Chapter 20-Revenge of the Tratiors

A subdued murmur filled the classroom as students drifted into their own small routines. Alice, absorbed in a tattered fantasy novel about an orphan-turned-hero, let its comforting predictability soothe her nerves. Across the room, Jacob occupied himself by levitating a small robot action figure; with each flick of his fingers, the toy’s limbs flailed in a mock skirmish.

Theo and Celia—inseparable as always—whispered excitedly about a new movie they planned to watch that evening, their hushed voices betraying a flicker of normalcy. Meanwhile, Zachary had dozed off, head pillowed on his desk, oblivious to the low-key tension that seemed to cling to the air.

At the front of the class, Mrs. Stone surveyed her students with a mixture of mild annoyance and unease. An empty desk—Charles’s—drew her focus like a magnet. Drumming her pen against the wooden surface, she sighed under her breath.

“That boy,” she muttered. “He was doing so well… but I suppose I can’t fault him for visiting Iris.” She shook her head, pushing aside the frustration. Concern lingered in the tight set of her mouth, but she turned back to the class, determined to begin the day’s lesson.

The facility’s alarm shattered the moment’s quiet, its blaring siren echoing through the corridors. A curt announcement followed, the voice crackling over the speakers: “All students, hide within your dorms. If you are out in the open, proceed to the nearest designated bunker. All agents, intruders have broken in. Assist any students in getting to safety and eliminate any and all attackers you see.”

Everyone went still. The gravity of the words settled over them like a heavy shroud. Mrs. Stone’s eyes hardened, and in one fluid motion, she activated her ability. A surge of water flowed across the doors, instantly crystallizing into a thick barrier of ice as she tossed a small crystal into its swirling depths. Then, reaching under her desk, she pressed something concealed—a lever that caused the podium to slide aside, revealing a secret hatch beneath.

“Each classroom has a hidden bunker,” she said, her voice calm but urgent. “It’s connected to a network of tunnels. I’ll stay here to guard the entrance. You all must go—now.”

Alice clutched her book tight and rushed for the trapdoor, Theo and Celia at her heels, nerves plain in their wide eyes. Jacob lingered only long enough to notice Zachary sprawled on his desk, still half-asleep despite the chaos. Darting back, he shook Zachary awake. The boy bolted upright, grogginess dissolving as reality set in.

They descended into the bunker—a cramped, steel-walled refuge smelling faintly of dust and metal. Rows of emergency supplies lined the shelves, and a dim overhead lamp cast long shadows on their faces. In the back, narrow passageways branched off, leading deeper into the facility’s underbelly. The space felt cold and claustrophobic but undeniably safer than the classroom above.

The trapdoor slammed shut, muffling the distant sound of alarms. As they stood huddled together, hearts pounding, Mrs. Stone’s voice drifted down to them one last time, echoing through the hidden corridor:

“Stay silent, and don’t come out until it’s safe. I’ll keep you protected.”

An earsplitting crash tore through the classroom, sending shards of ice and concrete slamming across the room. Debris pelted the walls, rattling the floor. Dust billowed in heavy clouds, momentarily obscuring the intruders who stepped through the ruined entrance like phantoms emerging from the smoke.

The first figure stood immense, his massive frame encased in battered metal armor. The plundered remnants of countless battles scarred the dull steel, which still held a menacing shine in places. Over this war-torn shell, he wore a black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants—an unsettling juxtaposition that only sharpened the edge of his brutality. At his side, a well-worn sword hung, its hilt scarred by years of use. Each step he took reverberated with caged violence.

Beside him stood a young woman whose compact build belied the storm simmering beneath her calm exterior. Short, curly pink hair framed a face both youthful and fierce. Circle-framed glasses reflected the fractured light, hiding her eyes from view. A white hoodie draped over a maroon shirt and baggy sweatpants, and scuffed green sneakers completed her deceptively mundane attire. Yet the aura she exuded was anything but ordinary. A lime-green messenger bag—shaped like a grinning monster—hung from her shoulder, and in her hand she clutched a timeworn tome. The pages were brittle with age, covered in unreadable script that pulsed faintly with dark energy.

Silence settled as the dust cleared, revealing the intruders in full. Scholar’s gaze swept across the icy, wreckage-strewn classroom before locking onto Mia. The chill in his eyes echoed the frosty air, and the weight of his words carried old animosity.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mia?” he said, his voice cutting through the tense hush. A trace of bitterness colored his tone.

Mia met his stare without flinching. “Not long enough,” she replied, her words laced with contempt. Memories of past clashes played behind her eyes.

Knight stepped forward, voice dripping malice. “It’s time for you to die,” he hissed. “I’ll make sure it’s very painful.” His posture and the readiness of his blade promised exactly that.

Mia’s response was swift, her voice razor-sharp. “Take off that ridiculous helmet,” she spat. “Or are you too scared to show me your face?”

With a slow, deliberate motion, Knight unlatched his visor. Beneath the battered metal lay horrifying scars—twisted ridges of flesh, warped and discolored. The raw fury behind his eyes flared at the memory of the agony he’d endured.

“Happy now?” Knight sneered, every syllable laced with hatred. “You did this to me. And now, I’m returning the favor.”

Mia’s eyes narrowed, and her words sliced deeper than any blade. “Still as ugly as I remember,” she said coolly. “Maybe I should have finished the job the first time. You’re lucky all I did was burn that hideous face.”

Her scorn lit a fresh spark in Knight’s gaze, fueling the savage promise of violence that hung thick in the air.

Knight’s scarred face contorted with rage, his expression twisted into a feral snarl. Without warning, he lunged at Mia, raw fury driving his every move. His massive sword seemed impossibly small at first—until he drew it, revealing a colossal blade made up of countless smaller blades grinding together. An electric hum crackled along its jagged edges.

He roared and swung the weapon in a lethal arc, aiming to cleave Mia in half. She moved instantly, summoning a surge of water that solidified into a gleaming barrier. The impact of metal against liquid crystal sent shockwaves rippling through the ruined room, but the barrier held, absorbing the blow with a fluid, unyielding grace.

Mia’s eyes burned with confidence. “Two against one, is it?” she taunted, voice dripping with contempt. “You two were never strong on your own. Did you ever beat me by yourselves—even once?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Water churned violently around her, coiling into a swirling vortex of razor-sharp tendrils. Each whip of liquid slashed at the air, slicing through debris and shards of ice as it lashed out at both Knight and Scholar. The air crackled with energy, the storm intensifying with every beat of Mia’s heart.

Knight clenched his jaw, bracing for another strike. But Scholar stepped forward, calm amid the chaos, gripping a tattered tome whose ancient pages pulsed with a dark aura. The Book of Unlovable Blessings (Artifact 1-103) emanated a steady, unsettling energy that sank into the atmosphere like an invisible fog.

“You think you’re so untouchable, Mia,” Scholar said coldly, her eyes hidden behind circle-framed glasses. “Let’s see how you fare when your own strength turns on you.”

She opened the book, its pages glowing with eerie light. Immediately, Mia felt a leaden weight press on her limbs, her movements slowing as a creeping lethargy seeped into her muscles. The vortex faltered, each watery tendril losing its savage edge.

Mia’s gaze hardened with realization. Scholar’s artifact had magnified her ability—she was draining Mia’s power, making every breath a labor. Still, Mia refused to surrender. Summoning a burst of will, she hurled a wave at Knight, forcing him back. Water pounded against his armor, searching for seams to exploit. Knight reacted by reshaping the metal, sealing openings and morphing his weapon into a broad shield that deflected the assault.

The sound of clashing water and metal rumbled through the wrecked classroom. Scholar’s artifact crackled, dark pulses intensifying the curse. Despite the odds, Mia pushed on, feeding every last ounce of will into her faltering vortex. Yet Knight was relentless, seizing the slightest lapse. His sword exploded into a swarm of smaller blades, each shard slicing toward Mia like a nest of enraged hornets.

Simultaneously, Scholar’s draining aura thickened around Mia, suffocating her strength. She gasped for air as Knight’s barrage rained down, her once-majestic water shield reduced to feeble ripples.

“You’re slipping, Mia,” Knight crowed, his voice rife with sadistic glee. Reassembling his weapon into a massive, jagged blade, he swung wide. “All that arrogance—and now look at you. Nothing without your precious water.”

Scholar’s cold gaze never wavered, her voice a steely monotone as she read from the Book of Unlovable Blessings. Each recitation deepened Mia’s fatigue, strangling what remained of her stamina. “You should have known better than to face us alone,” she said, words like ice. “We always worked best together.”

Mia’s entire body trembled under the crushing weight of the curse. She forced her limbs to move, refusing to yield, but the surrounding water sputtered and died away into sluggish waves. Knight, sensing victory, pulled back for a final blow, forging his sword into a brutal crescent of metal and slashing it forward with terrifying speed.

Just when it seemed the battle was lost, a surge of warmth flared inside Mia, a sudden, inexplicable rush of energy that loosened the curse’s grip on her limbs. The crushing lethargy lifted, granting her a reprieve she hadn’t dared hope for.

“What—?” Scholar gasped, voice trembling. She felt the shift, too, and glanced down at the Book of Unlovable Blessings in alarm. The artifact pulsed erratically in her hands, betraying her, the side effect granting Mia an unintentional boon.

Mia’s eyes snapped open, alive with renewed vigor. The water roared back to life, the vortex twisting into a howling maelstrom. Fanged tendrils of liquid whipped at Knight’s sword, wrenching it from its lethal path.

Caught unawares by her sudden resurgence, Knight stumbled. “What the hell?” he spat, shock cutting through his rage. “How are you still standing?”

Mia’s lips curved in a grim smile. “You put faith in a cursed artifact with such a backlash? Foolish move.”

She thrust her arms outward, and the watery vortex expanded, filling the room with an overwhelming surge. Knight’s armor groaned under the pressure, the metal straining as torrents of water hammered him from every angle, searching for any chink in his defenses.

Scholar, voice strained and high, chanted more fervently from her cursed tome. But Mia no longer felt the debilitating pull. The blessing now flowed in her veins, chasing away fatigue and rekindling her fighting spirit.

She shifted focus and hurled a concentrated jet of water at Scholar, aiming for the book. Scholar let out a strangled cry, just managing to raise an arm in defense. The force of the water still hurled her back, the Book of Unlovable Blessings slipping from her grasp to skid across the flooded floor.

“No!” Scholar shouted, scrambling toward the artifact. But Mia pressed the advantage, conjuring another wave that slammed the woman against the wall, pinning her with a dense column of water.

“You’re not the only one who fights dirty,” Mia snarled, tightening the watery hold. “I’ve had years to hone my craft, and I’m not about to lose to you two.”

Knight, enraged at Scholar’s peril, lunged again. His sword, once more a spinning mosaic of razor shards, slashed through the waves with violent tenacity. Mia smoothly redirected the vortex, absorbing the strike. In the same motion, she hurled a flurry of water spears toward him, each one aiming to crack through his defenses.

“You’re still outnumbered, Mia!” Knight thundered, fighting back against the onslaught. “You can’t keep both of us pinned forever!”

“Watch me,” Mia retorted, her tone ironclad. The blessing coursed through her, granting a second wind she refused to squander. She braced herself for the next clash, confident that, for now at least, she still held the upper hand.

Mia hurled a crushing wave at Knight, the water slamming him against the far wall. Metal screeched as his armor buckled, and the gargantuan sword lost shape for a heartbeat while he struggled for control.

Scholar snatched up her fallen book, but the damage was done. Mia’s power, bolstered by the artifact’s unwanted blessing, now surged with unbreakable force. Scholars’ attempts to renew the curse were met by fierce resistance; the blessing turned every hex against itself.

Mia advanced, water spinning in a vortex that sealed off any escape. She sensed a shift in the air—an unnerving hush. Knight and Scholar exchanged a grim look, as though they’d reached some unspoken agreement.

“We have to activate them, don’t we?” Scholar’s voice trembled with a fear she couldn’t hide.

Knight exhaled sharply. “Not just activate,” he said, eyes flashing. “Release them at full power.”

A chill ran through Mia as Knight raised his hand, his fingers quivering. “Oh, maiden of damnation, I beseech you,” he intoned, voice dark and fervent. “I offer my life, my suffering, my pain…all for your boon. Grant me the power to avenge the wrongs placed against me. Artifact 0-23, Iron Maiden!”

At once, Knight’s dented armor seemed to awaken with a nightmarish sentience. A roar—inhuman and anguished—echoed through the ruined classroom, like the wail of a thousand tormented souls. Flames engulfed his hoodie and sweatpants, charring the fabric and searing flesh beneath. The heat radiating from the armor grew suffocating, even from yards away.

Then the armor sprouted spikes—long, twisted blades that thrust inward. Knight’s blood poured out as they drilled through muscle and bone. But instead of killing him, the armor drank in his life force, its external spikes lengthening into gleaming, savage lances. His body bent under horrific pain, yet his voice deepened into a guttural snarl.

“Pain is temporary,” he growled, eyes ablaze with malevolence. “But my vengeance, Mia, will last forever.”

Scholar wasted no time. Raising her messenger bag, she began her own chant, her voice quivering with determination. “Oh devourer of destiny, consumer of luck,” she cried. “Accept my sacrifice. Devour hope and despair alike. Grade 0 artifact—Stomach of the Gluttonous Monarch!”

The bag answered with a cackling laugh so vile it made Mia’s ears ring. Its monstrous maw gaped open, a void of infinite darkness that seemed to leech color from the room. A long purple tongue shot out, coiling around Scholar’s arm—and tore it clean from her shoulder in one sickening motion. The wound should have been fatal, but the bag licked the raw stump, sealing it shut as it swallowed the severed limb with morbid relish.

Colors drained from the world around Scholar, leaving everything in a washed-out gray. The void within the bag pulsed, a beacon of bottomless hunger that tugged on Mia’s courage, threatening to devour her will. She fought the oppressive pull with all her might, even as the floor beneath them grew slick with blood and the stench of seared flesh hung in the air.

Mia’s water churned defensively. Knight’s transformed Iron Maiden glowed with hellish fire, Scholar’s bag radiated endless hunger—and Mia found herself facing two living horrors, each more monstrous than the last.