The Bullied Prodigy

CHAPTER FOUR

My gaze was fixed on the screen.

Just those two words: Yes / No.

Simple. Plain. But they felt like a loaded gun pointed straight at me.

My thumb hovered, shaking. Every logical part of my brain screamed Don't. This was insane. Creepy. Probably illegal. I should delete the message, block the number, call the bank, call the cops, do something normal.

But then again, normal never got me anywhere. Not when normal meant watching my grandmother cough through the night because we couldn’t afford the good medicine. Not when normal meant skipping meals so she could eat. Not when normal meant walking to school with my shoes coming apart and pretending it didn’t bother me when Jordan and his gang laughed at me in front of everyone.

$50,000 wasn’t normal.

And maybe… neither was I.

I took a shaky breath, the air thick in my throat. Then, I tapped Yes.

Nothing happened.

No confetti, no dramatic music. Just the message disappearing, like it had never been there.

I stared at the screen for a full minute, my pulse ringing so loud that I could hear them in my ears.

Had I just sold my soul?

Another buzz.

A new message.

> [Thank you, Mr. Turner. Your acceptance has been recorded. Expect the first task within 24 hours. We are watching.]

My stomach clenched.

“We are watching.”

I looked around my small kitchen like someone might be peeking in through the cracked window above the sink. The shadows didn’t move. The fridge hummed. My own reflection in the dark glass of the oven door looked back at me—tense, pale, eyes wide with fear.

I should’ve been scared.

Hell, I was scared.

But underneath that fear was something else. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Excitement.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel powerless.

I didn’t sleep that night. I lay on the ratty couch in the living room, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding as questions raced through my head. Who were they? What did they want? Was this really about family? Some long-lost bloodline inheritance I never knew about? Or was it something darker?

By morning, the fear had settled into a tight ball in my stomach. But so had the determination.

Whatever this was—I was going to see it through. I had to.

I didn’t tell my grandmother anything. She was already tired from her night shift at the diner, and I couldn’t burden her with something I didn’t even understand yet. She kissed me on the forehead and mumbled something about eggs before retreating to her room to sleep.

I packed my bag slowly, checking my phone every few seconds like I was waiting for a bomb to go off.

8:13 AM.

Still nothing.

8:47 AM.

Nothing.

9:02.

Buzz.

I flinched, snatching the phone like it might burn me.

Another message.

> [Your first task begins now. Go to Locker 209 at Crestwood High. Inside, you’ll find a sealed envelope. Do not open it until you’re alone. This message will delete in 10 seconds.]

I barely finished reading it before it vanished.

I stared at the blank screen.

Locker 209?

That wasn’t my locker. It wasn’t even on my usual route through school. But I knew where it was. Near the science wing. Mostly unused.

Who had access to it? How had they?

I didn't wait for the dawn of a new day. It could barely see when I set out of the house.

I caught the early bus with my heart in my throat, feeling like every glance from a stranger was someone checking if I’d followed the rules. Like any wrong move would get me pulled into a van and vanished forever.

When I stepped through the school doors, everything felt... silent. There was no laughter in the hallway, no slamming of lockers. I walked glancing right behind me trying to locate the mystery locker.

But then, I heard a croaking voice right behind me and I know immediately who it was.

“Hey, loser!”

Jordan’s voice cut through the air like a whip. He sauntered past with his crew, elbowing me hard in the shoulder. I stumbled but kept walking, kept my eyes ahead. Normally, I’d have shrunk back or muttered something useless.

Today, I didn’t even flinch.

He didn’t matter.

None of them did.

Not anymore.

I slipped through the side hall and found Locker 209. The padlock was missing. In its place was a simple tag with my name written in pen—Eli T.

I swallowed.

This was real.

I opened it.

Inside was a sealed brown envelope. No markings. No name. Just thick paper and the smell of something faintly metallic.

I grabbed it and closed the locker, heart hammering like a jackhammer in my chest.

I bolted to the back stairwell—my hideout when I needed to disappear. I sat on the cold step and peeled the envelope open.

Inside was a folded sheet of paper and a black credit card.

I froze.

The card was matte black, no numbers, no chip, no logo. Just a silver insignia on one side: a stylized wolf’s head.

I set it aside and read the letter.

> Mr. Turner,

You’ve taken the first step. What comes next will define your legacy.

This card grants you access to funds, resources, and connections available only to members of the Turner Line. Use it wisely. The world will notice when you rise.

[ Task One: Make a transaction today. Anything. Prove you're ready to break from your past. ]

We are watching.

No name. No signature.

Just those last four words again.

We are watching.

I leaned back against the wall, mind racing. A transaction? That was it? Just... use the card?

I panicked. I felt my heart beating fast. Not from being scared but because of what I could do with the card.

If the message was right then I have unlimited access to wealth. Money beyond my wildest dream.

I picked it up, the surface cool and smooth in my palm.

This wasn’t just about the money. It was a test. A way to see if I’d follow through.

I stared at it for a long moment before sliding it into my wallet.

By lunch, I knew what I’d do.

I walked to the cafeteria, ignoring the stares and whispers. I wasn’t going to buy food—I had a peanut butter sandwich in my bag.

But I walked up to the register anyway.

The cashier looked bored until I placed the black card on the counter.

“I’ll pay for everyone in line,” I said.

She blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Everyone. Put it all on this.”

She looked at the card, then at me. I waited.

She swiped.

And then nothing.

"Try again." I said looking at her face anxiously.