NTheer gazed out the window as the school bus rolled along the winding road, the sunlight flooding the interior with brilliant, almost blinding rays. The warmth seeped through the glass, wrapping around him like a cozy blanket. With his earbuds securely in place, he hummed softly to the rhythm of the music that filled his ears, his fingers tapping gently against the worn windowsill.
Around him, utter chaos reigned. The bus erupted with the raucous sounds of teenagers — a cacophony of laughter, mocking shouts, and the occasional shriek from couples tangled together, oblivious to the world around them. Crumpled papers, sneakers, and even a stray pair of boxers flew through the air like confetti at a celebration, much to the delight of the rowdy passengers.
Seated at the front, the teacher seemed decidedly worse for wear. The unfortunate man was battling car sickness, his complexion pale and clammy, as he struggled with a paper bag that he clutched desperately to his chest. The teenagers relished this stroke of luck, their volume reaching a fever pitch as their teacher obediently yielded to his discomfort.
Concern momentarily overtook Xavier as he watched the teacher's distress unfold. A faint frown creased his forehead before he returned to his own reflection in the window. His brown skin contrasted against the sunlit glass, framed by a mass of black curls. The most striking feature, though, was his vivid green eyes, shimmering like emeralds — a rarity that set him apart even amongst his own family, much to the intrigue of others around him. It garnered whispers and stares, though he seldom cared for the attention.
"Hey, buddy. You back to Earth?" called Brian, his best friend, jolting Xavier from his reverie.
Xavier rolled his eyes and removed his earbuds, turning toward the grinning face beside him. "I'm not lost, Brian," he replied evenly. "Just thinking."
Brian leaned back against his seat, an exaggerated pout on his lips. "You think all the time. What in the world could you possibly be contemplating?"
"Anything that pops into my head," Xavier shrugged nonchalantly.
"I'm so bored," Brian groaned, sinking deeper into his seat. "It's Saturday, and here we are, trapped on a school trip to a forest where who knows what lurks!"
"It's not all bad," Xavier shot back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "At least you have the chance to daydream about making out with Bella."
Brian scoffed, waving dismissively at the girl in question, who was lost in conversation with her friends at the back of the bus. "Yeah, right. She doesn't even know I exist."
"True, but you'll never know unless you try." With that, Xavier slipped his earbuds back in and resumed humming, closing himself off again from the frenzy around him.
The bus remained a whirlwind of raucous energy. Laughter echoed like music, filling Xavier's ears until a sudden, jarring impact interrupted his focus. An unexpected force slammed into the back of his head, jolting his nose against the window frame, rattling the glass like thunder.
In an instant, the bus fell silent. The air thickened with tension, and Xavier could practically hear a pin drop. Slowly, he pulled out his earbuds, the whispers around him growing louder with speculations.
"Oh, crap."
"He's done for."
"Someone's gonna pay for that."
"Who the hell threw it?"
Xavier turned to face the crowd, a simmering annoyance replacing his usual calm demeanor. He silently touched his nose, studying his fingers as they came away stained with blood. Finally, he looked down to retrieve the offending object: a worn soccer boot.
"Who threw this?" His voice cut through the silence like a knife, instilling a sense of dread among his peers.
No one spoke; the bus remained eerily quiet.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" he pressed, his tone like cold steel.
Still, silence prevailed until the teacher paused in his retching and looked up, eyes wide.
Then, it broke.
"It was me," came the casual voice from the front.
Xavier turned his gaze toward the source—a boy named Dennis, notorious for his bullying antics. A wicked grin stretched across Dennis's face as he reveled in the chaos he had created.
"Watch yourself," Xavier warned, returning his attention to the window, calm yet steadfast.
"Man, I thought he might actually retaliate." Dennis chuckled. "Why do people fear him so much?"
"Are you out of your mind?" his friend snapped, smacking Dennis upside the head in frustration. "What's wrong with you?"
"Why'd you do that?" Dennis whined, his bravado faltering.
"Just because he's not retaliating now doesn't mean you're in the clear," his friend replied, indignation coloring his words.
"What?"
"When he first arrived at our school, the guys targeted him—racist taunts, punches, and stealing his money. It was brutal."
"So?"
"Then one day, he snapped. Took down those who bullied him like it was a game. Beat some of them so badly that they're still recovering. He had all of it documented; pictures, proof. He threatened to expose them if they touched him again."
"Where was I during all this?" Dennis stammered, disbelief etched on his face.
"Probably sleeping it off after one of your wild nights," his friend retorted.
Dennis shot a wary glance at Xavier, now pondering just how powerful Xavier might truly be.
Brian tapped Xavier's shoulder gently, concern etched on his face. "You good?" he asked, eyes searching.
"I'm alright," Xavier replied, massaging his nose.
"That jerk Dennis did that on purpose," Brian muttered, anger simmering in his voice.
"I know."
"Are you going to confront him?"
"Only if he lays a finger on me," Xavier replied coolly.
Before he could settle back into his music, the bus lurched to a sudden stop, jerking him forward painfully. His forehead collided with the seat in front of him.
"Twice in one trip," he muttered, half in pain, half in astonishment.
The driver had brought the bus to a standstill, and the nervous chatter began again.
"What the hell, old man!" someone shouted, frustration rising in the cramped space. "We're not buckled in!"
The driver remained motionless, eyes fixed on something outside the window.
"Is everything alright, Mr. Baker?" the teacher inquired, his voice tinged with worry.
But there was no answer. The teacher moved closer to the front, seeking to uncover whatever mystery had captured the driver's attention.
Xavier gazed out the window as the school bus rolled along the winding road, the sunlight flooding the interior with brilliant, almost blinding rays. The warmth seeped through the glass, wrapping around him like a cozy blanket. With his earbuds securely in place, he hummed softly to the rhythm of the music that filled his ears, his fingers tapping gently against the worn windowsill.
Around him, utter chaos reigned. The bus erupted with the raucous sounds of teenagers — a cacophony of laughter, mocking shouts, and the occasional shriek from couples tangled together, oblivious to the world around them. Crumpled papers, sneakers, and even a stray pair of boxers flew through the air like confetti at a celebration, much to the delight of the rowdy passengers.
Seated at the front, the teacher seemed decidedly worse for wear. The unfortunate man was battling car sickness, his complexion pale and clammy, as he struggled with a paper bag that he clutched desperately to his chest. The teenagers relished this stroke of luck, their volume reaching a fever pitch as their teacher obediently yielded to his discomfort.
Concern momentarily overtook Xavier as he watched the teacher's distress unfold. A faint frown creased his forehead before he returned to his own reflection in the window. His brown skin contrasted against the sunlit glass, framed by a mass of black curls. The most striking feature, though, were his vivid green eyes, shimmering like emeralds — a rarity that set him apart even amongst his own family, much to the intrigue of others around him. It garnered whispers and stares, though he seldom cared for the attention.
"Hey, buddy. You back to Earth?" called Brian, his best friend, jolting Xavier from his reverie.
Xavier rolled his eyes and removed his earbuds, turning toward the grinning face beside him. "I'm not lost, Brian," he replied evenly. "Just thinking."
Brian leaned back against his seat, an exaggerated pout on his lips. "You think all the time. What in the world could you possibly be contemplating?"
"Anything that pops into my head," Xavier shrugged nonchalantly.
"I'm so bored," Brian groaned, sinking deeper into his seat. "It's Saturday, and here we are, trapped on a school trip to a forest where who knows what lurks!"
"It's not all bad," Xavier shot back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "At least you have the chance to daydream about making out with Bella."
Brian scoffed, waving dismissively at the girl in question, who was lost in conversation with her friends at the back of the bus. "Yeah, right. She doesn't even know I exist."
"True, but you'll never know unless you try." With that, Xavier slipped his earbuds back in and resumed humming, closing himself off again from the frenzy around him.
The bus remained a whirlwind of raucous energy. Laughter echoed like music, filling Xavier's ears until a sudden, jarring impact interrupted his focus. An unexpected force slammed into the back of his head, jolting his nose against the window frame, rattling the glass like thunder.
In an instant, the bus fell silent. The air thickened with tension, and Xavier could practically hear a pin drop. Slowly, he pulled out his earbuds, the whispers around him growing louder with speculations.
"Oh, crap."
"He's done for."
"Someone's gonna pay for that."
"Who the hell threw it?"
Xavier turned to face the crowd, a simmering annoyance replacing his usual calm demeanor. He silently touched his nose, studying his fingers as they came away stained with blood. Finally, he looked down to retrieve the offending object: a worn soccer boot.
"Who threw this?" His voice cut through the silence like a knife, instilling a sense of dread among his peers.
No one spoke; the bus remained eerily quiet.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" he pressed, his tone like cold steel.
Still, silence prevailed until the teacher paused in his retching and looked up, eyes wide.
Then, it broke.
"It was me," came the casual voice from the front.
Xavier turned his gaze toward the source—a boy named Dennis, notorious for his bullying antics. A wicked grin stretched across Dennis's face as he reveled in the chaos he had created.
"Watch yourself," Xavier warned, returning his attention to the window, calm yet steadfast.
"Man, I thought he might actually retaliate." Dennis chuckled. "Why do people fear him so much?"
"Are you out of your mind?" his friend snapped, smacking Dennis upside the head in frustration. "What's wrong with you?"
"Why'd you do that?" Dennis whined, his bravado faltering.
"Just because he's not retaliating now doesn't mean you're in the clear," his friend replied, indignation coloring his words.
"What?"
"When he first arrived at our school, the guys targeted him—racist taunts, punches, and stealing his money. It was brutal."
"So?"
"Then one day, he snapped. Took down those who bullied him like it was a game. Beat some of them so badly that they're still recovering. He had all of it documented; pictures, proof. He threatened to expose them if they touched him again."
"Where was I during all this?" Dennis stammered, disbelief etched on his face.
"Probably sleeping it off after one of your wild nights," his friend retorted.
Dennis shot a wary glance at Xavier, now pondering just how powerful Xavier might truly be.
Brian tapped Xavier's shoulder gently, concern etched on his face. "You good?" he asked, eyes searching.
"I'm alright," Xavier replied, massaging his nose.
"That jerk Dennis did that on purpose," Brian muttered, anger simmering in his voice.
"I know."
"Are you going to confront him?"
"Only if he lays a finger on me," Xavier replied coolly.
Before he could settle back into his music, the bus lurched to a sudden stop, jerking him forward painfully. His forehead collided with the seat in front of him.
"Twice in one trip," he muttered, half in pain, half in astonishment.
The driver had brought the bus to a standstill, and the nervous chatter began again.
"What the hell, old man!" someone shouted, frustration rising in the cramped space. "We're not buckled in!"
The driver remained motionless, eyes fixed on something outside the window.
"Is everything alright, Mr. Baker?" the teacher inquired, his voice tinged with worry.
But there was no answer. The teacher moved closer to the front, seeking to uncover whatever mystery had captured the driver's attention.
"My goodness. " He croaked in shock.
Xavier, confused, turned to Brian who had the same expression on his face.
"What's going on?" He asked Brian.
He was replied to with a shrug. People were confused. Chatters were echoing everywhere. What was going on? What was making the two grown adults stare like deer caught in headlights?
Xavier watched as teenagers opened the windows beside them and craned their heads outside.
He did the same, opening the window and gazing outside. What he saw made his eyes widen and he gasped.
Outside, lying on the road in front of the bus. A white woman, naked, maggot-infested, skin pale and decaying. Her breasts were out and crawling with insects and maggots diving on the nipples like it was a swimming pool.
Her hair was golden, or was gold, because right now it was covered in dust and now resembled brown. Blue tattooed lines criss-crossing her face, stomach, and thighs like she was from a European tribe.
Her eyes were gone. No eyeball, no pupils, just dark, endless holes like a scarecrow's makeup gone wrong.
Xavier needed no Sherlock Holmes.
He needed no detective.
Heck, he didn't even need to be born smart to know what that was.
Any normal human being could figure out what that was.
Yeah, Xavier and his classmates had stumbled into a nasty surprise.
The excursion was gonna wait for a long time.
They were gazing upon a dead body.
A/N:
I kindly request your support for my narrative through the provision of gifts and power stones. Thank you for your consideration.