The Apocalypse Playground: Chasing death

Prologue “Get off me!” “Fight! Fight! Fight!” “Get off me, you little fucker.” There was that word again, little fucker. There was no way I was letting him get away with it, not this time. Never again. In one fluid movement, I bashed my head against his forehead and watched as his eyes rolled back. There was a streak of blood oozing from his nose, it was thick, almost velvety. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” There it was again. The primal chant that always made me question whether human evolution was really complete or if it had ever happened at all. “I am…I am going-“ He was sputtering blood now, probably as a result of me hitting him in the stomach that one time. Okay, twice, or had it been more? Now, I was comfortably perched on top of him with my knees pressing firmly against his torso. He could not wriggle his way out, could not turn to rid himself of the blood in his mouth, and most importantly, he was forced to look at me as I defended myself, my honor. What was left of it, at least. “You are not so tough now, huh Ron?” A shower of blood merged with saliva suddenly erupted from Ron’s mouth. I felt some of the discharge land on my face; I did not flinch. “Eeeew!” “Gross!” “Did he just puke on him? That is straight-up vile…” I chuckled humorlessly as more and more students openly expressed their disgust. Beating someone until they were incapacitated was perfectly acceptable but spitting on a person’s face was where people drew the line? “My father…my father will…m-make your life a living-“ Before Ron could finish issuing his threat, I delivered a blow to his left cheek. That was enough to shut him up, that was enough to shut everyone up. And for a moment, I got my wish; the whole field was draped with silence. As I shakily stood up to assess the situation, I heard a piercing scream from the crowd, then another and another until the entire football arena was filled with a staccato of terrified screams. “What have you done, Blake! What did you do to my brother!”