Project: Death for Classroom Zero

Chapter 40: Even If He Was Tired

“Damn it.”

Caspian Jones could not sleep. He was biting the edge of his white blanket as he writhed his body, feeling a certain surge of pain. There was a strong stinging sensation cursing through his arm. Particularly, to the deep s***h of wound that had ripped and opened his flesh.

There were no blood oozing from it anymore. Unlike earlier, he felt that he would pass unconscious from the liters of blood escaping from his veins.

Another flick of pain throbbed on his wound. With that, he grunted. Cold pearls of sweat was forming on his forehead, and falling on his cheeks.

“Damn that reaper. Damn his scythe.”

He twisted his body again. Trying to move his arms, he grunted and cried. He could not feel anything but pain. He does not even know if he can feel his arms moving—even open and closing the hand that was affected, he does not know if he was doing it properly. His gaze were hazy. His mind fogged.

What an unfortunate fate he is suffering inside this Class Zero program. He was once the bully—the leader of the alpha who attempted to dominate through the whole class; but soon when he was seen weak (as if not everyone has weakness), he was overthrown from his position. Overthrown by people whom he had treated as his friend. His family. He had suffered from an extremely dangerous chest injury because of fighting Tristan and Rain—but soon, the fate is a tricky factor of the world, for they were the ones who had saved him.

Now this: his arm. The extreme pain he was suffering on his arm had made him think of what purpose he was still having with his tumultuous life? Was the last purpose of his life is to feel nothing but unbearable pain? Suffer and pay through the sins he had done on his lifetime?

“If that is my f*****g purpose, then I would prefer death than living,” Caspian said. He was smiling as he said those words. But on his eyes, the melancholic tears was drastically falling. “Damn it. Damn life.”

Feeling another thrust of pain on his rip-opened flesh, he grunted again. Then muttered, “bullshit.” He made a deep inhale to control his tears; to control showing to the real world what his vulnerability was.

With another sigh, he had finally decided to go to the rest facility of their school building. He needs to go to the school clinic once again, so that he could tend to this painful wound he was suffering. It was horribly glaring at him as it sat from his now-weak arms.

With a weak body, he went out of his room. He did a grunt and gasp as he closed his door. Now with his disoriented stare, he started travelling the alley.

From time to time, he would just realize that he was hitting the wall on the alley. Sometimes, his wound would touch on the white painted wall, and would cause him to shriek loudly. As if he was being insanely tortured.

Who would not, if his wound was as big as the cut of scythe on his arm?

This reality is a nightmare for Caspian.

Nightmares and dreams were much more better for Caspian, than piteously experiencing the current reality that he was facing. At least, on his dreamland, the only thing he could worry about was the fear lumping inside his chest. Nothing more. Because in this kind of nightmarish reality, he was suffering from real pain and damage, both inside and on his body—and it was a more horrifying experience than entering the fields of horrible nightmares alone.

“But for the sake of my life until its last line, I would not kill my self,” he said, promising.

He needs to pass through a certain alley, and turn onto another direction just so he could get towards the school clinic.

Turning to another direction, he suddenly stopped. He saw something on the way ahead, and it was the reason why he froze. With a jerk, he managed to find a spot, and then he hid on the wall he had gone earlier.

He peaked towards the alley once again. There he saw two people walking on the far front. They were casually walking, and casually talking to each other.

But the ever critic once-an-alpha of the bullies does not just take that as a simple scene. Not for him.

He saw Tristan and Rain talking to each other. With high probability, they would go to the cafeteria. A usual scene—a simple student would say. But with how they wear their black hoods and cap, Caspian felt that something was happening on the two.

They were about to do something that they haven’t told to others.

The ever curious Caspian, he knows, that he needs to secretly follow them in wherever they would go. Even if his body was tired.