Chapter 1
The boy lay on the floor, underneath his bed, shivering from the cold. He knew that he would be warmer under the covers, but he would also be more vulnerable. He hadn't even dared to bring a blanket with him, for fear that they would notice it was missing.
They were the Snake Gang. At least, that's what they called themselves. They didn't really look very snake-like, except perhaps in their beady, glittering eyes, which were set deep into their pudgy faces. They were large and clumsy, yet strong and vicious enough to make the boy's life completely miserable.
The Snake Gang had been together since first form, and now, three years later, having a new student in school to pick on provided endless delight, particularly one as small and meek as the boy. Since his first day, some ten weeks ago, the Snake Gang had terrorized him: chasing him into dark corners, taunting him, stealing his food at mealtime, tearing up his schoolwork, and pummeling him with their fists at least twice a day. The Schoolmasters never asked where the boy had received his many bruises. They knew, and remained silent. The boy was a charity case, an orphan with an unknown benefactor who paid his school fees, but little more. They all knew that he was unlikely to stay in the school beyond that year, and so no one was compelled to make any efforts on his behalf.
Sometimes, the boy wished he were a girl. Girls used words as their weapons, cutting you to the quick with their sharp insults. But that was preferable to the physical pain he was subjected to on a daily basis.
Fortunately, the boy had been assigned to a dormitory that was different from the one in which the Snake Gang slept. Unfortunately, the past few nights they had taken to wandering the halls, and they had discovered where the boy slept. The last two evenings, they had dragged him from his bed, only to beat him to satisfy their violent urges.
Tonight would be no different. But only if they found him.
The boy shivered, pulling back into the darkness under his bed. It wasn't the best hiding place, but it was the only one he could think of without leaving the room. Leaving would be worse. If one of the Schoolmasters caught him, he would be sent back, and the Snake Gang would likely see him return.
He saw the sliver of light that came in from the door grow larger, saw the Snake Gang enter the dormitory. They ignored the other boys. They weren't as much fun to torment as he was. He had no idea why they had selected him to be the target of their brutal tactics, but had merely borne it for as long as he could.
He didn't want to bear it any longer.
A voice in his head told him that he shouldn't have to be subjected to this. That he was a valuable person in his own right, and deserved better. The boy had no idea whose voice it was. Maybe something from his barely remembered father? He had scoffed at the words at first, but the more he suffered, the more he listened. They offered him a way out, a salvation. So tonight, he had decided to fight back.
He was hiding.
It was a small resistance, but one that he had never before considered. It was something.
In the darkness, he saw the green of their scarves. Although they were required to wear the school uniform, they always added the green scarves. Green symbolized the color of the snake: their chosen symbol. Snakes struck out when you least expected it, killing with only a bite.
The boy hated green.
Garin, their leader, came to his bed. The boy could see his tormentor's shoes, only inches in front of his face. He trembled and wept, but did not make a sound.
"Where is he?" Garin shouted, oblivious to the other sleeping boys in the room. "Where is that little runt?"
"He's not there?" asked Blaz. Blaz was the biggest and strongest member of the Snake Gang. Interestingly enough, he was also the least intelligent. He was easily led around by Garin.
"No!" Garin hissed, flinging back the covers. "He's hiding."
The other boys feigned sleep in their beds. They knew better than to get involved in something like this. But they weren't allowed to fade into the background.
"Tell us!" fumed Loring, the third member of the gang. Loring was very handsome, in a cold, cruel sort of way. Sometimes the boy felt that Loring must be the child of the Devil himself, the way his inhuman beauty combined with his sadistic nature. Now, Loring ripped the blankets off of the nearest bed, demanding information. The occupant muttered that he didn't know.
No one knew where the boy had gone.
Garin was furious. He threatened bodily harm to everyone if they did not reveal the boy's whereabouts. But they could not, because they didn't know. Even in the dark, the boy imagined Garin's eyes blazing like hot coals.
The boy watched Garin's feet as he walked around the bed, eventually stopping on the other side.
Suddenly, without warning, Garin's face was in front of his.
"Well, look what I found!" he sneered, dragging the boy out from under his bed. "He tried to hide, and look at what a pathetic place he chose! Right under our noses!"
Loring and Blaz came up behind him, laughing and taunting the boy. He didn't hear their words any more; he merely steeled himself for the first blow.
It was not long in coming. Garin held him up by the scruff of his neck, burying his other hand in the boy's stomach. Before he could even take a breath, he felt Loring and Blaz pummeling him from behind.
Garin let go of him, but the boy's legs were too weak to stand. He crumpled to the floor, trying desperately to cover his head as the three kicked him with their hard-toed shoes. A haze of red washed over his vision. He had never known that he could feel this much pain.
He knew he was going to die, and no one else in the room was going to do anything about it. They were all too afraid. Afraid of power. No one was strong-minded enough to stand up to the viciousness of the Snake Gang. In his own simple way, the boy had tried… and failed.
This was not the way the boy had expected to end his life, but it was probably for the best. He had no parents, no one who loved him, no one whom he could even call a friend. Only that voice in the back of his head that insisted that he deserved better. The world would not miss him.