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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2099974
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2099974
Bullying leads to tragic karma in this short story.
The school bell rings throughout the playground, signaling the end of recess. Children from all ages scurry back into the school, led by their teachers. Except for me.

Blood trickles down my head as two boys; Richy and Damien laugh at my predicament. They’d managed to drag me out into the tree-riddled portion of the school’s property against my will. I screamed to the top of my lungs, but they stuffed a sweaty sock in my mouth to shut my ass up.

Now I was tied to a tree, overwhelmed from the stinging pain of their beating with sharp branches.

Richy grabs my face and pats it, “You think you’ve had enough?”

They both laugh together in unison; truly disgusting. I react with a hollow expression, and remain still.

Damien spits in my face, “What’s the matter Birsha, no sense of humor?” He punches me in the face and blood leaks from my nose and mouth. I still don’t move.

Richy shakes his head. “Just leave him; I think we’ve broken him.”

Damien smiles cockily, “I highly doubt that.” He punches me again, and a yelp escapes my lips as the pang sensation from my nose fires through me. “There’s the Birsha we know.”

My eyes settle a glare over him, but I still don’t move or try to say anything.

The ruffling of bushes turns the heads of Damien and Richy in the direction of the remote wilderness. “Who’s out there?”

An apprehensive silence falls over, and the once carefree atmosphere is replaced with an icy sentiment.

A familiar russet ponytail rises from behind the bushes, eyes darting directly at me. Chayna.

“What are you doing here, bitch?” Richy asks immediately.

She rolls her eyes, but her eyes seem transfixed on me, even when talking to them. “Why are you always messing with Birsha? He never does anything to you guys.”

“Because he’s a pussy boy,” Damien retorts.

“And because his name is Birsha,” Richy co-signs. They laugh again in unison, this time snorting annoyingly.

“Cut the bullshit, untie Birsha and leave, we’re all going to be in trouble anyways. The teachers will notice our absence soon.” She sticks out her tongue, folding her arms together.

Damien looks at Richy as if in search for an answer, but Richy seems clueless as he is for a snarky comeback.

Smacking his lips, Damien goes behind the tree and unlaces the knot of the rope. I tumble onto the cold grass, my body numb and stiff. The sock rolls out of my mouth, onto the damp grass.

Damien and Richy scamper back towards the school, leaving me and Chayna alone.

She lifts me back onto my feet, looking curiously through my weary eyes. “They are jerks; do you plan on snitching them out to the teacher?”

I shake my head and lower it in embarrassment. She lifts my face up to meet her gaze. “I can’t have you getting beat up from those two assholes anymore.”

She takes off her satchel and rummages through it. Her cupped hands raises back up, a shimmering blue pill resting in her palm.

“What’s that?” I ask inquiringly.

Her gaze becomes serious and she places her hand on my shoulder. “This pill, one of many is a relic of my family. One of my ancestors was a witch. She performed in witchcraft, though she was not necessarily evil. She created these pills for people to reap what they sow, like karma.”

I grace the pill in my hands, looking back and forth between it and Chayna. “But what does it do, what will happen to me?’

Chayna observes the woods cautiously for intruders and leans in towards my ear. “You control nature to do your bidding.”

My eyes widen in astonishment and a smile crosses my face.

“Just don’t get too excited, okay?” she asks.

I nod, and she kisses me on my head, walking off in the same direction of Damien and Richy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Rain falls steadily and onyx clouds blanket the skies. Damien and Richy walk home together, through the forbidden pathway of our school’s woodlands. A smile rests on my face at their ignorance. I’ve been following them since school let out into the perfect place for me to unleash my wrath.

My foot cracks a branch, causing Richy to Damien to stop in their tracks. They look around suspiciously. “Who’s out there?”

I play around with them, and crack a few more twigs. Their eyes widen full of leeriness and their bodies stiffen into one place.

“Cut the bullshit!” Damien yells stoutly, but I can tell he’s as scared as a mouse in the presence of an owl.

I step out onto the path, smiling like a wicked warlock.

“Birsha, what do you want?” Richy asks; a look of bewilderment on his face.

“For you to have a taste of your own medicine.”

Richy and Damien look at each other, and burst into laughter.

Anger surges through me, and I lift my eyes to the skies. It was time.

Lightning strikes a tree down across the pathway, blocking Richy and Damien from evasion.

“You’re going to die here.” A warm feeling surges through my veins, it feels good.

A mob of spiders come up from the soil and approach Richy and Damien in a rapid pace.

“What the fuck?” Damien screams. They attempt to run away, but I halt them by ground lightning.

“You cannot leave here,” my voice darkens. Winds whip and sway the rain, obscuring visibility.

The spiders crawl onto them, stabbing their skin. They swat and slap, but soon they are overtaken and fall over onto the sodden pathway.

Piercing cries of agony echo throughout the woods as the hoard of spiders crawl in their eyes.

I let out a cold laugh, and lift my hands up. Neighboring birds and families of insects join the murderous spider’s assault.

Blood squirts up as birds and insects feed on the newly-slaughtered flesh.

The sound of heavy panting distracts me, I turn around to see Chayna’s horror ridden face.

“Birsha, are you okay?” She searches for sanity within my eyes, and she gasps, clasping her mouth.

“What is it?” I ask, becoming impatient.

“Those are the eyes of the witch…you’ve provoked her with your anger. You must take the antidote immediately.”

Rage suffuses through me and I can’t control myself. A gust of wind flings Chayna towards the ferocious wildlife.

“I’ve been dead five centuries, no way in hell am I going back now.” A sharp screech of renascence comes hysterically from lips. The ebony skies intensify, as an illuminating, inflamed pentagram emeges upon my hands.
© Copyright 2016 Anthony Sanders (aprettyboy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2099974