"What's wrong with everyone?" Kruel thought as he dragged his feet along the cracked pavement. His bag hung loose on his shoulder, swaying with each step. Is it just me, or is the whole world acting strange today? Have I been in the hospital too much? Maybe it's messing with my head…
He shoved his hands into his pockets. Even if that were the case, it didn't explain the gnawing feeling that clung to him like a shadow. That presence he felt earlier at school—it hadn't gone away. And if that wasn't enough, he now had two creeps to watch out for.
Home was only a few blocks away. The safe route was clear, but instead, Kruel veered off into a shortcut. It was faster, though not exactly safe. The alley was run by a group of older boys who thought they were a gang. They weren't—just loud, reckless kids pretending to be tough. Still, most people avoided this path.
Not Kruel. Fear didn't sit inside him the way it did with others. He wasn't reckless—he just knew something others didn't: he couldn't be hurt. Not in the usual way.
The air grew colder as he stepped into the narrow alley. Graffiti covered the brick walls, layers upon layers of spray paint like scars etched into the city's skin.
"Wait up, kid!" a voice echoed from the shadows.
Kruel stopped, his shoulders stiff. The voice carried confidence. Not one of the usual alley rats.
"We need to talk."
"I don't want to," Kruel muttered, his eyes closing as though he could wish them away. His back stayed turned.
"Who said anything about fighting?" A second voice—lighter, feminine, tinged with amusement. "We just need to talk."
That same eerie sensation washed over him—the presence he had felt at school. It pressed against his chest like invisible hands. Kruel clenched his fists. Something wasn't right.
He spun around sharply, too sharply, and lost his balance. His back hit the cold ground, dust puffing around him. When he looked up, he saw them.
The boy and the girl.
It's them… Kruel's stomach tightened. Does that mean they're the ones creating this presence? If so, why can I feel it too?
The girl stepped forward first. Her eyes were steady, almost too steady for someone her age. "You're Kruel, right?"
He didn't answer. His instincts screamed danger. They weren't dressed like gang members, but something about the way they carried themselves set his teeth on edge. He had seen them once today, at Wincher Lisa High. Seeing them again, here, wasn't a coincidence.
"I'm Jessica," she said, her tone calm, casual even. She gestured toward the boy. "That's Drey."
Kruel's gaze shifted to him. The boy wasn't as fierce now as he had seemed earlier. His eyes, sharp at first glance, carried something else—restraint, maybe even hesitation.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Drey said quietly.
Kruel's body tensed. His confusion boiled into suspicion. Slowly, he rose to his feet. "You're crazy," he hissed, brushing dust off his pants. He turned his back on them, ready to leave.
"Look—we know who you are," Jessica called after him. "And we know what you can do… to an extent."
Kruel froze. The words sank like stones in water.
What is she talking about?
"What do you mean?" he asked, forcing his voice steady. For the first time, he noticed Drey keeping a deliberate distance from him, as though touching him might burn.
Jessica tilted her head, searching for the right words. "You have some kind of… um… special… disability? Talent? Power? Whatever it is, it's not normal. Right?"
Kruel stared at them, blank-faced. Inside, his chest hammered. He wanted to walk away. He needed to. But the presence—stronger now than ever—pinned him to the moment. Something unseen wanted him to stay.
They knew. A secret he had never spoken aloud. Not even once. How? Have they been following me? Watching me? No. That doesn't make sense. I've never seen them until today.
"Yes," Kruel said finally, his voice flat. "That's… sort of correct." His eyes narrowed. "But how did you figure that out?"
"It's just a guess," Drey said, folding his arms. "We saw you earlier today when you and your buddy ran into trouble. That punch you took? Should've made you bleed. Should've dropped you. But it didn't. He bled. You didn't."
Jessica smirked, rubbing her chin. "And you didn't even react when you were angry. That's interesting. You're like the opposite of Drey here."
Kruel's brow furrowed. "Are you two siblings?"
"Nope," Drey replied quickly, a flush creeping across his face. "Just partners."
"Partners in what?" Kruel asked, his suspicion curling tighter. Criminals? Gang members?
"Solving things," Jessica said brightly. "We're kind of like mini-detectives."
Kruel shook his head, frustration spilling out. "This doesn't explain anything! What about the feeling? And don't you dare make that sound weird. And just watching me once today doesn't explain how you know my secret!" His voice cracked as anger sharpened his tone. "You creeps must be from some government agency, trying to put me in a lab for testing! I'm not your experiment. I'm out."
He turned sharply, ready to leave.
"Hold on!" Drey lunged and grabbed his arm.
Instinct took over. Kruel twisted without thinking, and Drey's body slammed to the ground as if tossed by an unseen force.
Both froze. Kruel's own eyes widened. What did I just do?
Drey scrambled back to his feet, jaw tight. He charged, kicking Kruel square in the back. The impact drove him to the ground.
Something inside Kruel snapped.
The world slowed. His veins pulsed with fire. A surge of energy coiled in his muscles, begging to be unleashed. He wasn't just angry—he was alive in a way he had never felt before.
He roared and rose, driving his fist into Drey's stomach. The blow sent the boy flying across the alley, crashing into a metal bin with a deafening clang.
Jessica's scream split the night. "Stop! Please, stop!"
But they didn't.
Kruel advanced, his body moving on instinct. He wasn't trained—he didn't know how to fight—but each punch landed heavy, each dodge felt guided by something beyond him. Drey swung wildly, his attacks clumsy under pressure. Kruel avoided them with ease, countering with crushing blows.
Pain couldn't slow him but fear did. He feared that he would inflict serious injuries on this Drey. But it didn't matter because his body was doing it's own thing. He moved faster, harder. His eyes burned.
Drey staggered, weak and bloodied. Kruel slammed him to the ground and pinned him there. Their eyes locked.
Drey froze. Kruel's pupils had thinned into razor slits, glowing faintly in the dark.
"I don't know who you are or who you work for," Kruel growled, his voice low, dangerous. "And I don't care. Tell them to leave me alone. I don't want trouble."
He shoved off, breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his brow. He grabbed his bag, glanced at the mess they had made, and realized Jessica was gone.
Voices drifted from the far end of the alley. The gang that claimed this territory was closing in.
Kruel didn't wait. He bolted, his footsteps pounding against the pavement, his heart racing faster than it ever had.
I just wanted to go home… he thought, dread gnawing at him. But my parents aren't going to like this. Not one bit.