Death to Power
Copyright© 2025 by TheSmartOne
Chapter 1: A Cowardly Death
BOOM—!
A fist crashed into the face of a young man with bright orange hair, sending him sprawling to the ground.
He didn’t scream. Just a groan, low and rough.
The boy who threw the punch—tall, lean, with neatly styled blue hair—grinned down at him. “What, that all you got?” he said, his voice mocking. “Come on, Boris. Make some noise. Crawl, cry—something.”
Laughter erupted around them. Half a dozen students stood in a loose circle, their uniforms crisp, their eyes cold.
They were all students of the same elite college. And they were in a part of campus no one ever monitored—a tucked-away maintenance lot behind the chemistry building. The kind of place where screams didn’t echo far.
To them, this was just another Tuesday.
Boris didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He stayed curled on the cracked pavement, one hand twitching slightly near his ribs.
The silence irritated Luke—the blue-haired boy. He crouched down, grabbed Boris by the collar, and lifted his bruised face just enough to stare into his dull, golden eyes.
“I said scream, you little freak.”
Boris looked at him. Not with defiance. Just emptiness.
He was ... tired.
Luke’s jaw tightened.
“You think a scholarship makes you one of us?” Luke muttered, quieter now. “My dad sees kids like you as pets. I’m just the one who says it out loud.”
He shoved him down again. Hard.
Someone in the group kicked him in the back. Another laughed nervously and muttered, “He’s gone numb, man. Doesn’t even flinch anymore.”
More kicks followed. Harder this time. Faster.
Thud. Crack. A wet cough escaped Boris’s lips. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“Hey,” came a calm voice from behind them. “That’s enough.”
The group turned. A tall student with golden hair—Nathan—stepped forward, hands in his pockets. Behind him stood a striking girl with black hair, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Luke gave a frustrated sigh. “Why are you always interrupting the fun, Nathan?”
Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Because your version of fun might get us expelled. Or worse—cut off.”
He let the words hang.
Luke scowled. “No one’s cutting me off. You know who my father is.”
Nathan’s tone sharpened, just a touch. “Yes. I do. And so do the school administrators. You think they’ll protect you when your tantrums start making headlines?”
Silence fell.
Nathan turned to the others. “Pick him up. Get him to the medical center. If anyone asks, you did it. Not Luke. Not me.”
There was hesitation.
“You hear me?” Nathan’s voice dropped. “If he dies and you didn’t cover for Luke, you’ll be next.” His voice was cold.
The students scrambled, lifting Boris’s limp body and rushing off.
Luke stayed behind, breathing hard.
“He’s not dead,” Nathan said, “But you’re lucky.”
Luke muttered, “I’m not scared of you.”
Nathan smirked. “No. But you’re scared of your dad.”
From the back, the girl finally spoke, her voice light, even cheerful. “Are we done? I’m starving.”
“Katy,” Nathan said, “found a new place downtown. Super expensive.”
“And you’re paying,” Katy added, nudging Luke.
“What? I paid last time.”
“For this mess, you’re paying again,” Nathan said, already walking away.
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