His Dark Reign

5. First Blood

The day after Adam’s return began with a whisper of unease in the hallways. People still watched him with fascination, but the curiosity had shifted into something heavier.

The boy who had been forgotten, mocked, shoved into lockers, was suddenly a topic at every table, in every group chat.

Some admired him. Others feared him. And Sanchez… Sanchez glared from a distance, his confidence cracking in hairline fractures.

He wasn’t letting go so easily.

At lunch, Sanchez threw a grape across the cafeteria, bouncing it off Adam’s tray. His friends laughed. A petty move, but everyone saw it. Sanchez needed to reassert himself.

Adam didn’t flinch. He picked up the grape, rolled it between his fingers, and then placed it back on Sanchez’s table. His voice carried just enough to be heard.

“Careful, Sanchez. Playing with food is a sign of weakness.”

The cafeteria erupted in a mix of laughter and gasps. A few kids even clapped. Sanchez’s face flushed, but he masked it with a forced grin.

Malick’s voice hissed in Adam’s head. You humiliate him with words now, but humiliation is fleeting. Blood is forever.

Adam smirked, feeling the hunger gnawing at him. Soon, he thought.

It was Derek who  Adam wanted revenge on  first.

Adam had planted the seed yesterday, forcing Derek to publicly call him “cool.”

Today, Malick whispered, it was time to water that seed—with blood.

---

The opportunity came after lunch.

Derek stayed late in the cafeteria, cramming fries into his mouth while scrolling through his phone. His friends had already left. He was alone when Adam approached, sliding into the seat across from him without asking.

“Hey,” Adam said simply.

Derek froze mid-bite, swallowing hard. “Uh. Hey, man.” His eyes darted nervously around the empty tables. “You need something?”

Adam leaned back, arms folded. “Yeah. I need you to do more than call me cool.” His tone was soft, measured, but underneath it pulsed a current of threat.

Derek laughed nervously. “I mean, yeah, sure. I can—”

“No.” Adam’s voice cut him off. “Actions, Derek. Words are cheap.”

The room seemed to dim, shadows stretching long across the linoleum floor. Derek blinked, rubbing his eyes as though the light had changed.

“W-what do you want me to do?”

Adam tilted his head, studying him like a specimen. He could feel Malick’s hand coiling tighter around his thoughts. The voice purred inside his mind: Make him pay. Make him bleed, and they will all see you.

Adam’s lips curved. “Do you remember when you shoved me in front of everyone? When you dumped that tray all over me? When you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe?”

Derek paled. “Dude, I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t erase it.” Adam’s voice dropped lower, colder. “But maybe blood will.”

Derek shot up from his seat, backing away. “You’re… you’re scaring me, man.”

Adam stood too, slow and calm, his shadow spilling unnaturally long across the floor. Derek stumbled toward the back exit of the cafeteria. Adam followed, steady, patient, each step echoing like a drumbeat.

They reached the deserted hallway near the supply closet. Derek spun around, breathing hard.

“Okay, okay—look, I messed up, alright? I was an asshole. But you’re—you’re different now. People like you. You don’t need to do this.”

Adam’s eyes gleamed, the faintest glimmer of red flickering in them. “That’s where you’re wrong. I do need this. I need everyone to understand.”

His hand shot out, faster than he thought possible, slamming Derek against the lockers. The boy wheezed, eyes wide, struggling. Adam’s grip tightened around his throat—not trembling with weakness like it once would have, but steady, fueled by Malick’s dark strength.

Derek clawed at Adam’s hand, panic wild in his eyes. “P-please—Adam—”

“Say it,” Adam hissed. “Say what you did. Loud.”

“I—I made fun of you,” Derek gasped. “I humiliated you!”

“Louder.”

“I humiliated you!” Derek screamed, voice cracking. His words echoed down the empty hallway. Tears streaked down his face.

Adam’s grin widened. “And what happens to people who humiliate me?”

Derek’s sobs broke into desperate gasps. “They—they pay—”

“Correct.”

The shadows surged, wrapping Adam’s arm like black smoke. His grip tightened. Derek’s face turned red, veins bulging in his temples. The sight filled Adam with a dark euphoria. For once, he was the one in control. For once, someone else begged for mercy.

Do it, Malick whispered, intoxicating and cruel. End him. Let the blood open the path.

Adam’s heart pounded, torn between the boy he used to be and the predator rising inside him. His hand trembled for a moment, humanity clinging desperately. But then Derek choked out one final plea—“Please, don’t tell anyone”—and something in Adam snapped.

With a violent twist, Adam slammed Derek’s head against the metal lockers. A sickening crack echoed. Derek went limp, sliding to the floor in a heap. His chest rose faintly—alive, but broken.

Adam stood over him, breathing hard, exhilaration coursing through his veins. His own reflection gleamed in the locker door—eyes glowing faintly red, lips curled into a predator’s smile.

Malick’s laughter filled his skull, rich and triumphant. Yes. Yes. That is the taste. The first stone has fallen. The avalanche begins.

Adam crouched down, whispering into Derek’s ear. “This is only the start. If you breathe a word, I’ll finish what I started. And no one will stop me.”

Then he rose, smoothing his shirt, and walked calmly down the hall as if nothing had happened.

Behind him, Derek lay crumpled and whimpering, a warning written in blood and bruises.

That night, Adam stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His face was sharper, more handsome, almost glowing with vitality. But his eyes… his eyes burned faintly red in the dim light.

Malick’s voice purred like a serpent coiled around his spine.

Yes… that’s it. One by one, they will fall. And you will rise. Until Sanchez himself is nothing but ash under your feet.

Adam touched the mirror, his smile cold.

“The wolf has begun to hunt.”

And for the first time, Adam felt untouchable.