8. The Return to Hell

The iron gates of Blackwood Academy stood tall before Ethan, just as they always had.

Massive. Cold. Unyielding.

They had once felt like a prison.

Now, they felt like a graveyard.

A graveyard where his old self had been buried.

The weak, frail boy who had cowered in the hallways.

The boy who had begged for mercy.

The boy who had been left to die.

And yet, here he was, standing at the entrance once more.

Except this time, he wasn't the same Ethan.

He wasn't the helpless victim they had beaten.

He wasn't the boy they had spat on, mocked, destroyed.

That Ethan had died in the abandoned dormitory.

This Ethan had risen from the dead.

His hoodie was pulled low over his face, shadows covering his features. His hands, once small and trembling, now felt different—stronger, steadier.

His body moved differently too—more precise, more controlled.

Even his heartbeat was slower.

Calm. Cold.

The system whispered in his mind, a quiet presence he had come to accept.

"Claim vengeance."

The words coiled around his thoughts like a snake, tightening with every passing second.

"Make them suffer."

Ethan stepped through the gates.

The students around him moved as they always had—laughing, chatting, shoving each other playfully. None of them noticed him.

None of them recognized the dead boy walking among them.

His breath hitched as he stepped into the courtyard.

And then he saw them.

Damian.

His golden hair shone under the weak afternoon light. His uniform was crisp and perfect, as if nothing in the world could ever touch him. His posture was effortless, confident, untouchable.

And beside him—

Tyler. Mason. Jake.

The ones who had held Ethan down.

The ones who had kicked him until he couldn't move.

The ones who had laughed while he begged for his life.

Ethan's fingers twitched at his sides.

And then—

Damian laughed.

A sharp, arrogant sound.

And just like that, Ethan's vision blurred, his breath coming out in slow, uneven bursts.

He remembered that laughter.

It had echoed in his ears as he had struggled to breathe.

It had filled the empty room while they broke him.

It had been the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

"They think you're dead."

The system's voice was steady, cold.

"They think they won."

Damian was smirking now, leaning against a stone bench, completely unaware that the boy he had killed was watching him.

"That little rat finally did something useful and died."

The words sent a shock through Ethan's entire body.

For a moment, everything else faded.

All the voices, all the movement around him—gone.

All he could hear was his own heartbeat, slow and deadly.

All he could see was them.

Laughing.

Mocking him.

Still living their perfect lives.

Ethan's hands clenched into fists.

His nails dug into his palms, but no blood spilled.

Because he wasn't weak anymore.

He couldn't be weak anymore.

"Claim vengeance."

The whisper curled around him, pulling him deeper into its grasp.

"Make them fear."

"Make them suffer."

Ethan swallowed hard.

For a brief moment, he let himself imagine it—

Damian's eyes, wide with terror.

Tyler, Mason, and Jake screaming for mercy.

The way he had screamed.

The way no one had listened.

The urge was overwhelming.

The need to tear into them, to rip away their arrogance, to make them feel the pain they had given him.

He could do it.

Right here.

Right now.

He could end them all before they even realized what was happening.

His new strength was unnatural.

His speed was inhuman.

They wouldn't stand a chance.

He could drag Damian into the shadows and sink his teeth into his throat before he could even beg.

The thought sent a shiver through Ethan's body.

His hunger stirred.

But he forced it down.

No.

Not yet.

Not here.

A quick death would be too easy.

Too merciful.

They hadn't killed him in an instant.

They had taken their time.

They had enjoyed it.

And now, he would do the same.

His lips curled slightly—not in a smile, but something else. Something dark.

He would wait.

He would watch.

He would let them live in their blissful ignorance, believing they were safe.

And when the time was right—

He would take everything from them.

One by one.

Until there was nothing left.

Ethan exhaled slowly, his trembling stopping.

His heart no longer raced.

His rage no longer consumed him.

Instead, it settled deep in his bones, heavy and cold.

"You are not the same anymore."

The voice in his head was no longer a whisper.

It was a truth.

And Damian?

He had no idea what was coming for him.

With one last glance at the monsters who had made him, Ethan turned and walked away, vanishing into the shadows.

Tomorrow, the hunt would begin.