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The Blood On My Hands

Really Don’t Like U

Really Don’t Like U

Oct 26, 2020

Gazing at the school gave me only one single emotion: disgust. The nightmare that had been the ride to my new prison was long and aggravating. The cuffs bruised my wrists and a new bone cracked with every step I took. My knife had been stripped away from me, as well as my old clothes. Instead I was given a grey and itchy tank top and matching sweatpants.

I had never felt more naked in my life.

The words “Nicolas Vought” were embroidered to the back of my shirt. When I complained about the misspelling of my name an old geezer grabbed a sharpie and crossed out the “las”.

This was my seventh school, and apparently my last. Nobody got transferred out of here. Cheshire School for this and that. Can’t remember for the life of me. 

A gun barrel was shoved into my back, pushing me forward into the gates of the school. With an angry creak they shut tight and bolted. I was in the middle of a courtyard. It was completely bare, save for a few benches laid about. A basketball hoop had been set up in a corner, but the pole tilted forward from a slam dunk gone wrong. It was a reminder to what kind of monsters were ahead of me.

Not like I wasn’t a beast on my own. Standing at 6’4 I was gifted with lean and packed muscle. My hair was bleached white and pulled back into a half bun. Loose bandages hung around my knuckles, the one thing I was allowed to keep on. 

My recent expulsions were due to extreme acts of violence, like breaking a teachers arm or strangling a student. 

Walking into the building I navigated my ass to the headmaster’s office. There were iron bars surrounding the windows and the reinforced door beeped before lightly clicking open. My arm strained for a second as I wrenched it open.

“Welcome to our school, Mr. Vought.” The principal, an older lady sitting in her chair said.

Surrounding her were huge bodyguards and guns. I could almost drool looking at them.

“Yeah, great introduction bitch. Now give me my room keys and-”

I felt my head slam onto the ground. My arms and legs were held down and I felt flecks of white running through my vision.

“I don’t know exactly how your old school ran but here we use respect. Respect to your elders. As it’s your first day I’ll let you out with a warning, but second timers get sent to the room.”

The room. I almost wanted to laugh at her creativity. Yeah there are fucking rooms in this school. I’d be more concerned if there weren’t. But now wasn’t the time to bitch about shit like that. I was fucking tired as hell.

“Yeah, okay ma’am. Mind telling these distinguished gentlemen to get their hands off me?”

“I’d love to, but unfortunately the one restraining you is Miss Shinah Ayato and she will release you when she sees fit.”

I just realized this woman must be on some doped up steroids. She had one hand restraining both my wrists, the other pressing my head, and a leg crushing my legs. I’d need some sleep before I could kick her ass.

“Anyways Mr. Nico, this is enough for today. Here are your dorm keys and classes start in three weeks. See you then.”

A folder and keys hit me dead on the face, but the hand now adjusted to my neck kept me sober. Sleep. First sleep.

Exiting the office I made my way to meet the shit stain I would be sharing my cell with.

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Atharjarksylsyl
Rawr

Creator

Nico doesn’t give a shit about names, but the headmistress’ is Mrs. Ayato-Mori. Title inspired by Really Don’t Like U, by Tove Lo.

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Sarang69
Sarang69

Top comment

Hmm intresting 🗣️

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The Blood On My Hands
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Nico Vaught lived his whole life in his father’s basement. Days turned into years and the boy’s heart turned cruel and wicked. When he is saved by child services and brought to a new home he gets a chance to start over. Except Nico isn’t like that. A human terror, he switches schools and homes quickly until he’s given one last chance. Cheshire’s School For Untamed Brats. The place is filled with the worst of the worst, but maybe that’s exactly what Nico needed. A good reality slap.

**Warning** This story contains triggering themes of past sexual abuse, violence, homophobia and other things. If you can’t handle evil people doing evil things I beg you to read something else. This isn’t marked romance - - it’s marked horror and for a good reason too...
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Really Don’t Like U

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