"Nesta?"
Rhea blinked.
Before Elira could say anything else, the door barged open and Callista rushed in, breathless and wide-eyed. "In all my years of living, I have never been this close to losing my mind. This is the second time I've found you unconscious in some isolated area around the academy. Oh, thank the stars you're okay."
Callista didn't wait for permission before embracing her roommate, clutching her as if she might disappear again. Being in the safety of her friend's embrace made Elira's emotions surge, and the tears she fought so hard to hold back slipped free like a dam, soaking into Callista's shoulder.
If it were anyone else, Callista would have shoved them aside for trying to ruin her perfect uniform, but since she had an obviously soft spot for her Elira, she let her cry her feelings out without interruptions. If it was the uniform, she'd make someone do a good laundry job on it.
Her eyes darted to Rhea who rose from the edge of the bed. She brushed her hands against her skirt as if she was dusting off some invisible weight, and something about her didn't seem right.
"Look after your friend," she murmured to Callista with a smile before turning her back on them to head to the door.
"Wait– where are you going?" Callista called after her, but Rhea had already left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving her to stare at the absence of Rhea, and a strange feeling gnawed at her senses. She wondered how Rhea could maintain such a calm– almost unbothered composure all the freaking time.
She didn't understand that girl, and even though Rhea was the one who found Elira unconscious, there was no trace of panic or worry in her expression. It was almost like finding a discarded toy on the floor and deciding to keep it simply because you wanted to.
Whatever Rhea was up to would have to wait. Right now, Elira needed her more. And whatever pain had carved its way into her friend's heart, it wasn't something she could face alone. Yes, she was scared for her, cause she didn't want her dearest friend to end up like Lila Ashbourne.
Unfortunately, being a senior and part of the art department meant she couldn't always be around. But the least she could do was speak to Nesta this time, and convince her to leave Elira alone. She had traumatized the poor girl enough. Going to that witch would bruise her pride, sure, but if that was the only way to keep Elira safe from more humiliation and harm, then so be it.
Meanwhile, in the science department, Rhea ascended the staircase to the second floor– which was a level almost exclusively reserved for senior students. Her presence alone drew attention like a spark in dry grass, and the conversations stalled.
All eyes tracked her movements, and the hallway buzzed with an undercurrent of curiosity and disbelief. The student there knew that anyone below the senior level weren't allowed to come up here, not even by accident, unless they were summoned.
But Rhea walked with purpose.
Fingers were being subtly pointed in her direction, and more than a few students glanced from their phones to her, and back again. The stares didn't unsettle Rhea, but the fact that everyone here seemed to know her before she'd even learn their names irked her for some reason.
However, she hadn't come here for the gossips or attention, but she was here to retrieve the crutches that Nesta had cruelly taken from her disabled roommate. If she wanted to be honest, she didn't even give a damn about those damn crutches, but it was certainly an excuse to finally connect her fist on Nesta's bitch face.
"Screw the damn week," she murmured to herself as she turned and pushed open the door to the classroom she knew she'd find Nesta in. As she stepped inside, the room quieted, and the students lazying about fixed their attention on her.
Her eyes darted to Nesta who was currently sitting at the back, flanked by her two-ever present companion who were still holding on to Elira's crutches. It was obvious whatever got them laughing was probably them reminiscing about what they had done to innocent Elira, but the laughter soon died in their throat when they spotted Rhea.
At first, there was no reaction, but then Stacy gasped, her eyes widening as if coming to the conclusion that she wasn't imagining Rhea's presence in the classroom. Although they had actually thought about Rhea showing up to get the crutches for her friend, they never believed she would be brave enough to actually pull it off.
"Isn't that– the nerve," Stacy hissed, sliding off the table she was sitting on. "This ugly bitch really doesn't know her place around here, does she? You have some audacity coming in—"
But she stopped talking when Nesta raised her hand, as if telling her not to speak any further. Even though she was frustrated to her bones, cause she wanted to be the one to teach Rhea a lesson, she listened to Nesta's orders and remained quiet. Clearly, this wasn't her moment, since Nesta had already claimed it.
Without uttering a word, Nesta simply rose from her seat and approached Rhea. She casually gripped one of Elira's crutches in her hand, as though it were just another object. But her posture, sharp and coiled like a blade, said otherwise. Not even her own classmates dared to intervene.
She lifted a brow coolly and asked, "Let me guess. You've come crawling for your whore friend's crutch?"
"There's this saying," Rhea said thoughtfully with the brightest, undettered look on her face, her voice light and airy. "Only a fool can recognize another fool– without realizing they themselves are the real fool." Then, noticing the dangerous shade of red painting Nesta's raging face, she added. "Don't give me that look. I didn't say you're a fool, of course."
Flashing a smile that only seemed to aggravate Nesta, without much hesitation, she extended her hands, palms open for the taking. "The crutch," she requested expectantly.
Nesta looked around the classroom, unsure of what was going through everyone's head, but one thing was certain, she couldn't let her reputation be ruined by a newbie. She took a deep breath as if to calm herself, then she glanced down at the crutch in her hand as if only now realizing she held it. Slowly, she extended it forward, her voice flat. "Fine. Here, take it, since you want it that badly."
Stacy couldn't believe that Nesta was going to hand it over. She watched as Rhea reached out to take the crutch, but before she could grab hold of it, Nesta's fingers tightened. In a flash, she yanked it back from Rhea's reach and twisted it in her grip. Then, without warning, drove the crutch straight into Rhea's stomach.
The impact stole the air from Rhea's lungs, and she folded forward with a sickening thud. Before anyone else could react, Nesta swung again, this time, landing a brutal blow to Rhea's back.
Chaos erupted, and gasps echoed across the room. Desks screeched as students jumped up, scattering in every direction to avoid getting hit as well. They knew better than to linger, and when Nesta snapped, it was never just a warning, but war instead.
"Lock the doors!" Nesta commanded coldly, glancing at the entire class. But it was Mirene who bolted eagerly to toward the door, shutting it with a loud metallic click.
The atmosphere in the classroom shifted in an almost charged, claustrophobic manner. In the center of the room, Rhea had collapsed to her knees, her arms cradling her stomach as if trying to contain something fractured within. Around her, the students made no attempts to help or call anyone. They had seen this before. The legend of Nesta's brutality wasn't a secret, but the students felt that Rhea had actually brought this situation upon herself by coming to look for Nesta in the first place, so why should they intervene?
Meanwhile, Nesta prowled in a slow predatory circle around Rhea, the rubber tips of the crutches clicking against the tiled floor in rhythm with her steps.
"You've always had a mouth too big for your own good, I guess every filthy Ashbourne is the same," she sneered. Then with a sudden lurch, she brought the crutch down on Rhea's back. The thud echoed through the silent room, and Rhea's body jerked, but she didn't cry out.
"You want the crutches that badly?" Nesta snarled, raising them again. "Fine, because you'll be needing them for real this time."
From the corners of the room, Stacy and Mirene exchanged smirk, a vindictive, petty satisfaction lighting their eyes. They brought out their phones to also record the moment, knowing this would be a blast on the Nova website. What they didn't know was that the storm they were witnessing had only just begun to rise.
Before Nesta could land a fourth hit, a laughter broke the silence. It sounded low and hoarse at first, then louder, twisting into something manic and unhinged. It was the kind of laughter that didn't belong to a girl who just got beaten, and watching Rhea laugh like that made everyone's skin in the room turn cold.
She raised her head, her sunglasses slipping from her face and clattering to the floor. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the red in them was deeper now, in an almost unsettling way.
"That was three hits," she said through her laughter, lifting three fingers. Her voice trembled with delight. "Three. My goodness. What a fool you actually turned out to be in the end! You fell right into my trap! All I needed from you was three hits! You dummies!"
Her laughter only made everyone stare in pure disbelief. Those three strikes Nesta delivered was no joke. But Rhea didn't look like she was in any kind of pain, and her voice bore no weakness at all.
Nesta's smile faltered at the unhinged sight, her confidence replaced by a flicker of unease. But her rage soon took over her uncertainty to step back. She lifted the crutch and intended to drive them into Rhea with full force, but to her horror, Rhea moved too quickly.
Rolling out of the way, she surged to her feet and launched a sharp kick to Nesta's abdomen, the blow landing with brutal accuracy, and it folded Nesta in half.
The crutch slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor as the force of Rhea's kick took over. The pain she felt… just from a single kick… no, it was more than that. It affected her body so much that she couldn't stand upright.
Caught in disbelief, shock and horror, her eyes fell to the fair hand that picked up the crutch from the floor. She lifted her gaze to find Rhea standing over her, a predatory grin flashing across her lips, cold and unmistakably sadistic.
"You've been doing it all wrong," she uttered, her sweet voice now sounding like cold iron. "Let me show you how it's done."
And then she swung.
The crutch cracked against Nesta's face with a sickening snap, drawing blood instantly. She reeled backwards from the impact, a cry of pain escaping from her lips as blood splattered across the floor.
"Let me introduce myself," Rhea declared, planting her foot on Nesta's head while keeping her eyes locked on her. "I'm Rhea Ashbourne– remember the name, because from this moment, I'm the nightmare you won't be able to wake up from."