6 First taste of revenge

Chapter 6: First Taste of Revenge

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. Amelia stepped into the hallway, her footsteps echoing against the polished floors. Something inside her had changed. She could feel it in the way her body moved—stronger, lighter, faster. The bruises that once painted her skin like cruel reminders were gone, as if they had never existed.

Her senses were sharper now. The whispers behind her back, the giggles of mockery—she could hear them all. The rapid beating of hearts, the shifting of feet, the scent of nervous sweat clinging to the students who had tormented her for so long. They were all afraid, even if they didn't realize it yet.

And she reveled in it.

Victoria Langley, the queen of cruelty, stood at the end of the corridor with her usual entourage. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped against her phone screen as she smirked, whispering something to the girls flanking her sides. Amelia didn't need to strain to hear it.

"Look who finally decided to crawl back," Victoria said, her voice dripping with mockery.

A few chuckles followed, but they were hesitant. Amelia could sense their unease. The way their gazes flickered toward her bruiseless skin, how their laughter didn't quite reach their eyes.

She walked past them, her head high, her body poised with a newfound grace she hadn't possessed before. The moment she did, Victoria's lips curled into a sneer, and in one swift move, she reached out and shoved Amelia's shoulder.

Or at least, she tried to.

The moment Victoria's palm connected with Amelia's arm, something snapped—not in Amelia, but in Victoria.

Amelia caught her wrist in mid-air, her grip unyielding. A loud, sickening crack filled the air as bones shattered beneath her fingers. Victoria's scream was instant, piercing through the hallway like a wounded animal. Her eyes widened in sheer horror as she fell to her knees, clutching her now twisted wrist.

The hallway fell silent. Every student turned, their faces pale with shock.

Amelia tilted her head, watching Victoria with an eerie calm. The fear in Victoria's eyes, the way her lips trembled, it sent a thrill through Amelia's veins.

"Oops," Amelia murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. "Did I do that?"

Victoria gasped, her face contorted in agony. "Y-you... you broke my wrist!"

Amelia crouched down to meet her at eye level, her golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Did I?" Her voice was almost innocent, a sharp contrast to the cruelty she had endured all her life. "I thought you were stronger than that."

Victoria whimpered, her once unshakable confidence shattered like her fragile bones. The girls who stood behind her took cautious steps back, their fear radiating off them in waves.

Fear.

Finally, they knew what it felt like.

Amelia straightened, stepping away as Victoria cradled her wrist, sobbing uncontrollably. The power in her veins pulsed, thrilling, intoxicating. For the first time, she wasn't the weak one. She wasn't the victim.

She was the nightmare they never saw coming.

The whispers started immediately. The stares of fear and awe. The silent acknowledgment that Amelia Monroe was no longer the girl they could push around.

She turned, walking down the hall, the sound of her boots striking the floor the only noise in the stunned silence.

This was just the beginning.

And she was only getting started.