Felix sighed, and looked out of the window. He gazed sluggishly at the bright blue sky and the puffy white cotton balls-clouds-that dotted it; breaking the endlessness apart.
English class was boring and seemed to last forever.
He turned his head and looked at the teacher who droned on about who-knows-what. Three-fourths of the class seemed to not be paying attention. He could see four or five that were sleeping soundly, their heads resting on top of their folded arms.
Felix had moved from Sweden to America because of his dad, who had been lured by a job offer from he company he worked at. They had packed and left almost immediately. Felix had been reluctant to leave and annoyed at the fact that his dad accepted offers so easily.
He heard the bell ring and, as fast as he could, he left the classroom as soon as the teacher said "Class dismissed!"
His nimble fingers flitted across his locker as he pushed the combination encoded in his brain into the handle so he could get his stuff inside.
After getting what he needed, he walked out of the school-his house was close by-with no one.
Indeed. With no one.
He had not made any friends in the three months he had been here.
Everyone either seemed to be annoyed at him, not interested in him, or downright rude to him. It was rather annoying, and sometimes the older, tougher kids would go to use him as a punching bag.
He heard loud footsteps in front of him, and he looked up with weary blue eyes.
He saw three boys. Tough, muscular, almost stereotypical delinquents. He didn't know what their names were, but he had seen them bullying small and weak kids before.
"Hello," Felix droned.
"Why, hello there!" The leader laughed. "I hope you don't mind us... Beating you up."
Felix's eyes widened, and, before he knew it, he was being knocked to the ground. Gravel scratched his face and the impact made his head fuzzy. He said nothing as they kicked him. He just lay pathetically on the ground.
"What are you doing?"
The foreign voice was smooth and monotone, deep and flowing. Felix cracked open an eyelid and saw a strange man standing there.
He looked no older than 20, with straight and flat-ended white hair, the tips a shade of light gray, and a cowlick sticking up on his scalp. His skin was deathly pale and his eyes were the color of the ocean, with touches of dark purple. The black hoodie and sweatpants contrasted his pale, tall, and lanky form. Even odder, what appeared to be a blank white mask was covering the right side of is face.
"Who the hell are you?" One of them said menacingly.
"None of your business," the man replied smoothly.
He walked over and gently pressed the toes of his black boot onto Felix's shoulder. "Now, boys, what did he ever do to you?"
"We're no boys!" Spat the leader, who swung a punch at the man.
The man raised his hand, and blocked the fist without even flinching.
The delinquents froze in shock as the man picked Felix up. He muttered, "Fools," then disappeared back into the shadows.
"Who...?" Felix said, voice raspy, as soon as they were out of sight.
The man looked down at him, and Felix found himself lost in the myriad of colors swirling together; trapping him, binding him.
"You can call me Chaos," the man smiled softly, "Now, let's get you patched up.
WEll, this sort of came out. I wrote this because of a plot bunny, but I'm not sure what I should do next. i quite like this, though, and I will continue it. See you next time!
~BakedBeanFart