Prince Of Mind Hallucinations

Chapter 10: A Mysterious Figure in the Corner of Campus

Raditya walked with a slight limp, not because his legs hurt, but because his brain felt like it had just been soaked in a vat of boiling battery acid. The chaotic aftermath of the cafeteria incident left a parasitic ringing in his skull. Every whisper, every suppressed urge, and every petty grudge he had intercepted was still spinning like a broken record in his mind. Becoming ridiculously hot was a blessing, but being a walking receiver for other people's thoughts was a curse that was driving him to the absolute brink of insanity.

He needed silence. He needed a dead zone where this cursed "thought-radio" would stop broadcasting everyone's filthy frequencies.

Raditya steered himself toward the back of the old Biology greenhouses. It was Liberty High's ultimate blind spot. There was nothing back there but a row of overgrown oak trees, an old sports equipment shed that rarely got unlocked, and a high brick wall covered in thick ivy. There, in a corner nearly forgotten by the daily high school drama, Raditya hoped to scrape together a little bit of sanity.

But the moment he dropped his heavy body onto a thick, exposed tree root, his sixth sense vibrated. It wasn't a violent tremor like Brad's angry internal voice or Jessica's demanding lust; it was a "hollow" pulse.

Raditya looked over toward an old wooden bench tucked against the brick wall. A girl was sitting there. Bianca.

She wasn't popular, but she wasn't exactly an outcast either. She was just... there. For the last two years, Bianca had been the kind of person whose face you forgot the second you looked away. She was reading a thick, black, title-less book, her heavy dark hair falling gracefully over her shoulders.

Raditya tried to do what had already become his new default instinct: he beamed his radar straight at her.

Zzzztt... Shhhhh...

Just static. Like a broken television searching for a signal in the dead of night. Raditya frowned. He tried to sharpen his focus, pushing deeper into the ten-foot radius around her.

"Why is there no sound?" Raditya muttered under his breath, his chest tight.

Usually, no matter the distance, as long as someone was in range, he would hear at least a fragment of a thought—complaining about hunger, obsessing over a crush, or just pure, unfiltered boredom. But Bianca? Zero. Void. Her head felt so entirely empty it was as if she wasn't even a living, breathing entity.

But before he could process the anomaly, a different mental frequency slammed into him with brutal force. A raw, explosive wave of scorching emotion radiated from the sports equipment shed just fifteen feet away.

"Ugh!" Raditya clutched his head. His telepathy was reacting to a massive spike in sexual hormones coming from whoever was locked inside that shed.

The signal belonged to Mr. Vance, the AP Physics teacher, and Ms. Russo, the art teacher and the school's most notorious young divorcée. Because the shed door was slightly ajar and Raditya's radar was currently dialed to maximum sensitivity, their mental projections completely bypassed his filters and flooded his brain.

The visualization detonated in front of his mind's eye as clearly as an IMAX movie screen.

Through his telepathic feed, Raditya watched Mr. Vance press Ms. Russo back against a dusty, leather vaulting horse inside the cramped shed. The smell of oil paint and old gym chalk mixed with a suffocating wave of pure lust. Mr. Vance, breathing heavily with an internal monologue that was just screaming I NEED THIS! I NEED THIS!, was violently tearing the buttons off Ms. Russo's floral blouse, exposing her chest straining against a contrasting, bright red lace bra.

Raditya could physically feel the beads of Mr. Vance's sweat dripping onto Ms. Russo's damp skin. In the projection, Ms. Russo was moaning wildly inside Mr. Vance's head—an internal whimper demanding more. Raditya watched Mr. Vance's large hands roughly grab her breasts, squeezing the flesh until her nipples hardened and flushed pink. Mr. Vance hoisted one of Ms. Russo's legs over his shoulder, unzipping his own slacks with hands that were shaking from primitive desire.

Now, do it now! Ms. Russo's internal voice screamed, intercepted flawlessly by Raditya's radar.

Raditya was forced to witness the mental playback as Mr. Vance thrust into Ms. Russo with a force so hard it made the vaulting horse groan in rhythm with their ragged breathing. The sound of slapping skin, the pungent smell of arousal, and the heat radiating between them were wired directly into Raditya's sensory nerves. He saw Ms. Russo's head tilt back in a sexual trance, her nails raking down Mr. Vance's back hard enough to draw blood. The rhythm grew faster, rougher, entirely lawless, filling the visual projection in Raditya's head with deafening groans and an overwhelming flood of sensory overload.

"Holy—!" Raditya gasped, his face burning crimson. His own anatomy instantly betrayed him, reacting to the feral stimuli of his teachers' brains with an uncomfortable, rock-hard erection straining against his jeans. It was the most explicit sensory assault he had endured all day.

In the midst of that nauseating, highly arousing mental earthquake, Raditya suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him.

He jolted, forcefully killing his radar as if yanking a plug out of a sparking socket. His breathing was heavy, cold sweat dampening his temples. Raditya turned his head back toward Bianca.

She was no longer reading. She had closed her book. Her clear, deep eyes were looking straight into his, as if she could see the entire chaotic movie that had just finished playing in his brain.

"You look... sweaty, Raditya," Bianca said softly. Her voice was crystal clear, flat, but somehow possessed a cooling effect that instantly soothed Raditya's "burned" nerves.

Raditya blinked rapidly, trying to neutralize the residual image of Ms. Russo bouncing on the vaulting horse. "H-huh? Oh, yeah... it's just really hot today. The AC in the cafeteria is busted."

Bianca smiled—so faintly that Raditya almost missed it. "Sometimes, listening too much makes your ears tired."

Raditya's heart practically stopped beating. "What do you mean?"

Once again, Raditya tried to "attack" Bianca's mind. He desperately needed to know if she was hinting at his powers or just speaking in cryptic metaphors. He gathered all his strength to pierce the "noise" barrier in her head.

Zzzzttttt...

Still dead silent. It felt like trying to peer into the bottom of an infinitely deep well. Absolute void.

"I can't hear anything," Raditya murmured unconsciously, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bianca stood up, clutching her black book tightly. She walked closer to him. Every step she took felt like an eraser wiping away the mental static from the surrounding area. When she was just three feet away, Raditya experienced a miracle: the phantom echoes of Ms. Russo's moans from the shed, the distant jealous thoughts of his classmates, Jessica's obsessive lust—it all vanished.

There was a "dead zone" surrounding Bianca. The radius was small, but it was incredibly powerful.

"Who... who are you, really?" Raditya asked, his eyes projecting a mix of deep suspicion and absolute awe. "Why can't I hear your thoughts? Why does everything go quiet when you're near?"

Bianca stopped right in front of him. She didn't smell like expensive perfume; she smelled like fresh paper and the crisp scent of rain on dry earth. It was intoxicatingly calming.

"The world is loud enough with lies, Raditya. Sometimes silence is the only honesty left," Bianca said. She glanced toward the equipment shed where the illicit signal had originated, then looked back at him. "Don't let other people's voices become your own."

Raditya was stunned. Before he could ask another question, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the biology corridor. Bianca calmly turned around.

"I'm gonna figure you out, B," Raditya called out softly.

Bianca paused, looking over her shoulder without fully turning back. "Look for it, if you have the courage to not hear the answers."

And with that, she walked away, disappearing around the corner of the Biology lab.

Raditya slumped back against the oak tree, but this time, the headache was completely gone. The area around Bianca had acted as a literal antidote for his brain. It wasn't just that she wasn't thinking of anything; it was as if she possessed a biological mechanism to "jam" telepathy.

Suddenly, the door to the equipment shed creaked open. Mr. Vance stepped out, his face slick with sweat and his tie completely crooked. A second later, Ms. Russo followed, hastily adjusting her messy hair with a deeply flushed face. Mr. Vance noticed Raditya sitting by the tree, and instantly, the physics teacher's internal radio started leaking garbage again:

Wait, what is that pretty-boy doing here? Don't tell me he heard Russo moaning in there? Oh God, I'm dead... I have to act tough so he doesn't get suspicious.

Raditya stood up, leaning against the tree with a smirk that felt significantly more dangerous than before. He didn't feel nauseous anymore. The mystery of Bianca had just given him a brand-new perspective on his power.

"Ahem. Good afternoon, Mr. Vance, Ms. Russo," Raditya said casually, his eyes deliberately locking onto the missing button on Ms. Russo's blouse—the exact one he'd seen pop off in the mental visualization. "Must have been a pretty intense afternoon workout in the shed, huh?"

Mr. Vance's face instantly drained of all color. "Y-you... watch your mouth, kid! Ms. Russo was just helping me... take inventory of the tennis rackets!"

Holy shit! He knows?! Why did it look like he stared straight through Russo's shirt?! I'm dead! My career is over! Mr. Vance's internal voice screamed in terror, creating a high-pitched static frequency.

Raditya chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, Mr. Vance. You can finish your 'inventory' later. I'm not gonna say a word. As long as... my AP Physics grade isn't something we ever need to debate when report cards come out."

Mr. Vance swallowed hard, unable to physically force a single word out of his mouth. He grabbed Ms. Russo's arm and practically sprinted away, their minds now completely flooded with ridiculous, terrified scenarios of being "blackmailed" by Raditya.

Raditya watched his two teachers disappear, but his true focus remained on the empty spot where Bianca had been standing just moments ago.

A girl with no thoughts. A prince with a million voices in his head. Their meeting wasn't a coincidence. Bianca wasn't just a mysterious figure; she was an oasis in the middle of a desert of lust-filled minds.

"Who exactly are you, Bianca?" Raditya whispered into the afternoon breeze.

He clenched his fists. His curiosity had now completely eclipsed his fear of the lightning. He realized one absolute truth: beneath his physical perfection and his terrifying telepathy, there was a much bigger secret hiding in this school, wrapped up tightly in Bianca's "silence."

And for the first time since waking up in the nurse's office, Raditya felt truly alive. Not because of the popular girls begging for his attention, and not because of the terrified teachers he could manipulate, but because he had finally found a challenge that couldn't be solved just by listening to the garbage inside someone's head.

Raditya started walking back toward the main building to catch his next class. But this time, his steps were lighter. He had a new target. Not a target for a date or a cheap hookup, but a target to uncover the real reason this god-tier power had been shoved into his brain.

Liberty High had just gotten infinitely more interesting for the hallucinating prince. Because now, he knew there was someone whose "silence" was louder and stronger than the millions of "screams" inside his own head.