How is it in cartoons? Does a hero always help you? Which saves you from the villains, not giving every inhabitant to be sad. It’s a pity? Only here in our world is not so.
It was an ordinary day for an ordinary schoolboy from an ordinary family. The autumn cold churned through Brendan’s scarf, making him crawl through the body. Here is a hated school. Although he was not bullied, he did not like this terrible place filled with a bunch of children.
“Oh, look, this is Brendan. So early came.”
“Hi,” said the cheerful dark-skinned girl with thick black hair, next to which stood three other classmates talking about their boyfriends.
“And hello to you too. I myself do not believe that I could come early,” he answered, smiling and putting the scarf in the locker.
He took out his backpack, which he left there yesterday, and after checking the books, he went to class.
The school day was pretty fast. Of course, if you sit on the last desk and do all sorts of nonsense. As always, he used a stationary knife, or tore off, or cut anything: paper, the edge of a desk, a pencil.
He did not know why, but he liked the pain. Frequently unscrewing the sharpener screws, he took out a blade and cut his little finger to the blood, and then left his mark on the clerical knife. And so on until the ninth grade.
Here it is near the bus stop. Despite the fact that he lived nearby, the guy always escorted to the home of his classmates. But in fact it was just an excuse not to go home, because his father, two years ago, was accused of illegal immigration and imprisoned. During this time, his mother earned herself a heart disease, and his grandmother a stroke.
Brendan always waited for his hero, as in films and fairy tales. Someone will surely save him and his family, but no one came, and he only waited patiently until he lost hope.
He came home, hugged his grandmother, and quickly went off to the second floor in his room with the words: “I will go to study, there are a lot of homework.”
But in fact, just surf in the internet and read books.
This time he listened to music with headphones and dozed off a bit.
“Bonnie! Bonnie!” a familiar voice is heard in the background of darkness.
“BONNIE!” after such a scream, he woke up and saw his sister in front of him.
“What do you want?” he said, scratching his ear and checking whether everything was in order with his eardrums.
“Let’s go eat,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Ok,” the guy said and headed to the first floor.
Again the same topics about studying, about diseases, about the news of the world.
After dinner, he took a shower and went to sleep.
“Again, the end of the usual day.” he thought, lying on the bed. But Brendan could not fall asleep, so he read the book until the morning come.
Also the beginning of the day. Again he was late. As always. Today he is very nervous: first he woke up late and was rude to his family for not waking him up, then in a hurry he spilled coffee on his striped shirt and fell into the dirt on the way, then changed clothes at school.
Coming to the realm of lockers, he saw his childhood friend, who was several years older than him. They talked a bit, talked about the school and about the family.
“Ok, I need to go to the university. Bye Bonnie,” he said, and left.
“See you later,” the guy answered and headed towards the class.
After lessons, he again came to his iron keeper of books and copy books.
And there was one of his high classmate with brown hair tied in a small tail, blackened at the end.
“Bonnie, mean?” she asked with a sneer.
“Haha, I didn’t think that a guy like you would have such a nickname.”
“How low it is,” she grinned.
Brendan himself was hot-tempered, and her laughter simply infuriated him.
And he ran after her at insane speed through the school. He loved to catch up. Especially if he was a hunter.
After a couple of minutes the guy caught up with his victim and took her by the throat.
Holding it in the air, he looked up at her. He felt something strange inside him.
Somehow unusual. It feels good, but something was wrong. He no longer controlled himself.
“If you call me like that again, then I will choke you with my own hands,” he said.
Then the teacher came and then he let her go, recovering himself. The girl immediately began to cough, falling to her knees.
“Ok, now you catching up,” he said, imitating the game and ran away.
He immediately went to the nearest toilet and looked at himself in the mirror, washing his face and simultaneously removing his long hair.
“What was that just about? Why did I do this? That feeling… very bad. I have to apologize to her,” he said to himself and, after drying his hands, left the bathroom and went to the locker.
Taking from there – everything he needed, he went home straight way, thinking only about what had happened.
It is morning. He was late again. In a hurry, he wore his daily clothes: a red-black Scottish shirt, black, loose jeans and a favorite white scarf.
All day he wanted to apologize to a classmate, but he could not find her. And at break time, when he finally met her, he asked for forgiveness, but the girl only ignored him. Then Brendan noticed a small, multi-colored bandage around her neck that covered the red marks from his fingers.
The guy returned to the class, sat down and began sharpening his office knife on the iron part of the desk, and then he again felt very strange. The same as yesterday. But he did not pay attention to it and at the end of the lesson, lowering the trigger of the stationery knife, put it in his pocket.
After classes, he went to his locker and took his scarf, wrapped himself up and began to collect books for tomorrow.
Soon Brendan went out into the school yard. At the same time, there was a horde of guys who were several years older than him, but they were much stronger (as it seemed) than our Brendan.
Pushing people out of the middle came the same classmate and some high school student. She began to cuddle up to him and complained, pointing a finger at Brendan.
“Yes, it is he who almost strangled me. Honey, will you avenge for me? It was very painful, look at my neck, ”she said, pointing to her bandage.
“Of course, for you – anything. Do not leave a living place on it,” he ordered, after which high school students began to attack the guy.
Brendan remained under the blows, although at first he could dodge.
A few minutes later, through the attacks, he heard the girl’s such annoying laughter.
“Ha ha ha, look at him. No one will save you, petty madman,” she said, looking down on him.
He felt the same as in the class, only stronger. Much stronger than all this time taken together.
“You’re right,” he said, rising and looking down. “If there is no hero, then I will become him.”
After these words, with a mad smile on his face, he began to attack everyone.
Then the whole gang pulled out Kerambits and began to threaten him.
Brendan took a weapon from one of them and stabbed one of the guys in his stomach.
With agony, he writhed and screamed, holding his wound with his hand and trying to stop the blood.
This picture gave him such pleasure that he began to laugh out loud, while continuing to attack the others.
Seeing what was happening, their leader went out and took out a dagger, attacked him from behind, clutching at his back.
Uneven lines to the nose cut his eyes and eyelids. Brendan fell, screaming in pain and then began to smile .
“Well, got yours? Psychopath,” he said, looking at the guy.
Brendan wiping blood from his face, tried to open his eyes, starting to get used to the sensation of pain and restoring vision.
After that, he got up and pulled out his stationery knife.
“You’re right,” he said, exposing the blade.
“I haven’t gotten enough blood yet.”
He looked very creepy: the tips of the brown hair were reddened, the round pupils now became vertical lines, the capillaries of the eyes blow out and the protein became scarlet, from the wounds flowed blood and the snow-white scarf was colored black and burgundy, sometimes remaining brown.
In a few moments he killed the whole “team” laughing.
“You’re really crazy,” he said, holding tightly to the dagger.
“It will not get away with you! I won’t let you do it!” he shouted and swiftly went to the guy.
Brendan hit him in the face with his knee, then in the stomach, forcing the leader to writhe in pain and lie down on the ground.
Taking advantage of the moment the guy just took him by the hair, baring his neck, and then cut his throat.
The blood gushed like a fountain on the ground and the leader dropped dead.
Brendan laughed out loud and licked blood from his knife, feeling a metallic taste in his mouth.
He heard someone’s accelerated breathing and the quick thud of heels.
“Oh yes, I forgot about our princess. You and I have not yet played last game,” he said, and at a high-speed caught up a classmate, placing a stationary knife on her face.
“You lost,” he said, drawing a long and deep line along her forehead.
The girl began to scream and convulse on the ground, cursing the guy.
“Tchshshsh, you’re too noisy. The hero is already here.”
Then he cut her throat.
