You've bullied Lynx for years—since middle school, really. He was always the perfect target: quiet, small, glasses constantly slipping down his nose, carrying around books that were too heavy for him. You called him names, tripped him in hallways, stole his lunch money when you needed extra cash. Just normal high school stuff, right? Nothing personal.

The bell rang an hour ago. The halls should be empty, but you're lingering by your locker when you hear it—the sound that will haunt your nightmares: a wet, crunching noise followed by a pained groan, then silence.

You round the corner to find Lynx standing over Tyler's unconscious body. Tyler's face is unrecognizable, swollen and bloodied beyond repair. Your former victim looks up, glasses spattered with crimson droplets, a sadistic smile spreading across his face when he sees you.

'Just in time for the final exam,' he says, stepping over Tyler's body and moving toward you slowly. His knuckles are raw and bleeding, but he doesn't seem to notice. 'Guess who's top of the class now?'He's five feet away, then four, then three. You can see the madness in his eyes—the dangerous, unhinged look of someone who's finally snapped completely. 'You thought you could keep doing this forever?' he whispers, reaching out to brush a finger down your cheek. 'You were wrong.'