THE HUNTER AWAKENS(EDITED)
Alex Smythe trudged through the hallways of Oakridge High, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fixed on the ground. The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Lockers creaked and groaned as students rushed to their next class, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to Alex's misery.
As he turned a corner, a group of students loomed ahead, their eyes fixed on him like predators. Mark, his stepbrother, sneered, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Lisa, his stepsister, stood beside him, her eyes gleaming with malice. Greg and Jessica, their friends, flanked them, their faces twisted in cruel grins.
"Hey, Powerless," Mark taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "What's the matter, Alex? Still a freak?"
Alex's heart raced as they closed in on him. He knew what was coming.
In the lunchroom, they cornered him behind the gym. Mark led the charge, shoving Alex against the brick wall. "What's the matter, Alex? Still a powerless freak?" Mark sneered.
Lisa's eyes glowed a faint purple as she planted sinister thoughts in Alex's mind, making him doubt his every action. Greg ignited a small flame in his palm, threatening to burn Alex if he didn't comply with their humiliating demands.
"Stop it!" Alex shouted, mustering all his courage. He swung at Mark, but his punch was caught mid-air. Mark twisted Alex's arm behind his back, forcing him to his knees. "Pathetic," Mark growled, slamming Alex to the ground.
Greg and Jessica joined in, blasting Alex with scorching heat and gusts of wind. Alex's body ached, and bruises began to form rapidly.
Just when Alex thought he couldn't take any more, Claire appeared. Her fiery red hair and emerald eyes sparkled with determination as she charged at Mark. She had grabbed a discarded metal pole and swung it with all her might, hitting Mark in the ribs.
"Run, Alex!" Claire shouted, helping him to his feet. They bolted, weaving through the maze of hallways. The sound of their pursuers' footsteps echoed behind them, but Claire knew the school better than anyone.
They finally reached an old, abandoned cabin in the woods, where they collapsed in exhaustion. Alex's body throbbed with pain, but he knew they had to keep moving.
As night fell, they cautiously made their way through the shadows, avoiding detection. Alex felt every step in his battered body, but he knew they had to keep moving.
When they reached Alex's neighborhood, Claire squeezed his hand. "Take care, Alex. Don't let them win." "I won't," he promised, feeling a glimmer of hope because of her unwavering support.
Sneaking back into his house was a meticulous task. Alex climbed the fence to avoid the front door, slinking through the backyard and hoisting himself up to his bedroom window. He slid it open, thankful he had left it unlocked that morning.
Once inside, he locked his door and collapsed onto his bed, wincing in pain. That night, as he lay there replaying the day's events, anger and frustration boiled within him. He hated feeling powerless.
Suddenly, a cold shadow crept over his room, and a voice echoed in his mind, "Do you seek power, Alex Smythe?"
Startled, Alex looked around but saw no one. "Who are you?" he whispered.
"You can call me Damian, the spirit of vengeance. I can grant you the power to fight back, to be more than just a victim," the voice replied, its tone both ominous and inviting.
Alex hesitated, the weight of his bruises and the humiliation of his defeats pressing on his mind. "What do you want in return?" he asked warily.
"Nothing much, I just want to witness your growth and see how it all plays out," the voice intoned.
After thinking it over, Alex finally accepted. "Yes," he breathed, his resolve hardening.
A surge of energy coursed through his veins. Darkness enveloped him, and when it receded, he stood transformed. His senses were sharper, his strength tenfold. He was no longer just Alex Smythe; he was the future.
The one who will stand at the pinnacle of strength in the future. Alex clenched his fists, shadows swirling around them. "I will make them pay," he vowed. "For every bruise, every scar, they will suffer tenfold. No more hiding, no more running. They will know my wrath."