Chapter 78
Chapter 78
It was like watching a timeline of the most significant memories he had, those that shaped him into who h
e is today. A glimpse into the depths of who Kalen truly was and the things that haunted him, made him
happy, everything that made Kalen, Kalen.
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His youngest memory was horrible. At first, I was an outsider watching until the vision warped, and I was
suddenly Kalen, seeing the world through his eyes. Feeling what he felt, enduring what he endured. I
found myself running into some room with gray walls with peeling wallpaper, exposing the mold-covered
walls beneath. Beds lined the room in rows,rge bay windows overlooked the city, and the room was ice
cold.
He crawled underneath his bed by the window only to be ripped out by his ankles, his nails wing at the
wooden floorboards, making his fingertips bloody as they tore away his fingernails. His screams were
horrendous and hurt my soul. The fear he felt made my heart race, and at first, I had no idea what he
was running from until he was rolled over.
It was other children, Kalen crawling on his hands and knees is, blocked by legs and backed into a
corner. The kids huddled around him in the corner of the room. He tried to cover his ears with hands over
his head as they screamed and taunted. Throwing things and kicking and hurting him. Most of his
childhood was spent being bullied relentlessly for being the weakest amongst the Fae. But Kalen wasn’t
just the weakest; he was also the smallest amongst his peers.
The bullying was horrendous, the things they did to him. Setting him on fire, urinating on him, beating
him bloody, and the teachers or those responsible for looking after him turned a blind eye to it or outright
condemned him by telling him he deserved it. Kalen’s childhood was tragic up until one day, and that day
changed everything for him. Kalen was worried as he sat in the yground by himself, and a new kid
walked out the doors.
He thought it was another person to add to the list of bullies he already had. The boy reminded me of
someone, and it didn’t take long before I recognized who he was. It was Lycus. He was younger in this
memory. Lycus was just a boy, like Kalen. Only he was frighteningly bigger, and Kalen watched, horrified
a s he argued with one of the teachers before stomping off to sit on one of the bench seats. Lycus
watched the other children y, his eyes falling on Kalen, and Kalen dropped his gaze, cursing himself
for making eye contact with the scary-looking boy.
When the bell went to signal ss and he had to return back into the orphanage, he ran for the doors,
hoping to go unnoticed. However, Kalen knew his bullies weren’t going to give him a day off when the
one he hated most stepped into his path. The boy was a teenager and almost looked too old to be still in
the orphanage that Kalen called home. Kalen had to have been at least half the other boys’ age.
As the bully steps out the door into the concrete yground, he takes a step back. Kalen’s eyes scan his
surroundings, looking for an escape. He notices Lycus watching curiously from where he still sat,
ignoring the sound of the school bell. Kalen goes to make a run for the door across the quadrangle, only
for the teenage boy to tackle him.
Kids rush out the doors, circling around and taunting him while the other kid grips the front of his shirt
and repeatedly punches him, making his nose bleed, and his eyes blur as they swell. Pain rippled
through me as I experienced what he did, the helplessness, and the eptance. Kalen doesn’t fight
back. He knows it is useless and only brings on more pain.
So instead, he just takes it. He thought the boy would surely kill him that day. He promised Kalen he
would before he aged out of the system. Kalen epted it. In some ways, he hoped this was it, the day
his torment ended. Just as his bully gripped his head in both hands, Kalen closed his eyes, knowing his
head was about to be mmed into the pavement. Yet the deadly blow neveres.
Instead, the weight holding him down was gone, and a collective gasp was heard from the surrounding
crowd of children. Kalen’s eyes flew open to find his tormentor beside him on the ground, and the new
kid that had arrived was punching into him, the bully’s head bouncing off the ground as Lycus pounded
his face with his fists. Blood spurted out of the Bullies nose and mouth covering the new kid.
Kalen was shocked but also petrified that Lycus would turn his attention to him when he was done.
Lycus’ eyes were a demonic ck, and he foamed at the mouth in his rage. Kalen justid there and
stared, too scared to move. Lycus growled loudly when Kalen’s bully fell unconscious.
The other kids had scattered and ran away in fear as Lycus stood upright, breathing heavily before his
gaze turned to Kalen, who cowered away from him as Lycus stepped over the kid. Yet instead of offering
Kalen a fist, he offered him his hand and pulled him to his feet
“Are you okay?” Lycus asked him and Kalen just stared at him. No one ever asked if he was okay, and
he suddenly found himself mute for another reason.
“You got a name?” Lycus asks him. Kalen nods, and Lycus raises an eyebrow at him.
“Well, are you going to tell me, or can’t you speak?” Lycus asks him,
“Kalen,” he stuttered out.
“I’m Lycus,” Lycus told him, and Kalen looked down at his bloody bully lying unconscious on the ground.
“Come on, let’s find a first aid kit,” Lycus tells him, grabbing Kalen’s arm, but Kalen shakes his head,
pulling away. Lycus stops and stares at him.
“I will get in trouble. The teachers don’t help,” he whispers to Lycus. That seemed to anger Lycus, who
chucks his arm over Kalen’s shoulder.
“They’ll help, or I’ll make them,”
“They won’t listen. They don’t care, ” Kalen murmurs nervously:
“I’ll make them listen,” Lycus tells him. 1
Kalen looks at Lycus, and he smiles, shing his canines. “Because if they don’t, I’ll bite,” he says, and
Kalenughs, letting Lycus lead him back inside.
After the day he met Lycus, they were joined at the hip, drawn to each other. Lycus always defended
Kalen and taught him how to protect himself as best he could. However, when they were both fourteen,
Kalen’s mental health declined, and his depression worsened until Lycus got sick of watching him hate
himself.
His teacher had hit Kalen across the knuckles with a cane when he was trying to exin the work to
Lycus beside him. Kalen’s knuckles split open, and Lycus lost it, standing up and ripping the cane from
his teacher’s fingers. The man was cruel and hated both Lycus and Kalen and used any excuse to
punish them. Lycus pulled the cane from his hand before wailing on him with it. Lycus was then shot with
a dart gun after one of the student’s raced into the halls to alert security. Kalen watched on helplessly as
Lycus was then hauled away to the infirmary, and Kalen wasn’t allowed in with him, so he waited by the
door for him to wake up.
“Kalen! Now.” his teacher called to him. Kalen was waiting in a corridor for Lycus when he heard his
name called. Kalen pushed off the wall he was leaning on as the burly vampiric Fae stalked toward him.
Kalen nced at the door where Lycus was before turning his attention to the headteacher.
“Follow me,” the man said.
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“But Lycus,”
“I am not here for the were-Fae. Now hurry up,” the man said, turning on his heel and walking into the
gymnasium. Kalen followed. He had never had issues with the headteacher; he was only new to the
orphanage, so he didn’t suspect anything wrong. When he entered the gymnasium, his Math teacher
sato na chair. Lash marks covered him where Lycus had beat him.
A few other teachers stood off to the sides as they entered, and Kalen followed behind, thinking he would
probably be issued the cane. He got the cane. Not a piece of his skin was left untainted when they
finished beating him. This was their punishment for Lycus. They knew Kalen was Lycus’s weak spot and
the only person he cared for, so they hurt Kalen to teach Lycus a lesson. Then they fed on him, nearly
killing him before dumping him outside the infirmary door for Lycus to find. A few dayster, Lycus had
enough.
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