Interrupted Fury.
1569 Words
Rowena's POV. 7.
Interrupted Fury.
Students queued in line to get food with trays in their hands.
Damn. Another thing I hate.
"Row, I told you we should have gone outside the school to get food, and now I'm so hungry I can’t wait any longer," Cindy sighed, raising her head over my shoulder to peek at the counter.
"I don’t have enough, okay? Dad didn’t give me much this month. Let’s just wait a little; it’ll be our turn soon," I said, forcing a smile.
Cindy had already stuck her spoon into her mouth, her eyes widening as if she was trying to swallow all the food at the counter just by looking at it.
"Duhhh," I muttered, tapping her forehead with my finger.
"Row… hey, it’s our turn now," she pointed out.
Just as we stretched out our trays to the school chef..—
Rachel appeared.
And, as usual, she wasn’t alone. Her little minions marched in sync behind her like some damn parade.
Without hesitation, without even blinking my way, she shoved my tray aside.
Damn.
"Is there something wrong here?" I asked immediately, my brows furrowing as I grabbed her by the arm.
She turned slowly, looking at me. There wasn’t a smile. Not even a forced one.
"How dare you touch me? Huh? Who even gave you that right?" she snapped, her voice sharp and cutting.
"What do you mean, Rachel? You obviously saw it was our turn to get food, and you just cut in line. Don’t you think you should wait like everyone else?" I snapped back.
I wasn’t going to flinch because of her. Never.
"If you want food so badly, you can get in line or at least ask before shoving yourself in here," I added, my voice steady, though I suddenly felt a sharp pinch at my back.
Cindy.
A signal for me to stop talking.
Rachel smirked. "Well, well, well… look who’s suddenly found a backbone." She started clapping slowly, and as if on cue, heads turned toward us, attention shifting in our direction.
I clenched my jaw. Here we go again.
Rachel's followers grinned, all smug and anticipating something bad. They were like little hyenas, just waiting for the kill.
"Rach, teach her a lesson. She needs to know her place," one of them drawled, the word 'place' dripping with venom.
Rachel scoffed, folding her arms. "She actually thinks she can talk back? Being a top student is really going to that big head of yours, huh?" She stepped closer, invading my space, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. My mouth went dry.
Before I could even stammer a response, Cindy jumped in front of me, her face pale. She held her hands up, like she was trying to physically separate us.
"I’m sorry, Rach… um… please forgive my friend," she pleaded, her voice surprisingly steady, her hands pressed together like she was praying.
"What?" Rachel let out this harsh, cruel laugh. "What the hell is wrong with almost everyone in this school? No one knows their place anymore. Just a bunch of weirdos everywhere."
Then, completely out of nowhere, she shoved Cindy. Hard. Cindy went flying, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. My breath caught in my throat. Rachel tossed her hair back, smirking like she'd just won an award, and the crowd around us exploded with laughter. They were enjoying this.
"What the hell did you do that for?" I snapped, anger finally overriding my fear. I knelt down immediately to help Cindy up. My hands were shaking.
Rachel just rolled her eyes, like I was the one inconveniencing her. "I was dealing with one annoyance, and another one just got in my way," she spat, her eyes cold.
I helped Cindy stand behind me, using my body to shield her. Adrenaline was pumping through me now. "Who the hell do you think you are, huh? What gives you the right to treat people like this?"
For a second, I forgot who Rachel was. I forgot the rumours, the whispers, the fear that always clung to her. I forgot the difference in our strength, our…everything.
She yanked her arm free from my grip like it was nothing. Then, before I could even register what was happening, her hand shot out, grabbing the back of my head. She forced me to tilt my face up toward hers, her grip like a vise.
"What the f**k?" I gasped, struggling against her hold. My scalp was burning where she was holding me.
Rachel's face twisted, her lips curving into this sinister, knowing smirk. "Did you suddenly forget who I am? Did you forget that I’m f*****g different from you pathetic humans?" Her voice was low, a dangerous growl that vibrated right through me. And then… her fangs lengthened, and her eyes… they glowed red. An eerie, terrifying red.
"R-Rachel…" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the anger.
She smiled wickedly – and then slashed her claws across my face.
Pain exploded. I screamed, falling backward, hitting the ground hard.
"Ahhh—!" I curled up, clutching my face, the sharp, burning sting radiating through my skin. I could feel the wetness of blood.
The laughter around me grew louder, echoing in my ears. It was a mocking, cruel sound.
Rachel stood above me, looking down with a satisfied smirk. She was enjoying my pain.
I don’t know why you can’t just mind your damn business.” Rachel’s voice dripped with irritation. “You’re always poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
She circled me like a predator, slow and deliberate, her heels clicking against the floor. Then, with a casual sweep of her hands, she dusted her palms together, as if ridding them of filth.
I was still curled up on the cold floor, my body trembling from the sting radiating across my cheek. The metallic taste of blood coated my tongue. Maybe she was right. Maybe I never did mind my own business.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, but they betrayed me, slipping down my face.
“Rachel…” I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t keep doing this…”
She paused.
Then, slowly, her lips curled into a sly grin.
Without breaking eye contact, she crouched before me, her movements slow, taunting. The air around us thickened with an unspoken warning. Her cold fingers gripped my chin, tilting my face up to hers.
I inhaled sharply.
Her fangs—long, sharp—hovered just close enough to brush against my skin. Close enough to break it if she wanted. My entire body tensed. Every nerve, every muscle, locked in place. Fear gripped me so tightly it felt like my organs had turned to stone.
Rachel’s eyes flickered with amusement. “Who says I can’t?” she murmured. “After all, I came to get food. And you got in my way.”
I swallowed hard. “No… no, that’s a lie,” I whispered, shaking my head in defiance, even as my throat tightened.
Rachel clicked her tongue. “No,” she said, her voice sweet and venomous. “That’s the truth.”
Her grip on my chin tightened, nails digging into my skin.
"You got in my way, you stupid little girl.”
Then she let go, shoving my face to the side like I was nothing.
Laughter echoed around me.
And I stayed there, my body shaking, humiliated, bleeding—hating her.
Hating myself.
“I didn’t come in your f*****g way… you’re the problem,” I spat, my voice hoarse but loud enough to reach her ears. I wanted her to hear me. To know that I wasn’t afraid to speak.
Rachel paused suddenly.
Then, in a flash, she moved.
Her hand shot forward, wrapping around my throat like a vice, fingers pressing against my windpipe. My breath hitched. Her other hand—claws extended, fangs glistening—drew back, poised to s***h across my face.
I clenched my fists.
Shut my eyes.
No.
I braced for the pain.
I screamed.
But it never came.
Rachel’s claws never met my skin.
Instead, something stopped her.
I cracked my eyes open, my vision blurred from the tears that had glued to my lashes. My breath came in shaky, uneven gasps.
Rachel wasn’t looking at me anymore.
Her head was tilted up, her expression caught between shock and irritation, eyes locked on the person who had seized her wrist mid-air.
I turned my head, slowly, cautiously.
It wasn’t Jason.
It wasn’t some passing student who’d mustered the courage to intervene.
No.
It was Adrian.
The new guy.
The one who had helped me earlier.
He stood there, his grip firm around Rachel’s wrist, his posture steady. There was no hesitation in his stance—just raw, effortless strength.
His dark eyes burned cold, impossible to read. His brown hair, which had been slightly tousled earlier, now fell neatly to the side, almost as if the shift in his demeanor had smoothed it into place.
Rachel yanked against his grip, but he didn’t budge.
“What the f**k is going on here, Rach?” Adrian’s voice was low, sharp, and flat.
It wasn’t a question.
It was an order.
How does he know Rachel? He's fresh in School. Do they already know each other?
- Writer
