Transformed: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Arcana Unlocked Book 3) by Gregory Blackburn

Author:Gregory Blackburn [Blackburn, Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mountaindale Press
Published: 2021-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-One

Headmaster's Office, St. Julian's High School

He stood there with the book, in front of the dark oak door with Headmaster etched in the frosted glass. He had come a long way, it seemed. His father had used everything this place could throw at a student to keep him away from the library and try to drag him into the bullshit drama. He’d avoided horny cheerleaders who somehow knew exactly where he’d be, weathered screaming diatribes from Coach Harris about how he would get kicked off the team if he didn’t get his grades up, and convinced Miss VonBrandt that she couldn’t fail him for not sleeping with her because he had photographic evidence of her acting inappropriately.

He hated every second of it, but he’d been able to endure it, thanks to his mother’s help. She could only whisper things to him, for if she were any louder, his father would hear. If his father heard, he would use the power of the Godfather to shove her back into Phil’s head.

He’d take her away again, that bastard. It had hurt so much the first time that it had used up all the pain inside him. If it happened again, he didn’t know what he would do. Kill himself, probably. That’s what they all wanted, the pigs and his real teachers and his old man.

There’s Phil, what a fucking burden, they’d said. The kid that drowned his dog. I hear his mom left because his old man’s a cuck.

He hadn’t been able to tell them how wrong they were, that his dad stuffed his mom down the drain one piece at a time and said she ran off with some old flame, all while re-wrapping his red right hand, the one he’d hurt “at work.”

Soon, none of that would matter. The old pains wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Ever since he’d found out his father was God in the Hell they’d trapped him in, it had been getting worse, as though his dad was becoming more like the man from when he was too small to do anything.

His mother’s hot, wet hand soaked through his shirt to his shoulder. It was comfort. He might have fallen for the Old Man’s trap and gotten stuck here in this place that both was and wasn’t the St. Julian’s he knew, but with his mother here? He could outwit the old man. She was his equal in death the way she never had been in life.

He had the book, the evidence of his crime. Her face, lipstick and smeared mascara and all, stared up at him from the cover, lips and eyes all stretched, like the whole thing had come straight from Gein’s bookshelf. That was okay. It wasn’t her. She was there, behind him, boiled skin pressed against his back, not-quite-whispering into his ear.

Turn the handle. Show him. Say the words and kill him once and for all. It will be just us, and we can do whatever you want to keep track of the time.

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