AN: Sloane "Vyper" in media
"Sloane McBrennan," said a monotone voice from the front of the room I was sitting at. I looked up from my phone to find an old lady crooking her finger towards herself in a gesture for me to come forward. I groaned, pushing myself up and walking over. I looked over the counter and down at her.
"You're to see Mr. Faust now," she said sourly. I sniffed in disdain, walking deliberately slow towards the door that led to his office. "Ms. McBrennan, he doesn't have all day. Get going!"
Rolling my eyes, I walked quicker to the door. I twisted the doorknob and was met with a lovely looking office. It was done in shades of grey, white, and black. It was as clean cut as an FBI agent's suit and desk was situated in the far right corner of the room. A man sat behind it with his fingers in a steeple position. Thinning his lips, he made a gesture for me to sit down at the chair across from him.
Sighing, I took a seat. "Let's make this quick, I got places to be," I said to him, leaning back, crossing my arms and slumping back in the chair.
The man, Mr. Faust, sighed as well, "Can you please sit correctly?"
In response to that, I propped my sneakered feet up on the edge of the desk. "Like I said before, make it quick... Please."
"Sloane, do you know why you're here?" Mr. Faust asked. I shrugged, shifting my feet. The action caused dry dirt to flake onto the pristine white of the desk. Mr. Faust frowned at me, making it a scene to wipe the dirt off.
"You broke a printer with a punch," he reminded me.
Like I had really forgotten; I usually choose the silent way to deal with my principal. It was the best way to gain his sympathy. "Why, Sloane? Why?" he asked me.
I shrugged again, staring past his shoulder into the distance. Mr. Faust placed his hands on the desk, taking a deep breath. I knew what was coming; it happened the exact same every day I was in here. He would give the whole spiel about how he cared about me. Then he would mention why my parents made me move out when I was a junior last year. Next he would tell me that I was the only student he would be lenient for. Lastly, he would tell me to do better next time and dismiss me.
It was textbook simple, that principal...
"Okay, Sloane. This is it. I'm writing you an OSS," the principal told me, reaching for the drawer on the left side of his desk.
My stomach dropped angrily. I stood up, knocking the chair I was sitting in over. "What!? No!" I yelled indignantly. "Four years of you being nice to me and now you're treating me like I'm just another kid?!"
"You are just another kid. I'm not obligated to do anything for you!" Mr. Faust told me calmly. I felt anger boil up inside of me, and I had to force myself not to punch my principal. I clenched my fist instead. The principal finished writing my sentence and held out his hand, the piece of paper in it. He actually thought I was going to take it.
"Hell no! I'm not gonna serve it! I'm coming to school every day no matter what you tell me to do!" I retorted, swiping the slip of paper out of Mr. Faust's hand.
"Sloane McBrennan, you will serve this OSS or I will make you!" Mr. Faust yelled, shoving the slip into my hand, making it slam against my chest. I shoved it back towards him.
"The next time you touch me that printer won't be the only thing that's broke !" I hissed. Mr. Faust's usually serene brown eyes sparked in sudden anger.
"Go. Home," he whispered, deathly quiet.
I made a pouty face, "Aw, I'm sorry. I can't. That would be limiting my education." I smirked when I saw his jaw clench up. I hadn't gotten to him like this and boy did it feel satisfying.
"I will call the resource officer. I will take that threat you made to me to the authorities. Unless you go home!" he told me again, pointing towards the door. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. My gut told me to flip him off and stay put, but my mind was telling me that it wasn't a good idea.
I went with my mind, which was usually smarter. I whipped around and stormed out, fuming. I exited the school. My car was parked in the student parking lot, at the very back row where nobody would go. I hopped into the black '67 Chevy Impala, slamming the door harder than really necessary. Despite my sour mood, the car's smoothly running engine brought a smile to my face...
It was the only person who didn't look at me like I was about to punch them. He was my best friend, in my mind. Don't call me crazy, I know the car's an inanimate object. Sometimes it just takes my mind off of my shitty life, okay?
I pulled out of the school, glad that there was barely any traffic on the way to my apartment thirty minutes away. One unexciting drive later, I was pulling into the apartment building's parking lot.
I took the key out of the ignition and twirled it around my finger as I walked towards my place. It was on the top floor, up four flights of stairs. With practiced ease, I bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I arrived at my door, I opened it up with some difficulty; my door had been messed up when I threw a person against it. Because of this, the hinges had been bent to the point where I had to push against it if I wanted it to open.
I grunted, pushing my shoulder against the door. I finally gave way, and I stumbled into my home. I slammed it back into place before locking it again.
I slumped down on my couch, still mad at Mr. Faust. I read over the OSS form he gave me. "Three days," I muttered. "Three days stuck in this lame ass apartment. All because of that dick wad."
I simmered in my own angry juices for a little while before I finally decided that I'd get payback. With a devious smirk plastered on my face the entire time, I rummaged about in my small closet. A medium sized cardboard box in my hands, I felt a spike of excitement rise through my stomach.
I reached into the box and pulled out a can of neon yellow spray paint. I turned it around, admiring the potential beauty it contained within it.
With cunning thoughts running through my head, I headed down to my car.
And once in my car, I drove in silence towards Mr. Faust's house.
***
I stood at the front of Mr. Faust's house, the can of spray paint in my left hand. I was scanning the dark grey painted house, thinking of what I could paint onto it.
A lovely idea came to mind. It was so unbelievably clever I chuckled to myself.
I shook the can up, drawing to mind the sign of the most notorious gang in this part of town... the Triangle gang. Their symbol was simple and immediately distinguishable; a triangle with an X crossed through it. The diamond where the X met the triangle was shaded in.
I spray painted the symbol as big as I could on the front of his house. I looked over my shoulder to be sure nobody was watching, and finished it off with a big ole "FUCK YOU" underneath it...
This was great. Mr. Faust lived in a neighbourhood where the gangs frequently travelled. If they were to see this, he would be in a whole world of trouble... My work there was done.
I had parked my car outside the neighbourhood, in the parking lot of a gas station, to avoid suspicion. I walked on the sidewalk, my hands shoved into the pocket of my hoodie. Nobody was on the streets at this time of day. At least, that's what I thought.
A person with dark clothes came up to my right. The hood to their hoodie was pulled up so that I couldn't see their face. The hoodie had what looked like a school name printed on it in white, corroded font: "Deadlock". I readied myself to duck the punch that was sure to come...
But it didn't come.
Instead, the person reached into their pocket and produced a business card. It was glossy and black with white writing on it. I took it with some hesitation.
"Come to the address. Pack clothes and bring all necessities," the person rumbled. With that, he turned the other way and was gone.
That was a more than a little strange...
I frowned, glancing down to read the card as I continued walking. It read simply: "Deadlock. 667 Champion Boulevard. Come or be made."
I was super curious. Sure, it could be a ploy to lure me to a creepy guy that was planning to rape me, but let's be honest here. I could take just about anything, and win any fight. I was going to check that place out. It was better than festering in my apartment for three days with nothing to do.
***
I had a big black Nike backpack riding passenger as I drove over to the address I was given. In the backpack were most of my clothes, plus a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hair brush.
It was a two hour drive to the address down a two lane dirt road that cut that cut through a thick forest. It was evening by the time I neared my destination. Streetlights were placed at irregular intervals along the road, casting eerie orange light. Oft times I was driving in the stretches of shadows between the pools of unnatural orange.
When I finally pulled into the place the business card directed me to, I was a little more than surprised at what I saw...
I was pulling into the parking lot of what looked like another high school.