World Eater

23

THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT HIM.

He could hear them, their hushed, accusing voices flinging insults at him from across the hall. Dead, glassy eyes glared at him from all angles. Alzar couldn't breathe.

Blood dribbled down his arm. He had been mercilessly picking at his skin for days, his brain unable to keep his restless fingers still. A shoulder rubbed past him, and Alzar felt sick to his stomach when the older, stockier boy turned around, grabbing the sleeve of his jersey.

“Hey, is this blood?” he snapped, his jaw clenching, “This is my new jersey!”

Alzar stumbled back, hugging his chest. “I, um-” His cheeks flashed hot, goosebumps crawling down his back.

“What, are you gonna cry again or something?”

Alzar’s hands suddenly tingled, the color draining from his face.

I could just kill him. The thought came so suddenly, Alzar didn't even know where it came from. Alzar could almost feel blood between his fingers. He clenched his fist, hot emotion pulsing through his veins.

Alzar flinched, coming back to his senses when he saw the boy’s face. What was he thinking? He couldn't kill someone!

----

“You seem upset, Alzar,” Fancy observed, resting her chin on her hand,”Tell me what happened.”

Alzar kept his head down, pushing his backpack over with his foot. “Today, in the hall...I wanted to, um, hurt someone.”

Fancy raised her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“It felt like I could kill him. I wanted to kill hi. I could kinda feel the blood, even though it wasn't there.” Nausea washed over Alzar as images filled his mind, bloody and unwanted.

“That's not something normal people feel, Alzar,” Fancy murmured, “I wouldn't tell that to anyone else if I were you. They will ostracize you.”

Alzar slid forward in his chair, closer to Fancy, “I know.”

“But I'm glad you told me. Unlike the outside of this office, you're safe here. You can tell me anything you feel, no matter how terrible.”

Terrible. The word manifested as a spike of pain in Alzar’s chest.

But how else could he describe himself?