Supreme Magus Chapter 6 A New Beginning
Supreme Magus Chapter 6 A New Beginning
*"He his alive! I did it! I managed to save your boy's life."* (please, remember that * means words that Derek is not capable of understanding.)
After the midwife triumphantly said those words, the room exploded in cheers and tears of joy. The people in the room were hugging each other and the mother in turns.
Meanwhile, Derek lied limp in the midwife's arms, looking left and right trying to determine how bad was his current situation.
"Well, well. What do we have here? The bedridden woman is clearly this body's mother. She definitely needs a bath." After delivery, the sheets were stained with blood, urine and feces.
"The crying, rough looking man should be the father. I wonder if he is crying for my sake or just because he was afraid of losing his wife. I bet the second one. Then I have a bigger brother and a sister. This is bad."
Suddenly another woman entered the bedroom bringing with her a little boy and a girl that raced to the bedridden woman.
"Oh dammit! This is even worse that I thought. So far I have only two possible choices. Option one, grow into this large family, fighting every day for the few available resources. Malnourishment is most definitely a given. Then, when I am old enough, starting to work with father and brothers, getting married, having children, etcetera. Option two, wait until I am tall enough to grab sharp objects, put me out of my misery and take another spin hoping for a better outcome. I think I'll go with option number two."
Meanwhile the room had become silent. The midwife had already finished cleaning the newborn, wrapped him up in a clean cloth. During all this time Derek neither moved or cried.
*"Nana, what's wrong with the baby? Why is he not crying? It never happened before!"* The mother was worried, and ignoring the pain was trying to get up.
*"Shush, child, and don't you dare to move. I still have to heal you."* The midwife tone did not leave space for reply. *"I delivered dozens of children, a silent one is rare but nothing special. Do you want to see how strong he is? There you go!"*
She unwrapped him from the cloth, and while holding him gently gave a little spanking, to force him to cry.
Derek grunted a little, while staring at her in dismay.
"Want to play rough, old hag?" He thought. "Fine! You just triggered my trap card! Twin Flood, activate!" And out of the blue he relieved both his bowels and bladder.
The backdoor attackers splattered all over her feet, while the front door flood struck her on the face and chest.
Derek started giggling loudly.
*"Well, this wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but as you can hear for yourself, this little imp is breathing just fine."* The midwife handed the baby to another woman to clean him.
Derek kept giggling, proud of his work. After washing her face with warm water and a cloth, the old hag moved her left index finger drawing a circle in the air, striking it through in the middle from right to left. Then she pronounced a single word.
"Ekidu!"
A black energy manifested on her fingertip. She proceeded to point it over her wet dress and then over her shoes. The smell of feces and urine suddenly disappeared and so did their source.
With his mouth agape in shock, Derek watched as his poop would dry and crumble, turning into dust. It was akin to watching one of those fast-forwarded videos where in one minute you could see a seed becoming a flower.
"Heisenberg's beard! She is not just an old midwife! She is a real magician, in the flash! I have never been so happy in my whole three lives of being so dead wrong!"
Derek was ecstatic, and not only because that world had magic, but also because as soon as he heard the word Ekidu, he had felt something clicking inside of him.
Like if something deep inside of him had started taking root, and suddenly had become engrained in the very fabric of his new reality.
He started repeating obsessively the magic word in his mind, and trying to engrave in his memory every detail of the circular finger movement.
*"Now that I'm clean let me stop that bleeding, dear."* The healer approached the mother and placed her hands above her nether regions.
"Is it time for another magic? Show me, please!" Derek begged in his mind.
Nana first spreaded he fingers wide then started to move both arms in a circular motion, first up over her head, then opened her arms as much as she could before joining her hands, palm against backhand, at her navel's height.
"Vinire Lakhat!"
Derek, all wrapped up, tried to mimic all her movements, step after step, memorizing every single detail he could grasp, no matter how small.
A sphere of light enveloped Derek's mother lower body and she quickly recovered her complexion. The pale skin reverted to a healthy pink, while all the traces of pain and fatigue disappeared from her face.
Once again, something clicked inside him. After the dark magic, he could clearly feel that simply by hearing the power word, a connection had been established between him and light magic. Derek could not stop grinning.
"If, and I say if I have enough magical talent, it would mean there is actually a third hidden option." He thought. "I can become a magician and live free for the first time in my life! No shackles, no responsibilities! But it's better not get over enthusiast. With my luck I could just have a poor talent or…"
His reasoning was abruptly interrupted, the woman that had held him until that moment was handing him to his mother.
*"Nana, are you sure he is all right? He has yet to cry, and giggle or not he is too quiet. With all that happened, I am really afraid that something is wrong with him."*
After those words, the noisy room turned gloomy. Afraid that he was somewhat responsible, and quite eager to explore option number three, Derek did his best baby impression, giggling, smiling and doing raspberry sounds.
Nana felt her professional pride hurt by such allegations, but it wasn't her first time with an anxious mother.
She knew Elina since she was still a child, and had delivered all her babies. Nana could not deny that this delivery had been one of the most difficult of her career.
The labour had lasted hours and she had been forced to cast healing spells multiple times to stop the bleeding. When she finally could see the baby's head, she knew something was wrong.
Elina was fighting with all her strength but the baby was limp. So, she had rushed and used her hands to pull out the baby as fast as possible, only to discover that he was being strangled by his own umbilical cord.
After cutting and removing it, she had tried all her best spells, but to no avail. For a whole terrible minute, Nana had believed the child was lost.
But then the healing light had finally activated, forcing the baby to puke, clearing his airway. Then and only then Nana started affording the luxury of relaxing.
Healing magic was no miracle. It could enhance the life force of the patient making easier to recover from an illness or healing from an injury but it could not create life.
Nana was sensitive, so she understood that Elina didn't need a lesson about magic, just be reassured about her child's health.
*"Worry not, my child. I can prove it to you that all is well."*
With a warm smile, she caressed Elina's cheek and took Derek from her arms, removing the cloth like she was revealing a treasure.
Nana carefully adjusted Derek in the crook of her left arm, then she circled her open right hand all around him and said:
"Vinire Rad Tu!"
A small wisp of light came out of her palm, dancing around the baby before penetrating his chest.
The light spreaded from head to toe, making him emit a dim light.
*"See? If there was even a scratch on his body my injury detecting spell would leave that area bleak. Your little sun is fine."*
The energy flowing through his body was making Derek feel empowered. In his old life he had felt like that only few times.
When he got his degrees, when he finally abandoned his parent's home, when he beat up the bullies. But all those times it had been a fleeting emotion, lasting few seconds at best.
Now it was different, it wasn't just adrenaline. Real magic, real power was coursing through every fiber of his being, making him feel invincible.
So, when the spell started fading off, he could not accept that.
"No! Come back to me! Give me my power back!" Derek screamed inwardly.
He focused on the last strands of energy, willing for them to stay. He could not cast the spell on his own, but he could still feel the lingering power and started feeding it with his own.
Derek's light stopped dimming and instead grew stronger and stronger.
Nana was dumbfounded. She had never seen anything like that before. That was not how the spell was supposed to work.
Derek wanted it to last forever, but a second later he fell asleep due to mana exhaustion, and the light disappeared quickly.
Nana wrapped up the baby again and returned him to his mother's embrace.
"Nana, what was that?" Elina asked full of wonder.
The old healer had no idea how to answer. Many possibilities popped up in her head, and all of them would require long explanations that would needlessly make Elina worry and maybe even forcing Nana to repeat the spell.
Had been a long day, and she had no intention on prolonging it even a second more than necessary, so she borrowed a line from her childhood's favourite fairy tale.
*"My child, I think the new-born may be blessed by the light. There is no need to worry, only to rejoice."*
Supreme Magus Chapter 5 Collateral Damage
Supreme Magus Chapter 5 Collateral Damage
After much screaming and freaking out, Derek finally regained his composure and started to analyse his current predicament.
The first thing that caught his eye was a huge hole in the space suit at the chest level. The contours of the hole had burn marks all over it and there was a lot of purple jelly on both his suit and the dead bodies.
That meant the purple jelly was coagulated alien blood. Derek turned his head to see the spot where he had woken up, noticing a lot of blood and even something that he found safe to assume were some kind of splattered viscera.
"This makes no sense." He thought. "All the evidence points to the fact that this body was dead as Julius Caesar until I somehow happened to inhabit it. And for whatever reason, it's also fully healed. Oh man, this means all religions are dead wrong! Luckyly I never believed in any mumbo jumbo, otherwise I would be really disappointed right now."
Derek then proceeded examining his new body. It had four arms, only two legs but all the limbs were long and skinny. The legs were reverse jointed, like those of a cat. Both hands and feet had only three fingers each.
Derek was really curious about his facial features but there was no reflective surface in sight. So, he tried feeling his face with the fingers, but the suit turned out to come with a helmet, which did not impede his senses though.
The only thing he could establish was the shape of the helmet, and based on it Derek's new head should have been something similar to a shark's dorsal fin.
Then he tried to speak. "Test, test. Derek Esposito. One, two, three." He could somehow do it, but it was still English. That meant that he did not inherit neither the muscle memory nor the intellect from the body's previous owner.
Derek tried getting up, but the centre of gravity was too different from his old body, so he had to give up and proceed crawling like a baby.
So, he started examining the corpses to make heads or tails of what was happening around him. Judging from the suits, there were two factions at war.
One had a red coloured space suit, and the other, which Derek was donning, was grey. He had no idea which side was winning, but it would not make any difference to him anyway.
Unless the suit was equipped with a universal translator, he was uncapable of communicating. Enemies would kill him on sight, allies would probably ditch him like garbage.
"Who would ever want a rambling idiot, incapable even of walking during a life or death situation? I'm not even here from a day and I am already as good as dead."
Refusing to give up, Derek managed to get up by leaning on the walls and started exploring.
The corridor had many doors, yet his choices were painfully limited, since he could only go through the open ones.
Derek had no idea how to open the doors nor how to operate the control panels that he found along the way. He tried pushing buttons at random but nothing happened.
And he was starting to get hungry.
"Will I die like this? Starving in a goddamned space ship, alien planet or whatever the f**k is this? I don't know what this useless pile of flesh eats! Even if I stumble on a mountain of food, I have no way to know what is what. And even if I did, I do not know how the heck to remove this helmet."
After walking for several hours, hunger and frustration drove him to hysteria. Derek screamed an kicked whatever was within reach, until exhaustion made him fell asleep.
When he woke up, his mind was clear again.
"This is a nightmare. I am all out of options, to the point that even if I wanted to kill myself, I would not know how." He banged the back of his head against the wall to keep frustration at bay.
"I never thought about this, but being reborn in a sci-fi environment is truly the worst-case scenario. Alien body, alien customs, complete lack of the new species common sense. And to make things worse everything here is so high tech that I cannot even operate a door. Heck, every god damn button could be tagged and it would still be useless to me since I don't know their language."
His hunger was rising and he was feeling weaker by the hour. Having no time to lose, he started wandering again, this time banging and screaming at every door he met, trying to draw some attention
Derek was on the verge of fainting again due to hunger and exhaustion when finally a door opened up.
The shock was great enough for him to lost his grip and fall to the ground. On the other side there were grey suited aliens in a wedge formation.
Every one of the was holding some kind of long metal staff as it was a rifle. Derek didn't even attempt to get up, he just waved a right hand, hoping it was a peace sign.
*"Captain! That's Xa'rk! His life signal getting back online wasn't a glitch in the system, he is still alive."* (from this point onward * means words that Derek does not understand)
The formation opened and a taller and bulkier alien closed in. The soldiers never lowered their weapons nor lost focus, waiting for the attack order.
*"What are you doing on the floor, soldier? And how in Thrak's name did you survive that ambush?"* The captain asked with a coarse voice.
"Dude, I have no idea what you did just said."
*"What is he rambling? Medic, any reading on that blaster wound?"*
A purple dressed alien walked forward while scanning Derek's body. *"None, sir. It's not any dialect in the empire. And the scanner confirms that the hole in his armour is definitely from a Corellan blaster. I have no idea how he survived it unscathed. It's a miracle."*
*"It's a liability."* The captain's tone was grim. He took a staff from a soldier's hands and by pushing a button it became a glaive, whose blade was made of pure energy.
"Well, seems that I'm going to die from a lightsabre. It's cool, one hit and I'll be turned into dandruff. Lucky me, another painless death incoming."
When the captain plunged the glaive into his chest, it did not make any burning sound. It pierced him from side to side, bleeding him to death.
The blade was not a laser-based weapon, but a hard-light construct, making it no different from an ordinary glaive.
*"Listen up, soldiers. Xa'rk was a good soldier and we will remember and mourn him as such. When and if we get out of this alive. But that thing, whatever that is, is a risk we cannot allow to take. Not with Prince Rek'hart in our care and those Corellan rebel scums still at large. Better some collateral damage than a spy among our ranks. Now shut that door and check the perimeter again."*
This time, death was far from painless for Derek. He felt like his chest was on fire, but what really hurt wasn't the wound as much the lungs.
Derek was struggling to breathe. Every breath was shallower and more difficult than the last. Blood started gurgling from his mouth, and he felt like slowly drowning.
His throat kept contacting trying to draw in air, but to no avail. It took Derek less than a minute to die, but for him it seemed to last forever.
Once again, he found himself basked by blinding light and pulled towards it. Just like the last time, he felt all his worries and rage fading, but instead of enjoying the feeling he was simply annoyed.
Derek had never believed in any god, hence he never believed in heaven or hell.
"Humankind has always been a terrible race" He thought. "It's impossible to define someone as truly bad. Most of the times the bad guys are simply people who never got a chance to be anything but criminals.
Then there are people, like me, whom life had pushed and pushed until they broke. Not to mention psycho and sociopaths. How could someone that is born bad be sent to hell simply because his head is malfunctioning?
Hence, I have always believed that either there was an afterlife for everyone, or no afterlife at all. Death is supposed the be final spirit level, good or bad, rich or poor the destination has to be the same.
Instead I got this cheap excuse of reincarnation screwing with me.
What purpose being reborn could possibly have if I retain all of my memories?
Whatever body or planet I would end up in, I would still carry my baggage, so once outside the light all my pain, rage and contempt toward humankind would prevent me to learn whatever lesson I am supposed to learn!"
Inside that otherworldly space, he had the clarity to see that his psychologist was only half right. He could only change if he wanted to, but because of all his past experiences he had no will to.
It was a perfect example of a catch-22 paradox.
Suddenly, he was pulled downwards and away from the light.
His vision was a blur, but he could still hear a lot of commotion around him.
Giant hands were holding him still while he was puking god knows what, and judging from the breeze on his buttcheeks he was naked.
"I don't know what the heck is going on" He thought "but I bet I am in deep sh*t again."
When Derek was finally able to see again, he discovered that the hands were not gigantic, the issue was him being very small. A baby, to be precise.
*"He is alive! I did it! I managed to save your boy's life."*
A further inspection revealed that said hands belonged to some gibberish rambling old hag. Derek was currently inside a wooden shack, surrounded by people dressed with rags that could be called clothes only if they were part of a 1000 AD themed renaissance fair.
"Man, I hate being always right!"
Supreme Magus Chapter 4 Fall and Ascension
Supreme Magus Chapter 4 Fall and Ascension
It was a night like all the others since he had quit his job. Derek would wear one of his new suits and wander off the city, to see what would it kill him first, the cancer or a random crazy head. Once reached exhaustion or simply boredom he would then take a cab and get back home.
Derek was walking with quick strides, high on his medications when he saw him. Chris Wainright. He was holding a bottle of liquor, ill-hidden inside a paper bag, from which he would drink in big gulps.
Chris was talking and laughing loudly with a teen girl that was showing a lot of skin. She was holding a joint, taking big puffs, until they traded and got into a car.
It was a custom painted muscle car. Not the same Camaro that Chris had used to kill Carl, it was even bigger and more expensive.
In that moment, Derek wanted to puke blood. How could he possibly have forgotten about that little b*astard? Had his cancer really screwed up his brain so bad to be willing to let such a loose end slip?
The tires screeched and the car started suddenly, almost running over a woman that was crossing the road. The skimpily dressed girl rolled down the window, yelling insults at the woman that was still frozen in fear.
Derek could almost hear that couple of idiots laughing. Gritting his teeth, he called a cab and started to plan his final act.
First, he started to stalk Chris on all the social networks, learning all his routines and habits. Then Derek began to follow him, and planted a GPS tracker under the Camaro to always know his exact location.
Simply skimming through Chris' Chirper, he found at least fifty violations of the parole deal. While following him, Derek took many photos of Chris abusing alcohol and drugs.
But Derek had no intention to submit the evidence to the police. What could he possibly gain from that? Chris would just get another slap on the wrist and then start being more careful.
Derek had not the luxury of time, nor the willingness of doing what the so-called justice system was supposed to.
Less than a week later, by checking Chris' Bookface page, Derek learnt of a rave he would participate to. Derek double checked his equipment and jumped into his new car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala.
The best car to hunt monsters with. The rave was "secret", hence it would take place in some run-down abandoned location.
Derek followed Chris closely, and as soon they were away from traffic cams he run into the Camaro from the side, forcing Chris to halt.
As soon as Chris stepped down of the car, Derek took him down with a stun gun, and then quickly proceeded to check if the Camaro had more passengers.
It seemed to be his lucky night, Chris was driving alone. Derek searched him and crushed every electronic device he could find, bitfit, smartphone, even Chris' keychain.
Derek tied him hands and feet and ball gagged him. Then he destroyed his own smartphone and the GPS tracker, tossing everything outside the road.
Then he moved Chris in the trunk of the Impala, headed toward a party only for the two of them.
Derek drove to an abandoned warehouse in the old industrial area. He had already got rid of the lock and chain that kept the big metallic doors closed, replacing them with his own.
Inside the warehouse there were only two chairs, both bolted to the ground, a bucket and several water tanks.
Derek opened the trunk, discovering that Chris had regained his senses so he tased him again. Then he took Chris to a chair and started tightly binding his arms and legs to it.
Then Derek splashed him with a bucket of water forcing him to regain focus.
"Hello, Chris. My name is Derek Esposito, and you killed my brother. We need to talk."
Chris tried getting out of the restraints, and while commending his efforts, Derek violently hit him in the groin with a nightstick. The pain paralyzed him.
"Were was I? Oh, yes. The last time we saw each other was during your farce-trial. Do you remember me?" Chris' panting intensified.
"Good. Let's get straight to business." Derek took two digital timers out of the car, setting the first to thirty minutes and the second to two hours, forty-four minutes and sixteen seconds.
Then, he pulled out a gun and double tapped Chris' liver. His scream was muffled by the gag ball, but the shots echoed loudly in the empty warehouse.
Derek started both timers simultaneously and came in close, checking the blood. It was dense and black, a clear indicator of a crushed liver.
"Now before the real pain settles in, I need you to take a good look to the timers, they are really important." Chris was crying and screaming, so Derek had to splash him again and pull him by hair to get his attention.
"The first timer marks how much time you have left. After it rings, even if someone should miraculously break through that door and rescue you, you would be dead anyway. You have only so much time until your system gets flooded by toxins unfiltered by the liver, to the point that no transplant can save you. The second timer is a surprise. We'll get to it in time. For now, your only task is to stay awake and savour every moment of pain, like Carl did."
The time flew, Chris kept screaming through the gag ball, and soon the fist timer rang.
Chris started sobbing even stronger, sometimes stopping only because overwhelmed by the constantly rising pain.
Derek would speak to him no longer, he would just pace back and forth, occasionally checking the second timer.
Every time Chris fainted, Derek would splash him and force him to stay awake before refilling the bucket.
When the second timer rang, Derek finally spoke again.
"I have bad news and I have good news. The bad news is that I lied before. I thoroughly researched liver injuries, and with such crushed liver you had no hope to begin with. Even if I had shot you in front of the best hospital in the USA, unless they had a compatible liver at hand, you would have died. I wanted to give you false hope, as happened to my brother while waiting for help. The good news is that you just suffered as long as Carl did. I may be many things, unrelenting, vengeful, a liar, a murderer but I am also fair. So your suffering ends now."
Derek pointed the gun to Chris' head and double tapped him.
Then he pointed it to his own head.
"Little brother, I'm coming. Wait for me." And pulled the trigger one last time.
While Derek's body was still falling, his consciousness was basked in light and he felt pulled toward the sky.
After months of grieving, a whole lifetime of misery and pain, Derek felt that all his traumas and hatred were fading away.
Derek had never experienced such bliss. In this new form he felt no negative emotion, he was in peace with his past, unafraid of his future.
Derek was enjoying a present that he felt could lead to endless possibilities, and there was no right and wrong, success or failure. He would simply be, no strings attached.
That intoxicating feeling lasted until he suddenly woke up, alive and breathing.
All his negative emotions returned, plunging him back into despair. Derek cursed inwardly while trying to focus his eyes. Maybe it was because of the shot to the head, but his vision was blurry.
"So much for the perfect plan. Some idiot must have rescued me and somehow I survived the journey to the hospital. I am still alive. I still have cancer. I am still alone." But when his eyes finally cleared up, they strongly disagreed with his reasoning.
Derek was in some kind of huge metal corridor surrounded by dead bodies. Alien dead bodies to be precise. They were all wearing some kind of full body armour, that resembled some kind of sci-fi space suit.
"Where the f**k am I? What the hell does this mean?" He screamed while trying to get up, only to fall back on the floor.
He fell hand first, and only then he noticed that he was wearing a space suit too, and that his hands, all four of them, had three fingers each.
"WHAT! THE! ACTUAL! F**K!"
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Chapter 3 Prologue 3
Supreme Magus : Chapter 3 Prologue 3
Supreme Magus : Chapter 2 Prologue 2
Chapter 2 Prologue 2
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Supreme Magus : Chapter 1 Prologue
No matter if you are a pessimist or an optimist, Derek Esposito's life wasn't a good one nor a bad one. It was just a mediocre insignificant existence.
His father was a bipolar abusive man, capable of disappearing is his bedroom for days during the depressive phase. He would wake up only to eat, use the bathroom and the occasional "let's make your life miserable" fit of rage.
During his euphoric phase, he would work like a madman, but not having any talent either as a businessman nor as social climber, he was unable to both being successful and establishing the right connections.
In his natural state, whenever he decided to actually take his medications, he was just a coach potato that would stand up and go to work just to avoid the blame and spite from neighbours and peers.
Whatever was his mental condition, he always was a perfect example of an abusive father.
His sons were always a disgrace in his eyes.
They never studied hard enough, never were disciplined enough, nor did show enough respect.
And he was always there to remember them how wrong they were.
He would yell at them for the slightest mistake, constantly reminding them that they were just parasites that leeched off his hard work.
And when words weren't enough or when they did fail to meet his expectation with school grades or chores, there was no teacher like his leather belt.
Hence, Derek and Carl had to quickly learn how to fend off for themselves, since their absent-minded mother practically forgot about them right after giving birth, dedicating her life in pursue of peace and quiet, staying as far as possible from her spouse tantrums.
Derek was two years older, and desperately tried to take care of his little brother, but to no avail.
They grew up watching and reading stories about heroes protecting the weak and upholding justice. But no hero ever appeared to save them.
Every week they would be forced to go to church to worship a nondescript benevolent god and his son, the saviour of all mankind. But no matter how much they prayed or how good they were, no miracle occurred.
So, they simply stopped believing in heroes and instead of wasting time with prayers they crammed.
School was their only oasis, but that lasted only until the sixth grade.
Once in middle school, it didn't even take a month before the bullying started.
Their cheap clothes and gloomy disposition made them the easiest targets. They were so used being tossed around and insulted that they didn't even bother trying to fight back.
For a long time, Derek had considered it the worst moment in his useless life. After a month, he knew he could not take any more of that, so he tried to make things better.
He reported his father's abuses to the social services with an anonymous email, but being overworked and understaffed the social work assistant made a brief visit and never came back.
Then he tried to end the bullying by reporting their aggressors to a teacher, which in turn washed her hands by reporting it to the principal. The principal did not want to meddle with what he deemed as childish pranks, so he called Derek's parents to inform them of the problem, hoping they would let it slide. And at least his wish came true.
Derek, instead, took and extra beating for not being man enough to face his own problems.
"Are you really that stupid to never learn anything from me? Never delegate, if you want something done right, do it yourself!"
Derek had never felt so helpless and desperate, so that night he bawled his eyes out, until he fell asleep. That had been the last straw.
The next day he felt different, clearheaded like never before. It was not the time for despair anymore, he needed a plan.
It would take him years to realize that something inside him had died. He was no longer able to trust, hope or develop any sense of kinship. He was surrounded by enemies, and to survive Derek needed to be able to fight back.
So, Derek asked his father to let him join a dojo and learn martial arts, and to his surprise he did not have to beg or even ask twice. His old man was glad that his wimpy and scrawny poor excuse of a child was finally interested in becoming a man. His only condition was that Derek was not allowed to quit for at least one year, otherwise he would have to pay for it.
Not only Derek started practicing aikido almost daily, he would also wake up two hours earlier every single day to build muscles doing push ups, squats, sit ups and running until he was out of breath.
In a few months he was finally able to do every day 100 push ups, sit ups and squats and run for at least 10 kilometres before going to school.
Aikido soon revealed to be a perfect choice for his situation. At low level was mainly focused on self defence but there plenty of space for attacking and fighting dirty.
By practicing martial arts, he finally discovered something he was good at. He was not particularly nimble, nor a fast learner. His hand to eye coordination was also average at best. His talent lied in the ability to spot the best time to hit a sensible spot during a block or a defensive manoeuvre.
Even when the sensei was teaching sword or tanto arts, Derek was always able to grasp the killing moves at his first try, sometimes even before the sensei completed the practical demonstration.
It was an exciting yet disappointing discovery since his only talent had no practical use. Even if aikido was a sport with tournaments instead of a discipline, hits to groin, eyes and trachea were universally forbidden.
For months Derek kept training hard while keeping a low profile at school, planning his next move.
At the end of the first semester, Derek stopped hiding from the bullies and started replying in kind to every single insult they threw at him, using the best quick-witted roast lines he had found online. Derek paid attention to never go to the bathroom or to remain alone for too long, always keeping and adult witness in line of sight.
It did not even take a full day before his enemies were fuming and outraged. Only when the veins almost popped out their necks, he threw his bait.
"I have enough of your sh*t, as*holes. Meet me in an hour behind the grocery shop between Lincoln and the 3rd. Or are you too scared?"
"Since you seek death, I will happily grant your wish, you fag*ot. It will only be you and the three of us, alright?"
Derek nodded without believing him in the least. And he was right.
When they entered the back alley, they had brought along two more people.
Derek was waiting for them, leaned against the wall at the end of the blind alley.
"There you are. I was starting to think you would stand me up."
They started laughing. "Sorry we were late. Hope you do not mind we taking some friends for the party."
Derek shrugged, while grinning from ear to ear.
"No problem. No matter how much, worthless trash is always trash. I chose this alley because it's fully equipped with enough dumpsters to accommodate all of your friends."
The last line hit a nerve so they charged at him blindly.
"Gang up on him, guys! Do not let him escape! Let's how him who is the trash."
And so, they fell into his trap. Derek had come here preparing the terrain, and choosing the best spot the fight. A blind alley to not make them escape, the end of the alley so they would not notice the trip wire due to the dim light.
The first two fell down hard on the concrete, and those behind them were so worried about not trampling on their friends that never saw the steel pipe coming.
They did come in numbers, Derek had come fully armed. Using the pipe as a sword he quickly hit them respectively on the head, the side of the knee, in the groin. Only then he started hitting the two that were trying to get back on their feet.
While they were moaning and sobbing on the ground, he used a small knife to cut the trip wire, then he started beating them again and again with the metal pipe giving a special attention to the nether regions.
Deeply inside he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he could not care less. If the world was built to be unfair, the only possible course of action was to make it unfair at his advantage.
So, he took out the taser that he borrowed from his father and tased them until unconscious. Then he stripped them completely and took multiple photos of each one of them and even filmed them after arranging them so that they would seem to be spooning to each other. Then he splashed them with a bucket of cold water and sealed the deal.
"Sorry to ruin your Brokeback Mountain moment girls, but I need your attention for a minute."
When the bullies woke up, they were still in so much pain they could barely notice that they were naked and embracing each other. Retorting to Derek while he had still a firm grip on the steel pipe was out of question, so they kept quiet and listened.
"I have made quite a scrapbook of you, even a short movie, uploaded it on my computer and even into the cloud. And it would be terrible if someone, I do not know, like me, for example would upload them on all the biggest image hosting sites. You know how they say, internet never forgets."
The bullies started crying and begging.
"Imagine how terrible would it be! Whenever someone would Boogle your names, be it your grandma, your girlfriends or even the colleges you were willing to apply to, the first thing to appear would be those photos!"
"Dude, no!" "Please, I do not even know you. I was just making a favour to a friend!" "It was only a joke, please forgive me!"
The choir of begging gave him the goose bumps. Derek wanted to puke at their hypocrisy.
"I do not care for your pathetic excuses! From this day onward, you will leave me alone. And you better pray that nothing happens to me, because the cloud is set so that if I do not enter the password every day, it will upload them everywhere."
Without waiting for their reply, he turned back and walked away.
"Almost forgetting, I randomly threw your clothes in the dumpsters, can't remember which is which. If you don't want to go home in your birthday suit, you better start digging. So long, suckers!"
Derek returned home euphoric, almost singing. He had never felt so proud of himself and had the completely undeserved confidence that he would never think about those b*stards ever again.