A little help

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Charlie and Hellsa were lounging in the common room of the girls' dorm, the air thick with tension. Hellsa, sprawled out on one of the couches, twirled a lock of her hair, her eyes glinting. Charlie sat on the opposite side, her expression a mixture of annoyance.

"Go on, Charlie, go cry to the teacher. Tell them I was nasty to you," Hellsa taunted, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

Charlie scowled, her patience wearing thin. "Shut up, Hellsa. You're such a jerk."

"Oh, Charlie, you're so mean." Hellsa put her hands over her chest in mock hurt. "I'm really upset. I think I'm gonna cry. Then I'd be just like you. Cry like a little daddy's girl. Oh, look out, here comes Clary."

Clarity entered the room, her expression brightening when she saw her friends, but it quickly shifted to hostility as she sensed the tension in the air.

"Knock it off, Hellsa. You're out of line," Clarity snapped, her voice filled with frustration.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was hanging out in the pussies' dorm. Silly me," Hellsa retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Clarity glanced between the two, not entirely sure of what had transpired before her arrival. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Shut up, girl. You're boring," Charlie said, dismissing Hellsa with a wave of her hand.

Hellsa bristled. "Boring? I'm boring? You're none too interesting yourself, friend."

Hellsa took a moment to calm herself, a sly smile replacing her previous aggression. "Look, I'm sorry—both of you. I apologize. Happy? I just get a little over-excited. Forgive me."

Charlie and Clarity exchanged glances. "Forget it. It's cool," Clarity muttered, though the tension still lingered.

Hellsa gestured for a huddle, her eyes gleaming with a new idea. "Anyway, I've got a good idea for some fun. Let's go out and torment someone really helpless and unfortunate—like that homeless imp." She laughed, the sound harsh and unforgiving. "Come on."

Clarity hesitated, a look of disgust crossing her face. The idea repulsed her, but she followed Hellsa anyway, not wanting to be left out or seen as weak. Charlie stayed behind, her face a mask of indecision.

"You coming, little Charlie? Come on, I'm sorry. I'll give you a kiss if that's what you want," Hellsa mocked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Shut up," Charlie snapped, sounding exhausted and done with the entire situation.

"Then come on," Hellsa beckoned, her tone more commanding. After a moment of hesitation, Charlie sighed and reluctantly followed them.

As they made their way through the campus, Clarity's mind raced. She felt a deep unease about what they were about to do, she grew up around imps and went to school with them. The image of the homeless imp, huddled and vulnerable, only made her stomach churn more.

"Let's make this quick," Clarity thought to herself, trying to push away the guilt that was already gnawing at her.

Clarity, Hellsa, and Charlie walked together through the desolate paths of the school, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. The isolated dump they were headed to was notorious for being a haven for the school's most unfortunate inhabitants. Today, they sought out the homeless imp rumored to lurk there.

"Where is this dirty old perv?" questioned Hellsa.

The area was bleak and desolate, with broken furniture, discarded items, and the occasional flicker of greenish hellfire casting eerie shadows. Clarity glanced around, trying to locate the imp amidst the debris. Hellsa and Charlie, meanwhile, began bickering again, their voices rising above the silent wasteland.

"You know, you're not very nice, Hellsa." Charlie hissed, her face twisted with frustration.

"And you're a loser, Charlie... one of life's unfortunates."

"I regret being your friend."

Hellsa sneered, her eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, spare me the moral high ground, Charlie. If you had any real backbone, you'd have left long ago."

Clarity listened silently, her eyes scanning the area but her attention split between the search and the confrontation. She didn't intervene, sensing the deep-seated tension between the two.

As they argued, a movement caught Clarity's eye. An imp stumbled out from behind a pile of discarded items. He was short and scrawny, with greyish-blue skin, red eyes, and a tattered suit that had seen better days. His horns were chipped, and he reeked of alcohol, a half-empty bottle clutched in his clawed hand.

The imp, clearly intoxicated, staggered towards them, his eyes wild and unfocused. "Get out of here, you little scum." he slurred, attempting to sound menacing.

Charlie took a step back, her face paling. "Let's just go, Hellsa."

Hellsa, however, was amused. She crossed her arms, a smirk playing on her lips. "So I guess the rumors are true, Clary. Your folks do live on campus."

The imp, angered by Hellsa's dismissive tone, snarled and grabbed a handful of glass shards from the ground. "Shut up, you jerk," he shouted, throwing the shards at them.

One of the shards hit Hellsa, cutting a gash on her arm. She yelped in pain and anger, her bravado vanishing instantly. "Ow! Let's leave this guy to his welfare payments! Come on! Let's get out of here!" she yelled, grabbing Charlie's arm and dragging her away from the scene.

Charlie glanced back, her eyes wide with fear and regret. "Clarity, come on!"

But Clarity stood her ground, unfazed by the imp's drunken rage. She watched as Hellsa and Charlie fled, her golden eyes locking onto the imp's red ones.

The imp, panting and swaying on his feet, glared at her. "You think you're tough, huh? Just like those other two?"

Clarity's expression remained calm, almost serene. "No," she replied softly. "I'm not like them."

The imp blinked, confused by her lack of fear. He took a hesitant step back, his aggression wavering. "Just get out of here, kid."

"Why should I?"

"Because otherwise, I'll kill you."

"What's your problem?"

"That's a long story. You got any liquor?"

"No, I'm clean."

"Well, what about drugs?"

"No."

"Then why shouldn't I kill you?"

"Alright then, tough guy, kill me."

He didn't answer immediately. She simply stood there, a quiet strength emanating from her. Eventually, he spoke, his voice steady. "You know what, kid - I like your style. You've got guts. When I was on that ridge during the rebellion, watching my buddies get killed by friendly fire, I could have used somebody like you." he pointed a finger at her chest.

Clarity didn't expect that, but she'd take a compliment if thrown her way: "Yeah? Thanks."

"But I bet you can't fight. You do me a favor, and I'll show you some real moves- classified moves - real special army stuff..." he continued.

"Cool."

"Just get me a part for my radio... and I'll show you what the army taught me."

"What, like how to get shot by your own side?" despite her words, the imp's offer did intrigue her, especially when she saw that his red skin was mostly hidden away with various white markings, making him appear more white than red most likely spoils of the rebellion he just mentioned. Therefore, she came to the conclusion that this imp was the real deal; no normal imp could survive for that long with that many white splotches. 

"Exactly."

With that in mind, Clarity agreed and started sprinting across the Hellschool campus, her mind racing as fast as her feet. She knew she had to help the homeless imp despite his earlier aggression. The only place she could think of where she might find the supplies she needed was the torture workshop, notorious for its... well, torture, gore, and then there's the dangerous materials stored there.

As she neared the workshop, Clarity slowed down, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The entrance loomed ahead, flanked by a few members of the Sharks clique. They were leaning against the walls, their leather jackets and slicked-back hair contrasting her white outfit.

One of them, a tall figure with a serpentine appearance, straightened up as he noticed her approach. Slytherin, the leader of the Sharks, had a serpentine elegance that was both intimidating and alluring. His scales shimmered in the dim light, and his eyes glinted with a mix of pride and greed. He resembled a king cobra, but his demeanor had an added touch of infernal charm.

"Well, well, if it isn't the school's newest firecracker," Slytherin drawled, a teasing smile curling his lips. "What brings you to our little corner of hell?"

Clarity slowed to a stop, trying to steady her breath and compose herself. "I need a spare transistor," she said, her voice firm despite the butterflies in her stomach. "It's urgent."

Slytherin's smile widened, his eyes narrowing with interest. "A transistor, huh? What for Clarity? Planning something?"

Clarity rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "None of your business, Slytherin. Can you help me or not?"

He chuckled, the sound low and smooth, and sauntered closer to her. "Fiesty as ever, I see. Alright, for you, anything." With a flick of his tail, he opened a nearby compartment, revealing a stash of various mechanical and chemical components. He deftly plucked out a transistor and held it out to her, his eyes never leaving her face.

Clarity reached for it, her fingers brushing against his. The brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she felt her cheeks heat up. "Thanks," she mumbled, trying to ignore the smirk spreading across his face.

"Anytime, sweetheart," Slytherin replied smoothly, winking at her. "Be careful out there."

Clarity nodded, clutching the transistor tightly. She turned to leave, but Slytherin's voice stopped her in her tracks. "You know, Clarity, if you ever need anything else... or just some company, you know where to find me."

She glanced back at him, her heart pounding. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, her voice softer than she'd intended.

As she hurried away, she heard one of Slytherin's buddies chuckle. "Looks like the boss is whipped for the new girl," the guy teased.

Slytherin's laughter followed her down the hall, but it was warm rather than mocking. "Shut up," he retorted good-naturedly. "She's something special."

Clarity didn't look back again, her mind focused on the task. She reached the torture workshop, the spare transistor clutched in her hand. She would do what needed to be done.

Clarity returned to the isolated dump where the homeless imp had set up his makeshift home. She clutched the transistor tightly, her heart pounding with anticipation. The imp, still nursing a drink, looked up as she approached, his eyes narrowing before widening in recognition.

"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, his voice rough but not unfriendly. "You actually got it."

Clarity held out the transistor. "A deal's a deal, right?"

The imp took the transistor, inspecting it closely before nodding with satisfaction. "Thanks, kid, you're one of the good ones."

They moved to a cleared space, the imp tossing aside empty bottles and debris to create a makeshift sparring area. Clarity stretched, trying to loosen up her muscles. She knew this wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to learn whatever he had to teach.

The imp cracked his knuckles and assumed a fighting stance. "Alright, kid. First, we start with an uppercut. It's a powerful move if done right. Aim for the chin and put your whole body into it."

Clarity nodded, focusing on his instructions. She mimicked his stance, her movements precise and graceful. Her pink hair swayed with her movements as she prepared to strike.

"Come on, now. Hit me!" the imp shouted, his voice gruff but encouraging.

Clarity launched herself at him, her uppercut swift and strong. The imp blocked it easily, but she could see a glint of approval in his eyes.

"Not bad, girl. But you need to put more power into it. Again!"

They continued sparring, the imp barking instructions and encouragements. "Keep your balance! Use your legs! That's it, now give me another uppercut!"

"I learned this technique from this crazy one-"

Clarity's movements became more fluid, her confidence growing with each strike. She danced around the imp, her style elegant yet deadly. Her strikes were precise, her form high and powerful. Every time she attacked, she could feel herself getting stronger and more focused.

The imp watched her with a critical eye, occasionally stepping in to correct her form or demonstrate a move. Despite his rough exterior, he was a surprisingly good teacher, and his methods were brutal but effective.

"Remember this, girl," he said during a brief pause, "there was this one douchebag named Michael during the rebellion. He had this move—an overhead slam—that wiped out most of my platoon. More powerful than hell. You gotta put everything into your attacks, just like that."

Clarity nodded, her eyes steely with determination. She launched herself at him again, this time aiming for a high kick followed by a swift uppercut. The imp blocked her kick, but the uppercut caught him off guard, landing squarely on his chin.

He staggered back, a grin spreading across his face. "That's the spirit, girl! Now you're getting it."

They continued sparring, the imp pushing her harder and harder. Clarity felt her muscles burn, but she refused to back down. She was determined to prove herself, not just to him but to herself as well.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the imp called for a halt. "Alright, that's enough for today. You've got potential, kid. Keep practicing, and you'll be a force to be reckoned with."

Clarity nodded, breathing heavily but feeling exhilarated. "Thanks," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

The imp waved her off. "Don't mention it. Just remember to bring me a transistor when you come back next time."

Clarity smiled, feeling a sense of achievement stir within herself. Despite their rough start, she knew she had found an unexpected ally in this strange, dirty place. As she walked away, she couldn't help but say that a shower was in order, but her mind was already racing with thoughts of her next training session. She quickened her pace before Krampus or any prying eyes could see her form, disheveled and sweaty.

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Psalm 145:1

I will exalt you, my God the King;

I will praise your name for ever and ever.