[Author's Note: I know I said I wouldn't add any more warnings because they're all listed at the beginning of the book but please please do not read this chapter if you are mentally in a bad place right now. The character introduced in this chapter is genuinely DIABOLICAL and I do not condone anything this character says or does.]

No further progress had been made on the investigation - or, at least, that's what they were saying. Concerned residents had been pushing for more details on the infamous incident but each request was met with an eerie silence from officials. This, in turn, only widened the scope for conspiracy theories and rumours. Whispers began to circulate; word that the police were covering things up, concealing vital evidence, distracting the public from the real suspect. It was mostly nonsense pumped out by attention-seeking users on social media and low-brow news articles desperate to generate click and traction, but you understood everyone's urgency to find out what exactly was going on. Deaths were not at all uncommon in the city, but a murder investigation... now that was something new. Something juicy and exciting. Barely a couple days had passed since the remains were found and yet several wannabe true crime podcasters from your college had already jumped to posting about. Many of them had started conducting interviews, searching for witnesses or anyone with missing friends or relatives.

Obviously, you were on edge because of it all, but nothing terrified you more than seeing those extroverted students wandering around campus with their tiny microphone and best friend holding up a phone camera to everyone's faces. They were asking around for everyone's opinions on the matter, so you had to be ultra stealthy this week. Koda was equally alarmed by the sudden boost in interest. Not because he was scared about getting caught, of course. No, rather, he just didn't want to be disturbed while in the middle of stalking you.

Koda had no one to blame but himself though. Aside from the fact that he straight up murdered someone, he had also been sloppy with disposing the body. This was not his usual streak. He had done this before with great success, but this time he was giddy. At the time, he had received a message from you, asking if he'd like to hang out on Valoria Online. As a result, he rushed the process, leaving behind little tidbits of evidence like a cat leaving parts of its prey around the house. Well, whatever. It was infuriating but he knew he wasn't a suspect. Even if he was a lovesick fool, he had taken the time to privately learn about forensics and how the police trace murders back to a suspect. Technology is advanced, but anyone can get away with murder if they know what they're doing.

"Kodaaa~ Hi hi!" Skylar said, suddenly inserting herself into Koda's line of sight, depriving him off his stalkerish observations of you.

She lunged forward eagerly, arms open and ready to cling on to Koda like a needy highschool girlfriend. However, Koda reacted quickly and backed away, visibly holding his hands up in "please don't touch me" gesture.

"Hehehe, I'm gonna get you next time. I already surprise-hugged the others, and you're the last one on my list, so be prepared. Hehe!" Whenever she spoke to Koda, she made an obvious effort to make her voice sound higher-pitched and more "anime-like." Thinking him to be a bit of a closeted weeb, she had hoped that this would please him but it had the opposite effect.

Koda blinked away his frustration and did his best to maintain a normal and semi-polite composure.

"N-no, please don't do that." He said uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.

Skylar panicked at his reaction. Usually men enjoyed her performative advancements - especially loner ass guys like Koda who kept to themselves. Now she just looked like a pervert who had overstepped someone's boundaries. She laughed nervously, shaking off what she had just said.

"Oh no no no! I-I was just joking! I'm totally not gonna do that. Haha. I mean that would be so weird of me, right?"

"..."

"A-anyways, hi!"

"Hello."

There was not an ounce of interest in Koda's voice. Even his eyes seemed to dull the further the conversation progressed.

"Soo did you hear about the murder case? It's so scary!! I don't know what I'm gonna do. I walk home allll by myself. What if the killer gets me?"

This was code for: Hey, let's walk home together.

"I think you will be okay."

"Ah but you don't know that! What if it's one of those creeps that kidnaps and murders young, beautiful women for snuff films and stuff? Ahahaha just kidding! But can you imagine?"

"Mhm. That would not be very nice."

"...yeah. So... uhh... w-would you-"

"Sorry, Skylar. I have to go to class now. You have a nice day."

Koda turned and began walking away.

"R-right! Totally. You too! Stay safe. Hahaha... I hate myself."

━━━━━━━━━━━ Meanwhile... ━━━━━━━━━━━

Class was different now. The experience had shifted. For the longest time, you had been content to remain at the back of the room, idly texting Kitty as you waited for your teacher to show up. It was a routine. Almost a ritual. But now, you actually had people in real life who wanted to talk to you - a group Not quite a "friend" group just yet but close enough to matter. And because of that, you guiltily found yourself leaning on Kitty less and less. You still messaged him whenever you could, but not with the same urgency as you once did. That said, adjusting to the new norm wasn't easy for you. Having people willingly sit down beside you to chat was nice for the most part, but you were still the same socially anxious introvert who craved space and solitude every now and then. One morning, after a particularly long exchange between Mimiko and Liam, you found yourself needing a breather. You politely excused yourself and left to find a bathroom to quietly contemplate in. Both of them were lovely in their own ways - Liam's infectious energy and Mimiko's eager curiosity - but their constant chatter could get overwhelming, especially first thing in the morning. They always directed the conversation and their questions toward you rather than with each other so it felt like you were constantly fighting to keep going and give them answers.

After escaping the classroom, you made a beeline for the nearest bathrooms, hoping that a splash of cold water might wake you up. No such luck, however. It was an immediate no-go. Not only was there a crowd of students pilling out into the hallway, but some obnoxious guy was standing outside, filming TokToks with every random passerby. He held his phone up excitedly, firing off questions about the latest murder investigation as though it were some hot gossip. Nope. Hard pass. You backed away stiffly, praying that he hadn't spotted you lingering around the back.

Then, with a defeated sigh, you opted to use the bathroom on the furthest side of the building instead. One that people seldom used. You had been there before. It was quiet, tucked away from the chaos of student life. Exactly what you needed.

That's when a loud cackle of laughter pierced the air, echoing down the very hall you were descending down. You paused and promptly looked around you, paranoid that the laughter was directed at you.

"Listen, I'm doing you a favour here. Your friends might not be bitchy enough to say it to your face but I am. We all know what see what you're doing. It's fucking cringe. Everyone's been talking about it behind your back, Harper."

That voice. It was painfully familiar, though not something you were used to hearing every day. You were certain it could only belong to one particular person. You crept a little closer, peering around the corner of the wall to see what all the commotion was about.

"I-I really don't know w-what you're talking ab...about." The other girl stammered. She shifted on her feet uncomfortably and pulled down her cardigan sleeves further as though to conceal something.

"Ue-ehu-euh. Oh my god. Spare me the forced stuttering, Mary Sue. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You instantly recognised the outspoken girl leaning against the wall with effortless confidence. Her emerald-green hair pulled into a messy ponytail with two long strands framing her sharp, angular face like the edges of a blade. Deep reddish-brown eyes glinting with sadism and dangerous curiosity. Predator toying with prey. The soft glow of the hallway lights danced across her dark skin, smooth and radiant, highlighting every smug curve of her lips as they twisted into a cruel smirk.

She wore a slightly oversized yellow hoodie with a bold, black graphic splashed across the front. It draped over her lean frame casually, complimenting the sharp, black denim shorts that peeked from beneath the hem. Ripped and rugged. An outfit edgy enough to set her apart without alienating herself too much from the crowd. Even the chipped black polish of her nails seemed intentional. A little touch of roughness and chaos to complete the picture. This wasn't just someone who flirted with danger - she was the danger.

This was Nyoka. Daughter of the principle and notorious bully.

Actually no.

"Bully" was an understatement. It felt too naive and childish to match the depth of Nyoka's depraved character. Bullies were for high school, mean girls who wanted to fit in and be accepted by their equally shallow peers. Nyoka was straight-up a sociopath. With all the menacing stories about her, you would't be surprised if she tortured animals during her childhood. Her list of excessive cruelty toward others met no bounds, and worst of all, she rarely faced any consequence for her actions. Her father wanted her to succeed in school and would constantly protect her from meeting any ramifications of her ill-behaviour, even if it meant twisting words around and gaslighting her victims into thinking that they were the ones who had done wrong. All rumours, of course. But, oftentimes, rumours can hold a little truth in them.

Nyoka was stood by three other friends. Her pathetic followers. They were no where near as vile as Nyoka when it came to wrongdoing but they could spit just as much venom if provoked. One of her friends seized Harper's arm and pulled up her sleeve.

"Whooooop! Wrist reveal!- ohhh... yikes. Awkward. My bad my bad." The friend covered her mouth, feigning shame as she tried to stifle her laugh.

"Waiiiit. Don't tell me!-" Nyoka gasped theatrically, throwing her hands in the air with mock surprise. "Oh nooo~ Were you hiding something under there? Little kitty scratches? Awwwww... Well, hey, look on the bright side. You wanted the attention, didn't you? Trust me, I used to do this shit when I was fourteen. Cutters always do it for attention. Never thought I'd see a grown ass adult doing it. Crazy."

"Please stop it. I don't know what I did to make you guys hate me so much but please stop. I'm sorry!! I can't take it much more." Harper wept desperately, burying her face into her sleeved hands.

You felt like you were watching the rehearsal for a play. It was just too evil. Comedically evil, almost. Even though you didn't exactly get along with most people in college, you had never seen anyone be this much of a degenerate. Either everyone had outgrown their petty, high school ways or they would be more subtle with their cruelty. But Nyoka didn't care. She didn't care if people wanted her dead, she didn't care if people thought she was a deranged maniac, she didn't care about anything. She had nothing to lose. This was all fun and games to her.

"Can't take it much more? Like your Dad? Apparently they haven't ruled suicide out from his little 'workplace accident' yet."

"Don't even mention his name, you bitch."

"Yooo holy shit, guys!! I made her swear. That must have been a big moment for you. Probably not as big as when your papi fell into that machine. Hey, do you think his last moments were caught on LeakedLive? Factory worker deaths go crazy on there. Who knows, maybe he left you a little goodbye message in his blood before he got grounded into minced meat."

The shockingly depraved comment about Harper's father was met with dead silence from all the girls on the scene. Even Nyoka's followers side-eyed one another with a quiet, shared acknowledgment that their friend had gone too far, though, no one dared to question it. Tension wafted in the air, emotions hot and tempered like when you sit too close to the fireplace. Harper's eyes widened, glassy with unshed tears. Her breathing had become shallow and ragged, knuckles whitening as her fists clenched at the sides. Nyoka scoffed with a deliberate smugness as she began casually looking at her phone screen, barely affected by the disgusting barrage of words that had just propelled from her mouth. It was unforgivable.

Harper didn't hesitate. With a strangled, furious cry - more animal than human - the girl lunged wildly at Nyoka, entire body trembling with rage. In that fleeting second, even Nyoka seemed surprised. Her eyes briefly flickered with fear before a toothy grin took over her face. Nyoka swiftly sidestepped and launched a sharp and violent kick into Harper's side. A loud metallic clang echoed down the corridor as she slammed into the lockers, knocking through air from her lungs. She staggered, gasping and stumbling unsteadily but her fury wasn't yet extinguished. With tears streaming down her face, she swung again, aiming at anything. Nyoka and her friends barely had to dodge such hapless efforts.

Nyoka, who had started recording the incident on her phone, laughed.

"Wow, Harper. If your Dad could see you now... he'd probably wish the machine had fucked him harder. I mean I'd jump into a fucking meat grinder too if my kid was this autistic. What the hell are you swinging at, girl."

If you had been born the brave and bold protagonist of any other story, then perhaps you'd have marched straight into the chaos and brought justice upon Nyoka's needless torment. But you didn't.

You couldn't.

And that internal realisation stung you more than the girl's malevolent hostility. You were no hero. Just like many others, you were destined to be a bystander. An observer with no purpose. A coward. A trembling hand reached for your chest, self-soothing, as your heart pounded violently. Each thump a desperate call for action. Empathy, virtue, all of it was overrun by a primal urgency to avoid conflict and danger. Your feet became one with the floor below, rooted into the ground, denying you the movement to intervene.

Your mind jumped back to those corny TV shows your aunt used to watch. Publicised social experiments where strangers were placed in chaotic and undesirable situations and forced to instinctively act on their morals. They wouldn't know they were secretly being recorded until the charismatic host would come out from hiding and either praise them or their heroism or question their unwillingness to intervene. Watching those shows, you always scoffed at those who didn't act, telling yourself that you would be different. You would do something. How disappointed your younger self would be if they saw you right now.

Someone else will step in, you thought to yourself. A member of staff. Another student. Someone will walk by and see this. But the seconds dragged on, cruel and unyielding. No mercy came.

Nyoka's sharp, venom-laced words pierced the air like daggers, each one cutting deeper into Harper. Though you could no longer see her face form where you were standing, you could tell how broken she was from the shaking of her shoulders. It was over. The vicious tug-of-war where only one side was ever destined to win, it was done. Broken sobs filled the silence. Harper turned away, red face buried in her hands as she fled down the hallway, her soft cries fading into the distance.

You didn't do anything.