared to be sandwiches wrapped up in napkins.

“I've noticed that a lot of the students around here seem to avoid eating the food in the cafeteria, so I figured I'd get permission to have the students in my afternoon Home Economics class make these sandwiches as a warmup while I get their assignment ready and hand them out. They're basically just PB and J sandwiches with banana slices in them, though I did make sure to include a few that's just jelly and banana, for the students that have a peanut allergy. Feel free to take one!”

My gaze shifted from the bag back to Dr. Lamb, and for some reason I couldn't help but to think back to what Gary had said about her.

"I mean, Lamb just seems like she's hiding something to me. She's a new hire, and I feel like she's just putting on this act of being all sweet and kind until she reveals who she really is…”

It's not like I hadn't been screwed over by a “nice” teacher before. I was still going to be careful, but I was kind of hungry, so…

“Thanks ma'am,” I replied, taking one of the bags and unwrapping the sandwich inside of it. Sure enough, it was just a plain, white bread PBJ, one of the banana slices peeking out between the two bread slices. Not like I was expecting anything spectacular, “It's better than nothing.”

Dr. Lamb smiled and zipped the bag up, putting it back where she'd pulled it out.

“Yes, it's far better than skipping a meal. Listen Jenny, that’s not the kind of habit you want to repeat, it could lead to an eating disorder. Teen girls around your age are particularly susceptible to developing them.”

“So I've heard,” I said. It's not like I was at risk of it. I just needed to cut back on the Beam colas, which I could do at any time. Y'know, if I ever felt like it.

Which wasn't anytime soon I don't think. Didn't mean I had a problem though obviously.

“I'm serious Jane,” Dr. Lamb replied, her tone sounding more like a stern parent than her usual soft spoken way of talking. Which didn't seem too out of place oddly enough, “Just try and eat the most edible thing on the menu, at least until after Halloween when they finally let you students roam the town.”

I groaned. I wasn't gonna be too mean, but I knew I had to be blunt.

“Listen, Lamb, there's nothin’ edible comin’ out of that lunchroom. It's like the food's being made by a lunch lady that's deliberately tryin’ to poison people. And given the amount of kids I've seen runnin’ out of the lunchroom just to puke their guts out in the garbage cans out in the hallway cause the ones in the lunchroom are occupied? She's doin’ a great job. Seriously, I think that Edna woman needs to be fired. Her cooking could probably be considered a war crime.”

Dr. Lamb gave me a look that outright said, ‘You're right, but you shouldn't say it,’ which meant she was definitely gonna get on my case about saying it in the first place.

Except she didn't. She changed the topic instead, and somehow that ended up being worse than her reprimanding me for just being honest.

“So I'd like to talk about what happened yesterday…”

“What the fight or Gary and I skipping school?”

“About - Waitaminute w-what fight?”

Shit, did I just tell on myself? I guess that explains why I hadn’t gotten called in for it. I guess getting beat up for the second time in a row by the new girl on her second day left them too embarrassed to say anything about it. Since I've already blabbed and it could get that asshole Davis into trouble, I decided to just tell her. It’d whittle their number down a bit more… Or I could get in trouble again…

“Uh, yeah. That Davis White kid shot a pebble at me and lured me into the Shop class area where the rest of his buddies were, and so I had to beat the crap out of them again. They did it cause they were mad about Trent and Russell getting in trouble.”

“Oh for fu-BUCK’S sake.”

I kinda just stared at the blonde woman as Lamb held her head in her hands, pressing her thin hands into her face. She mumbled up a storm and the few bits I could make out among the jumbled mess of words were: “Second day” “2 months” and “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph”. I wondered briefly if I should interrupt but figured that, with how run ragged she seemed to be yesterday, this school's craziness was starting to get to her. Gary had said she was new, and that was pretty obvious when compared to the other faculty who were either just another part of the school's madness or completely numb to it.

It'd be terrible to see that kind of thing happen to her, even if what Gary said about her was true.

The blonde woman grumbled a bit more before scratching her head and glancing at me again.

“I-it's fine… Though I will have to inform Dr. Crabblesnitch of this… But what I actually meant to talk about was the other incident. Concerning you and Gary hopping the main gate.”

I already figured that one was coming.

“Yes ma'am? What about it? I thought it was kinda weird how I didn’t get called into the office for it, figured you would've told Crabblesnitch by now. I wouldn't even really blame you for doing it, protocol and all that nonsense,” I said, finally opening up the bagged PBJ I'd been offered to dig into.

“I did, at least as soon as I could do it. I actually did it this morning.”

I raised an eyebrow at that.

“This morning?” I said, the surprise in my tone apparent, “You mean you didn’t do it right after you caught us?”

She shook her head.

“No, I'd planned on it but I kept running into distractions throughout the day. It was my turn to patrol the school grounds along with Mr. Galloway, but unfortunately he seemed to be preoccupied with… something else… so it was just me and one of the Prefects at the time. It's why I was out there to see you two climbing the gate. It was just one thing after another; I needed to attend my afternoon Home Economics class. One boy shoved a firecracker down another boy's pants during shop class and it triggered the shop class teacher's PTSD. A fight broke out in front of the Boy's Dorm…” The blonde’s eyes unconsciously landed on me, and I had to hold back an eye roll so she wouldn't notice. “Again…” Lamb just kept going and going with all the stuff that went down while Gary and I were out on the town yesterday, and I briefly wondered if stuff like this happened on the regular. Did the school board or whoever was in charge of monitoring schools know about any of it?

Eventually Dr. Lamb got to the point, “I did catch you two going back to the school grounds later on in the day on my way home, but I still made sure to inform Dr. Crabblesnitch of the incident this morning...”

“Wait, if you told him then how come I wasn't called up to the office for it?” I replied with a mouthful of PBJ.

“Because he had already been informed of the incident by Gary.”

I blinked, swallowing the bit of sandwich I had so I could ask clearly. But I found it a bit hard to speak. Gary had said something? He'd admitted it? I mean, I guess he'd have to since we'd been caught but I hadn't taken him for being such a casual snitch.

Given we seemingly hadn't gotten in trouble for it though… maybe he'd had the right idea.

“Gary admitted it?” I asked, as if for some reason I needed to confirm what Dr. Lamb just told me barely a second ago, “What exactly did he tell Dr. Crabblesnitch then besides that? Because, well, I don't take the Headmaster as somebody who would let something as serious as leaving campus without telling anybody very lightly…”

“Oh he took it quite well actually. Gary had approached him earlier in the morning right as he left his car. Gary’s reasoning for it was because he got a little impatient and since you were new, he'd wanted to just show you around town before they finally opened up the gates after Halloween. I'd assume since Gary is the current Head Boy and meant well enough, Dr. Crabblesnitch decided to let it go, especially since there hadn't been any incidents reported by the police as a result of you two. He told me he let Gary off with a warning and wanted me to tell you the same.”

I guess that means I'm off the hook and that the cop I'd tripped up with marbles hadn’t bothered to report us either… Or he’d hit his head hard enough on the pavement to forget about it entirely. Either way, it meant I wasn't gonna get in trouble for once, so I was fine with brushing it off entirely and keeping my mouth shut about that.

“Alright then. I actually wasn’t fully ok with the idea of leaving campus to be honest. I only went along with it cause I didn’t want to eat lunch in the cafeteria.”

Dr. Lamb smiled and responded with:

“Ok, just don't do it again. If you really do get hungry, then please don't hesitate to just ask me for a sandwich. At the end of the day I usually end up having extras anyway.”

“Yeah… Sure, I'll remember to ask,” I replied. My eyes shifted over to the wall clock, but unfortunately I still had about 15 minutes before the bell rang and I could finally get outta here. Why can't the hours fly by when you want them to?

“Jenny?”

My attention focused back on Dr. Lamb.

“Yes ma'am?”

“I'd like to just ask something. On your first day, when Trent and his friends were trying to take money from you, you know you could've-”

Ugh, here we go.

“Could've what? Run off to find faculty or a prefect instead of hitting Trent? I ran to the office right after anyway, the Bullies decided to escalate things, not me. I actually gave him a warning before I actually got physical too! He decided to ignore it,” I knew exactly where Lamb had been going with her sentence because I'd heard the same thing a million times, from men and women of all kinds. From the people that were supposed to stop this kind of crap before it happened. It's bullshit, it's always been grade A bullshit. I didn't want to think Gary was right about her, but this definitely wasn't helping.

Hey God! If you're real, why do you keep pulling this stuff on me? Give me a friggin’ break! What the hell did I ever do to you anyway?

Lamb frowned, and her response felt the same as my rant about the lunchroom from earlier, except this time I was the one who decided to change the topic.

My thoughts went back to the framed photo on her desk, and curiosity got a hold of me.

“Who's that woman in the photo with you and your daughter? Is that a family friend or something?”

She looked at the photo as well.

“Oh her? That’s my girl-” Dr.Lamb suddenly stammered a bit, seemingly correcting herself, “R-roommate! She’s my roommate. W-we co-parent.”

A few awkward minutes passed before I nodded and said:

“Whatever you say ma'am,” I told her with a bored tone in my voice.

I figured that was the only way to sort of brush off the fact that I actually knew what she meant. It was clearly a secret she wanted to keep to herself, I guess to keep her job, which was a reason I could understand. Not sure why she even wanted to work at Bullworth though, given its reputation. Maybe it was the only work she could get?

But even if she was a jerk, I don’t think I'd tell anybody about it, even out of spite.

Mercifully, the bell finally rang and with only a wave I left the room.

Not exactly polite, but I wasn’t in the mood to stay around.

As I made my way out into the hallway of the second floor, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, Jenny!”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice, and it turned out to be Pete, walking over to me with what looked like a book bag slung over his shoulder. As he got a bit closer I noticed his hair was slightly damp, like he’d taken a shower recently. Either that, or he’d been on the receiving end of a swirly. Gary mentioned that happening to Pete a lot.

“Hey Pete, what up?” I replied back as he stopped in front of me, barely looking eye-to-eye - I was a bit shorter than him, which certainly said something about my height since Pete barely stood taller than some of the younger kids around here - as he picked at his right ear. Must've been a bit waterlogged.

“Gary wanted me to tell you that after the next class is over, he wants you to go to the library and meet up with Algie. Apparently he needs to get to his locker in order to return some library books.”

“He can't do it himself? Also, why did Gary send you off to tell me, couldn't he have told me this himself?”

OK, right after saying that, I realized it sounded a bit rude, like I would've preferred talking to Gary instead of Pete. But instead of mulling over it I just waited for Pete to answer.

Pete sighed before explaining.

“Algie is terrified of going into the main school building after dinner is over. The Prefects start patrolling the school grounds since that’s where everybody else is while the rest of the faculty either hang out in the Teacher’s lounge, stay in their classrooms to work on whatever or they leave campus for the day. It basically means the Bullies have free reign of the building until about 8 PM when the janitor locks the building up.”

“Ok, yeah that makes sense, but why couldn't he just tell me this? I mean, he did tell me about Algie needing help when we were in town the other day…” Granted, I could only vaguely remember that. It's a good idea that I'd been reminded at all. But again, why couldn't Gary do it?

Pete looked at me in confusion.

“Y-you guys went into town? Did… anyone else tag along with you two or..?”

“Uh, no. It was just me and him, why?” Pete looked at me weirdly, and suddenly I realized where his thoughts were going, “Get your head out of the gutter Pete.”

Pete put his hands up defensively.

“Hold up, I didn't mean to imply you guys were doing anything like that, I just thought- Oh forget it,” he went to the back of his head, only to suddenly jerk his hand away with a look of disgust.

Ah, ok it definitely was a swirly then. Poor guy.

…Hopefully he remembers to flush his ears out, toilet water induced ear infections weren't pleasant to deal with…

…So I've heard anyway, typically from the people whose heads I'd shoved in the toilet. Not without reason, of course.

Pete continued talking, changing the topic and giving me the answer to my question.

“Anyway… the reason Gary couldn't just tell you in person is because the school elections are finishing up, so he's a bit busy with that. Head Boy responsibilities basically.”

I shrugged. I suppose that made sense. He certainly hadn't shut up about how he was the Head Boy and all that jazz during the tour around the school. In my opinion, it was one of those dumb school titles that people overstated the importance of.

…I guess it did have the benefit of avoiding serious repercussions for playing hooky, though. Especially if you were already brown-nosing the Headmaster beforehand.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Anyway, I gotta get to class, see you around,” I turned to leave, already checked out of all the noise going on around me.

I thought I could hear Pete say something else, like he was trying to get my attention again.

But to me? He might as well not have been there at all.

#bully scholarship edition #bully game #bully rockstar #bully canis canem edit #canis canem edit #jimmy hopkins #bully se #bully au #bully anniversary edition #alternate universe #genderbent au #genderbend #eunice pound #pete kowalski #bully oc

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gingerteafairy · 1 month ago

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Hi! Can I ask for an angst request where you reimagine what it would be like if Thredson had kidnapped Kit Walker and a patient reader instead of Lana, and so that's how Kit ultimately discovers that he is actually innocent plus he has to save and protect reader from the real Bloodyface?

Thanks <3

i kinda struggled on doing this one, but it's really great to try a different writing style! Hope you like it! 🖤

𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 (𝒌𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

Trapped in a nightmare at Briarcliff, you and Kit fight for survival, uncovering secrets.

tags n warning: violence, f!reader, murder, angst, kidnapping, drugging, manipulation, guns, blood. word count: 4.7k

Three minutes. That was all the time you had before Sister Jude realized you were gone. Three measly minutes to slip past Sister Mary Eunice, who now seemed so different, so unnervingly apathetic as she fussed with the gramophone in the room. The hallway stretched endlessly before you, its peeling walls and flickering ceiling light mocking your desperation. On the other side, the portal to freedom. It was now or never.

With a determined shove, the wooden door creaked in protest. You glanced back one last time. Nothing but emptiness. A nervous smile tugged at your lips, and you plunged into the storm outside. The rain, heavy and relentless, turned the ground into a treacherous mix of mud and rocks, but none of that mattered. Not after what you’d endured in that asylum. Your feet sank into the sodden terrain as your heart pounded in a chaotic rhythm of relief and terror.

Then, the scream. “Kit Walker!”

You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you’d just heard. Turning back, the world seemed to spin. Your foot caught on a rock, and you tumbled into the mud. Pain erupted in your leg, something warm seeping down to mix with the dirt—blood.

“Please, listen to me!” Kit’s voice was urgent, hoarse, each step toward you a promise of something you couldn’t decipher. He crouched down, extending a hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please!”

Your body reacted before your mind could process. You slapped his hand away, crawling awkwardly through the mud to put distance between you and him. Your knees buckled, but you forced them to work. “Stay away from me, you monster!”

He flinched, his eyes wide, as though your words hurt more than any physical blow could. But his attention shifted to something in the distance—headlights.

A car approached slowly, its beams cutting through the darkness of the forest. Threadson emerged hastily, holding an umbrella that seemed laughably inadequate against the downpour. “Get in the car, quickly!” He pulled you up with firm hands, his grip steady but not forceful, supporting your weight as you limped toward the vehicle.

“I... he can’t… He's bloody face, please. Please, you have to understand...” you began, but Threadson interrupted with a soft smile.

“He’s just another patient, like you.”

Threadson opened the car door, and though hesitant, you climbed in. Your gaze locked with Kit’s, who seemed frozen mid-step. The doctor gestured for him to follow, and he got in the back seat without a word.

As the car moved, tension filled the confined space like a physical presence. The rain pelted the windows, but the sound seemed muted by the heavy silence inside. Threadson handed you a towel, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face with an almost paternal touch. But he offered nothing to Kit, who sat soaked and shivering in the back, his arms wrapped around himself in a vain attempt to stay warm.

Something was wrong.

Threadson drove in silence, though his occasional glances at you sent chills down your spine. When he finally touched your hand, his fingers tracing yours with an odd gentleness, a knot formed in your stomach. Your eyes met Kit’s in the rearview mirror. Despite his beaten-down appearance, his gaze remained fixed on Threadson, as though trying to warn you without words.

The city lights finally appeared, reflecting off the wet road. A wave of hope washed over you. “Finally! Let’s go to the police station. People need to know what’s happening in that place.”

Threadson smiled, but it was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”

Your heart sank. “What?”

“Maybe another day.”

His tone was calm, too calm. You glanced at Kit, who looked just as alarmed as you felt. It was as if he was silently begging you to understand something, though he couldn’t say it out loud.

Something was terribly wrong.

The car came to a stop in front of an unassuming building that looked cozy enough. Its clean, well-kept exterior stood in stark contrast to the stormy night and the chaos you’d left behind. Threadson stepped out first, circling the car with deliberate ease. He opened the door for you, extending a hand with exaggerated courtesy. You hesitated before accepting, not wanting to seem rude. Your leg throbbed, even though the wound seemed to have superficially healed.

“Take it slow,” he softened, his voice almost hypnotic, laced with a calmness that should have been comforting but only deepened your unease.

Kit climbed out on his own, his gaze fixed on the ground. Threadson didn’t offer him the same courtesy, merely gesturing for him to follow. Everything felt wrong. In fact, nothing felt right. Why had it all been so easy? The storm outside had eased, but the sense of danger clung to you like a second skin.

Threadson led the way, unlocking the building’s front door with swift precision. You and Kit followed in silence, and with each step, you felt an inexplicable urge to grab Kit’s hand. He seemed... safe, in a strange way. But you resisted, crossing your arms tightly over your chest instead. He glanced at you, swallowing hard, as though he, too, wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Miss, Kit...” Threadson finally spoke, unlocking another door, this time to his apartment. He pushed it open, revealing a space that was warm, impeccably organized. “Welcome to my place.”

The room felt oddly inviting, almost too inviting. It was warm, clean, with tasteful furniture and an atmosphere that screamed trustworthiness. But a voice in the back of your mind fought against the illusion. Kit stopped just behind you, restless, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for an escape.

“Care for a drink?” Threadson asked, moving to a small table with neatly arranged bottles. “I make an excellent martini.”

“Water would be great,” you offered, trying to sound polite as you sank into the nearest chair. The soft fabric was a relief after the asylum’s cold, unyielding surfaces.

“No, dear,” he interrupted, smiling as he handed you a martini glass. “This is a special occasion. Your first day as a free woman. Let’s toast to that.”

Kit shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, come now. Are you really going to ignore medical advice?” Threadson’s voice took on an edge of irony, and Kit finally accepted a glass, though he barely touched it.

You took a hesitant sip, and almost immediately, your head began to spin. Warmth spread through your face as your limbs felt heavier by the second.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Threadson asked, leaning forward with a concern that felt far from genuine.

“Yes.” You lied, forcing a smile. “It’s just been a while since I drank anything.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Then it’s a perfect time to reacquaint yourself.” He refilled your glass before you could protest.

“I don’t think she should have any more,” Kit interjected, his voice firm but tinged with hesitation as he stepped forward, locking eyes with Threadson.

“I’m the doctor here.” Threadson’s reply was sharp enough to make you flinch, your hand trembling as you set the glass down on the floor.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Every instinct screamed at you to leave.

“Dr. Threadson, thank you for your hospitality, but I think we should get going,” you announced, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding in your chest.

“What’s the rush?” he asked, taking another step closer.

“It’s just…” You forced a nervous laugh, taking a step back. “It’s late, and I miss home.”

He laughed, a low, chilling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “And what makes you think you’re leaving?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, but before you could react, a violent blow struck your face, and the world went dark.

The gunshot echoed through the room.

Kit fell, a cry of pain escaping his lips as his hand instinctively pressed against his bleeding leg. His body writhed on the floor as he tried to get up, but the world spun around him. His vision blurred, and his strength began to falter.

“What the hell is this, Threadson?” Kit gasped, his voice hoarse with pain and anger. “Why’re you doin this? What’d you put in our drinks?”

Threadson laughed, a low and disturbing sound. He stepped closer to Kit, leaning in like a predator that had finally subdued its prey. “Oh, nothing too drastic… just a little something special to help me solve my problems.” His voice was smooth, dripping with venom.

Kit tried to fight back again, but his body refused to obey. The dizziness overwhelmed him. Threadson raised the gun again but decided another shot wasn’t necessary. With a brutal strike to the side of Kit’s head, he ensured the man fell unconscious.

The doctor sighed, adjusting his glasses that had slipped during the commotion. He looked at the limp bodies on the floor of his pristine living room, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

“You two are more trouble than I expected…” he muttered, dragging Kit aside and checking to see if you were still unconscious.

Kit woke up in a cramped room, barely larger than a closet. His head throbbed, and his vision was blurred as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. The dim light overhead cast unsettling shadows on the walls, and the air was heavy with the metallic scent of blood. Blinking rapidly, he focused on the figure standing before him—Threadson, holding a knife.

As Kit instinctively tried to push himself away, a sharp pain flared in his leg. He looked down to see his thigh bandaged, the memory of the gunshot flooding back. He was tied to a chair, leather straps cutting into his wrists.

“What the hell is this? Where is she?” Kit’s voice was rough, but his anger was palpable. He glared up at Threadson, who merely tilted his head, a smug smirk spreading across his face.

Threadson didn’t answer immediately. Instead, Kit spat in his direction, the act defiant despite his vulnerable state. The spit landed on Threadson’s cheek, but the doctor only laughed—cold and sharp—before wiping it away with his sleeve.

“I’d worry more about yourself right now,” Threadson said, his tone deceptively casual. He crouched down, placing the knife deliberately on the floor in front of Kit. The glint of the blade under the light sent a shiver down Kit’s spine. "I'm bloody face, just for the record. I couldn't live without you knowing and gaining all the credit."

“Go on. Free yourself,” Threadson said, his voice now dripping with mockery. “I already have everything I need for my plan.”

“What are you talking about? You're bloody face?” Kit demanded, his gaze flickering between the knife and the doctor. His stomach churned as he noticed the fresh blood stains smeared across Threadson’s pristine white lab coat. His voice lowered, trembling with dread. “Is that… her blood?”

Threadson rolled his eyes dramatically, his expression shifting to irritation. “Of course not,” he snapped, standing up and straightening his coat with a deliberate tug. “Now, get out. You’re too stupid to do anything about me anyway.”

Kit’s jaw clenched as he watched Threadson turn and walk away, his steps measured and purposeful. The door creaked as it opened, and the doctor left without a backward glance, leaving Kit alone in the oppressive silence.

The knife gleamed on the floor, a lifeline within reach. Kit inhaled deeply, forcing his pounding heart to calm. He leaned forward as much as his restraints allowed, his fingers clawing toward the blade. It took agonizing effort, but eventually, he grasped the handle and pulled it toward him.

“Okay,” Kit muttered to himself, his voice a shaky whisper of determination. He began sawing through the thick leather straps binding his wrists. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through his injured leg, but he gritted his teeth, his focus unyielding.

As soon as his hands were free, his muscles screamed in protest as he stood, his balance unsteady. But he couldn’t stop now. His mind raced with one thought: find you.

Threadson might have underestimated him, but Kit knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t leaving without you.

You woke up in a stark white room, the pain in your head a dull, constant throb. When you opened your eyes, the brightness forced them shut again.

When you finally managed to focus, you realized you were strapped to a bed, your hands bound tightly with leather straps, your feet immobilized. Panic surged through you like ice water.

“Help! Someone!” you screamed, your voice echoing back at you in the emptiness. "Please, help me. Anyone!"

A door, almost invisible against the white wall, opened slowly. Threadson stepped in, now wearing a clean apron and carrying a clipboard. He smiled, calm and collected, as though this was just another routine appointment.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he cooed, his tone soft but dripping with menace. “I trust you’re comfortable.”

“Why?” you managed to croak, your throat dry and raw. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re special.” His head tilted slightly as he regarded you like an artist admiring their masterpiece. “And Kit too. Fun fact. He's not the bloody face. Funny how everyone didn't see it. He's pathetic, couldn't commit such a perfect crime. That non-edecutaded man could never. But. The two of you… you’re crucial pieces of a puzzle the world isn’t ready to understand.”

“What? Kit’s not bloody face?” You cried out, sobbing. “But…everyone said. Why was him at the asylum?”

He stepped closer, his shoes clicking against the pristine floor. Your heart hammered against your ribs, every fiber of your being screaming for escape.

“There’s no need to worry. Not yet.” His hand rested on your shoulder with unnerving ease. “After all, I’m a doctor. I'm here to take care of you." Threadson placed his hand on your shoulder, letting it slide up to your face, gently brushing away your tears with his stained fingers.

"Don’t touch me," you murmured, your voice trembling with fear.

"That’s what I like about you," he chuckled softly. "You’re so brave, even in a situation like this. Admired since the first time i saw you." His hand moved to stroke your hair, the gesture making your skin crawl. You shivered violently, nausea rising in your throat.

"What are you going to do to me?" you managed, trying to sound firm, but your voice was little more than a weak whisper. The effects of that drink still clung to you, making your head swim.

"I’ve already told you, my love." He smiled, his hand returning to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His touch was firm but unsettlingly tender. "I’m going to take care of you. Heal you. Make you happy as my wife."

Your heart froze, and your breath caught in your throat. "Your what?"

Threadson laughed quietly, releasing your face as he paced the room with deliberate calm, turning to climb the bed. "All those other women, all useless," he began, his voice carrying a dark amusement as he placed himself on the top of you. "I was just looking for someone like you."

He stopped, palming his hands on each side of your head, his smile widening. "You’re perfect."

The weight of his words sank into you like lead, and every nerve in your body screamed to escape. But the restraints, the remnants of the drug in your system, and the sickening aura of Threadson held you captive.

"Please," you whispered, desperation cracking through your voice. "You don’t have to do this.”

Threadson shook his head, his eyes gleaming with something dark and unhinged. "But I do," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Don’t you see? You’re the one. You’ve always been the one. That girls had to die so I could find you. And Kit… Kit wanted to tear us apart, couldn’t you see?" Threadson pouted, tilting his head as his fingers lightly stroked your cheek. "He wanted to take you away from me, and you were falling for it... falling for him. You even tried to help him attack me."

"What? Falling for Kit?" Your brow furrowed as confusion and fear twisted inside you. You froze when he leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"Yes." He sighed contentedly. "But don’t worry, I’ve already taken care of him."

The room spun around you, but your mind sharpened with a single thought—survival. If Threadson wanted you to be his "perfect girl," then that’s exactly what you would be... until you could find the moment to escape.

"You're right... thank you," you forced a small, shaky smile to your lips. It didn’t quite reach your eyes, but it was enough. His face lit up, his smile widening in triumph.

"You’re a genius, Threadson," you murmured.

"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words," he said, his voice tinged with an almost boyish glee. He kissed your both cheeks, and you gripped the sheets tightly, fighting the fresh wave of revulsion that threatened to overwhelm you.

“My princess. I would make a whole piece of furniture with your pretty skin, but you seem so warm and pretty alive…” his hands traveled on your sides, rubbing onto his skins, the scarlet liquid mixing with the dirt and wetness from the rain in your clothes. His fingerprints on your sides. You could use it, you will use it. You will linger on it, even if he had to rape you. Anything. You’ll get rid of it alive.

Your gaze drifted upward when he attacked your neck, catching the shadowed figure of Kit standing silently at the top of the staircase. Your heart surged with hope. You needed to keep Threadson distracted—now more than ever. Every fiber of your being screamed to get away from him, but you swallowed the bile rising in your throat. If you and Kit were going to get out of this alive, you had to play along.

"Let me thank you properly," you whispered as he pushed back, putting just a hint of sweetness in your tone. "Release my hands so I can hold you… show you how grateful I am." You tried to keep your voice steady, though your palms were clammy with fear. “You can have anything from me, I'm yours. Release my hands, huh?”

Threadson threw his head back and laughed, a sound that echoed ominously in the room. It was loud enough that you saw Kit flinch from his hiding spot, and your own body trembled involuntarily.

"Oh, my dear, do you really think I’d fall for that?" he laughed, shaking his head as if amused by a child's antics.

"W-why you’re saying this? After everything you’ve done for me… You’ve been so good to me," you stammered, forcing a coy smile that made your stomach churn. “i dont deserve all this kindness.”

He studied you for a moment, his grin widening. "Fine," he paused. "But only because I’m such a nice guy for my girl, I’ll free your feet, alright?"

He reached for the cords binding your ankles, and you let out a quiet, relieved breath. One step closer. As he worked, you kept your eyes locked on Kit, silently urging him to wait for the right moment. You couldn’t let Threadson suspect anything—not yet.

“Here, my baby. Free.” He announced, but fast like a flash, Kit appeared behind him, hitting on his head with a crowbar.

“Kit!” You squeak, watching him take a last look on Threadson before going to your direction, cutting the leather with the same knife he used to be free.

“Hey.” He greeted, and you jump into his arms, giggling. “Come, we have to…”

“No!” You screamed, Threadson was still awake and cut Kit's bandage with a penknife, having him falling again, but this time, he lifted quickly. Pure adrenaline on his veins.

“Fuck!” He yelled, kicking Threadson’s head.

“Kit, go! It’s going to be okay," you pleaded, watching as he struggled to stay on his feet. His determination was evident as he reached out to pull you up. Threadson, slumped on the floor, was stirring, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated.

"I’m not leaving without you!" Kit insisted, his voice breaking as he tried again to lift you. Your legs buckled beneath you, refusing to obey, and you collapsed to the floor.

"You have to live. Go, get help—for me, for us." You began to drag yourself forward using your arms, each movement painful and slow.

"But what 'bout you?" Kit’s voice cracked, tears streaming down his face as he crouched beside you, his hands trembling. "I can’t let him do anything to you. can’t live knowing I left you behind."

“I can’t feel my legs," you choked out, a sob escaping your lips. Kit froze, staring at you in horror as the realization sank in. “And I wanted to die anyway, since I entered Briarcliff. Live for us.”

Threadson groaned from the floor, his movements growing steadier as he pushed himself up. Kit hesitated, torn between fighting and fleeing. When Threadson began to rise, Kit stepped back, his face etched with anguish.

"I’ll come back for you," Kit promised, his voice trembling with emotion.

Before you could respond, Threadson lunged forward, his hand grabbing your ankle with a vice-like grip. You screamed as he dragged you back toward the bed, his strength returning with every passing second.

"Run, Kit!" you shouted, your voice hoarse as you struggled against Threadson’s grasp. "Just go!"

Kit’s face was a mask of torment, but he turned and ran, disappearing through the door. The last thing you saw was his silhouette against the faint light of the hall before the door slammed shut behind him.

Threadson pulled you up roughly, forcing you back into the harsh mattress. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes gleamed with a deranged mix of fury and satisfaction.

"You thought he could save you?" he sneered, slapping your face and tightening the straps around your wrists. "Foolish girl."

Tears streamed down your face, but your resolve hardened. Kit was still out there, and you knew he would come back for you. You just had to survive until then. And he came a few seconds later while Threadson’s hands stroked your neck, having you gasping for air.

Kit returned, his breathing ragged but his resolve unshakable. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room as Threadson staggered, clutching his chest. Blood poured from the wound, and he collapsed forward, his weight landing heavily on top of you.

“Hold on!” Kit shouted, rushing to your side. His hands shook as he pushed Threadson’s lifeless body off you, the strain of his injuries evident in every movement.

Your chest heaved as Kit cupped your face, his expression a mix of fear and relief. “We’re getting out of here,” he said firmly, wrapping his arms around you.

Despite the pain in his leg, Kit lifted you with all the strength he had left, his body trembling as he carried you toward the staircase. Every step was a battle, but he didn’t falter. You clung to him, tears streaming down your face as the reality of your escape began to sink in.

The door to freedom loomed ahead, and with one final effort, Kit shoved it open. The storm outside had calmed, but the chill of the night air was a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of the room you’d just escaped.

You reached for the key hanging on the chain around Threadson’s neck, which Kit had taken earlier, and locked the door behind you. The metallic click was a sound of finality—a barrier between you and the horrors left behind.

The two of you stumbled into the night, away from the place that had haunted your every breath. Kit held you tightly, his warmth grounding you amidst the chaos.

Kit carefully led you into his old house after a long walk, the door creaking as he unlocked it, retrieving a hidden key from beneath the doormat. The familiar smell of dust and old wood filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile, cold environment you’d just fled. Yet, despite the mess—papers strewn across the floor, overturned furniture, and remnants of a life that had once been—this place felt more like home than anything you had experienced in the past.

You stepped inside, the weight of the world still pressing down on you, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were safe. Kit locked the door behind you, and as he did, he paused, taking a long breath. You both stood there for a moment, a quiet understanding passing between you.

That night, no sleep came. You were both shaken, your minds still reeling from the horrors you’d just escaped. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with unspoken words, raw emotions that neither of you were ready to put into words just yet. Every creak of the house, every distant sound outside, kept you both alert. But still, you stayed together, two souls bound by the same nightmare.

The first light of morning began to filter through the window, casting soft rays across the room. The day had arrived, and the quiet between you two finally broke.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice rough, but full of gratitude.

Kit turned to you, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. His eyes, though weary, reflected something you hadn’t seen in a long time—peace. "Thank you," he echoed softly.

You nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion crash over you, but also a sense of relief, knowing that somehow, against all odds, you were free.

After a few weeks, life felt like it was getting back on track, although "normal" had taken on an entirely new meaning. You had gained strength, more resilient than ever, finally exposing the horrors of Briarcliff and proving Kit's innocence. What once seemed impossible had now become reality, and with that, the old asylum was closed, marking the end of a dark chapter. Now, you were a successful journalist, a voice for the voiceless.

Sitting alone in a modest café, sipping a warm cappuccino, you reflected on everything you had gone through and accomplished. The cozy and simple ambiance was a stark contrast to the complexities of your journey. When the door's little bell rang, a familiar face appeared, and you recognized him instantly.

Kit entered, and at that very moment, something between the two of you clicked. He looked in your direction and, without hesitation, waved. The smile that spread across your face was immediate, pure joy in your eyes.

You gestured for him to come closer, and he did, sitting across from you. The conversation began effortlessly, as if no time had passed. "It’s been a while," he uttered your name with a warmth that made you smile. Right there, in that instant, you felt a surge of happiness.

"Yes. I’ve missed you so much," you murmured with genuine affection, extending your hand to him. He took it, and in that moment, it was as if all the hardships had brought you back together. "So, how have you been?"

"Renovating my house, living a calm life. I even started a farm," he revealed, his eyes bright with contentment, showing the peace he had finally found.

"That’s awesome!" you replied, delighted to see him doing well. "As for me, journalism. That’s it. Haven’t had time for anything else," you joked, sipping more coffee and getting lost in his gaze again.

"You’ve become quite famous. Congratulations," Kit commented, a big smile lighting up his face.

"Thank you. But do you know what I’m happiest about?" you inquired, feeling the moment, your heart full of warmth as you gazed at him.

"What’s that?" he asked, intrigued.

"Seeing you well, Kit," you confessed, and his smile grew even brighter, as if it could light up the entire room. "It’s great to be free, but being free with you is even better."

Those words lingered in the air, simple yet profound. The happiness was there, in the small moments, in the fact that you had found each other again and were walking through life after all the struggles. The future might still be uncertain, but together, it seemed full of promise.

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