3. A Night of Terror

The night air was cold. The kind of cold that got into your bones. The kind that made your skin sting. The kind that made your breath come out in white smoke. Ethan shivered as he walked through the empty school grounds. His arms were wrapped around himself for warmth.

He had stayed late in the library. He wanted to avoid the others. He wanted to avoid them. But he knew it would not work.

They always found him.

His stomach felt sick as he walked faster toward his dormitory. The lights in the main building were low. The hallways were quiet. Most students were already in their rooms. They were safe. They were warm. They had not been touched.

But he would never be safe.

Then he heard a sound. Footsteps behind him.

Ethan stopped. His heart pounded in his ears. He turned around. His breath stopped.

No one.

Just the dark. Just the long empty hallway behind him.

Maybe he was making it up. Maybe his mind was lying. Maybe his head was full of ghosts and bad memories.

He forced his legs to move. Faster now. Almost running.

Then—

A hand grabbed his collar and pulled him back.

Ethan gasped. His back hit something hard.

Before he could scream a rough hand covered his mouth.

"Going somewhere freak"

It was Damian's voice. It was low. It sounded like he was having fun.

Fear exploded inside Ethan. He tried to fight. But more hands grabbed him. They pushed him forward. His legs kicked but it was useless. They dragged him through the hall. They dragged him out the back door. Into the cold.

The old dormitory stood ahead. The building had been closed for years. They said it was too dangerous. The floors were weak. The windows were broken. There were no cameras. There were no teachers.

There were no witnesses.

Ethan's breath came out in fast gasps. They dragged him inside. The air smelled like dust and mold.

Then—boom.

The door slammed shut.

He was trapped.

They threw him down. His knees hit the wooden floor. Pain ran up his legs.

Laughter filled the room.

"You really thought you could run huh" Logan said. He cracked his knuckles.

Ethan tried to get up. His arms were shaking. "Please" he whispered. "Just let me go"

Damian crouched in front of him. His smile was sharp. His face looked cruel. "Let you go" He tilted his head like he was thinking. "But we have not even started"

Ethan's stomach turned. "I I will not tell anyone. I swear"

Damian laughed. "Oh we know you will not"

Then the first punch hit him.

A fist hit Ethan's ribs. It knocked the air out of him. He fell to the side. Pain spread through his body.

Then another hit.

And another.

Boots hit his stomach. His back. His legs. Each kick brought new pain.

He tried to scream. But his voice was lost under their laughter.

"Look at him" Marcus said. "Crying like a little girl"

Tears burned Ethan's eyes. His vision went blurry. His fingers grabbed the floor. He searched for something to hold.

But there was nothing.

Just pain.

Just them.

A boot came down on his hand.

Crack.

Ethan screamed. It was loud. It was broken. It was full of pain.

They laughed more. More hands grabbed him. They pulled his hair. They slammed his head into the floor.

The world started to spin. His ears rang. His body did not feel like his own anymore. It was just a thing. A thing they were breaking. One piece at a time.

"Pathetic" Damian said. "You are not even fighting back"

Ethan gasped. His chest moved fast. He wanted to fight. He really did. But what could he do. He was weak. He was helpless. He was just a toy for them.

Damian crouched beside him. He grabbed his jaw. "You know Ethan" he said in a quiet voice. His breath was hot near Ethan's ear. "Sometimes I think you like this"

Ethan made a small sound.

Damian smiled. "I mean why else would you keep coming back for more"

A hand grabbed his hair. A sharp pull. His head went back.

"Tell me" Damian said. "Do you enjoy being our punching bag"

Ethan shut his eyes tight. "No" he said. His voice was small. "Please"

"Please" Damian said. He made fun of him. "Please what. Stop"

He leaned closer. "Why should we stop"

Ethan's breath stopped. He had no answer.

Damian let out a sigh. "Guess we are not done yet"

The beating went on.

More fists. More kicks.

His ribs felt like fire. His head hurt. His fingers could not move right.

After some time the pain felt far away. Like it was not his pain. Like it was someone else.

His mind started to drift.

He heard his mother's voice. Soft and warm. Be strong my love.

He thought of her hands. He thought of her hug. It felt safe.

He wanted to go home.

But he had no home now.

Another hit. Another burst of pain.

His vision went dark.

He barely felt them stop.

He barely heard them laughing as they stood over him.

"Damn" Logan said. "Did we go too far"

"Nah" Damian said. He stretched like it was nothing. "He is still breathing"

Ethan did not move when they searched his pockets. They took what little money he had.

"Let's go" Damian said. "Leave the trash here"

Footsteps. Fading laughter.

Then silence.

Ethan lay there. He was not really awake. He was not really alive.

The cold touched his skin. It reached into his broken bones. His breaths were short. They were weak.

One thought stayed in his mind.

This is how I die.

Alone.

Forgotten.

Unwanted.

Tears slid down his face. They mixed with the blood on the floor.

And then—

Darkness.