Inside the computer lab turned media studio, Courtney Tyler sat behind a curved cherry wood news desk. She straightened her back, stared past the cameraman counting down his fingers, and locked eyes with her boss. Across the studio, Libby Folfax offered Courtney a trusting nod. Courtney smiled back and watched the cameraman's final digit disappear.

We're live, the preteen mouthed.

Courtney's smile turned grim. "Hello, everyone. I would say good morning, but we all know that would be a lie. I'm aware why you've all tuned in today, and we will get to that very soon. But first, we have to check in on two other stories we've been covering." Courtney closed her eyes and forced her disgust aside. "First up is an abbreviated version of Deep Dish with Meagan Miller."

The cameraman swung his camera right, towards the dirty blonde straddling a chair. She nodded along as her theme song played.

Donk-dicka-donk-da-cha, that's spicy!

"I don't have a lot of time today," Megan growled, "so let's grab a spoon and dig right in. For the past month, we've been keeping tabs on Jimmy Neutron while he puts on a penitent performance. But we here at Deep Dish know it's just an act. We've caught him failing at being a tutor…"

Megan's gaze flitted to a nearby television screening their broadcast. Over Megan's shoulder, a picture of her holding up a history test materialized. Bright red ink marked her failure with an enormous "D."

"Slacking off…"

Next was a picture of Jimmy sleeping in his near pitch-black bedroom.

"And even using food poisoning," Meagan flashed air quotes, " as an excuse to get out of his duties."

The final picture showed a delirious Jimmy in the nurse's office spewing vomit towards the camera.

"Sorry, Neutron. But you can't puke your way out of this. Because I'm the one who's sick…of you!" Megan snarled. "My best friend was promised principal for a day and what did she get instead? A freaking IOU for a book report consultation. Consultation?" Meagan screamed in disbelief. "What the heck does that even mean? And now polls show his approval numbers are back in the double digits. How could anyone forgive this snot-nosed pipsqueak?"

Safe from the camera's gaze, Courtney rolled her eyes and loudly said, "Thank you, Meagan. I'm sure-"

"Not yet!" Meagan roared while flinging her chair across the studio and straight through a weak patch of drywall. "This stew's boiling and ready to eat! You're on my hit list, Neutron. And Principal Clarke, if you're watching? That wasn't a threat." Meagan clasped her hands in an angelic pose, leaned towards the camera, and flashed a coy smile. "It's a promise."

Courtney cleared her throat and drew the camera's lens. "Back to actual news-"

"Hey!"

"We have an update on the upcoming Spring Fling Dance," Courtney set her notes down and steepled her fingers. "On Monday, an anonymously drafted petition asked for support of a ban on same-sex couples at the dance. Throughout the week, this document has circulated throughout the school. The signature count may be low, but any support is too much. Combined with a small but noticeable surge of LGBTQ bullying, the petition has earned a sharp rebuke from both Principal Clarke and President Vortex. Principal Clarke has provided us with a video statement, which we'll now air."

Courtney leaned back and watched the monitor. Principal Clarke appeared behind her desk, hands clasped in thought. "Every student in this school is a growing child with the potential to change. I hope that the creator of this abhorrent petition, as well as those who signed it, take time to reflect on their beliefs and realize their mistakes. It is no one else's business who anyone else loves - it does not affect nor concern you. So allow me to be crystal clear - all are welcome at the Spring Fling and in Retroville Middle School's halls. This matter is closed."

Courtney nodded and said, "Strong words that we needed to hear. With that settled, it's time to report on today's shocking events. There is no better woman for that job than our esteemed Editor-in-Chief, Libby Folfax. I leave you all in her capable hands."

Courtney sighed in relief as the camera's blinking red light shut off. She rose from her chair, took a few steps away from the desk, and stayed just out of the spotlight. She watched a pair of cameras train their gazes on Libby, standing in front of a bookcase. Clad in a white dress shirt and zephyr pink blazer, Libby drew in the cameras' focus like a black hole.

"7:15 a.m. - twenty minutes before first bell. The doors open and we start to fill the halls - expecting nothing more than an easy-going Friday. No one knew that everything was about to change."

Libby took a few steps to her right and stopped in front of a bank of lockers that had not been easy to rip from a downstairs wall. "East wing, 7:17 a.m. All alone, seventh-grader John Morrison bends over to tie his shoes. With the hall empty and in the perfect position, the assailant strikes."

Libby walked a few more feet and froze in front of a cardboard mock-up of a supply closet. "Second floor storage closet, 8:01 a.m. Ms. Varela asks sixth-grader David Crowler to get her a pack of composition paper. As soon as the door closes, a monster hits their second target. As whispers of the attack spread, as it becomes clear this wasn't an isolated event, all of R.M.S. realizes that everything has changed."

Libby moved away from the sets, motioned at the computer lab, and waited for the camera to pan out. "And at 8:41 a.m., in a classroom just like this, the third victim was assaulted. If sixth-grader Alex Volkov hadn't been the first to class, if his teacher hadn't been in the bathroom, he might not be here right now."

Libby waited a beat before nodding. "That's right. Despite his recent attack, Alex has agreed to share what he went through."

Libby walked to the middle of the studio and took a seat across from Alex. The camera zoomed in on the boy's face, and Libby swore she could hear the whole school gasping at once. His spiked up auburn locks were tousled, his cheeks stained with tears, the whites of his eyes replaced by pools of red.

"Thank you for joining us," Libby extended her hand, but the boy simply cringed as she encroached past some invisible boundary. Libby yanked her palm back, swallowed away a pang of guilt, and said, "It's very brave for you to come here and talk about this."

Alex gulped and wrapped his blanket tighter over his shoulders. "Tha-thank yo-you," he stuttered. His shaking hands brought a steaming paper cup of tea to his lips. After a brief sip, he said, "I don't want to be here. But people have to know what they did."

"They," Libby repeated while turning to Camera One. "With the assailant's identity unknown, the media has used their modus operandi to craft a moniker. Alex, you're here to talk about…"

Libby spun to Camera Two and narrowed her eyes. "The Black Atom."

Alex whimpered as Libby faced him. "Tell us everything."

Alex took one more sip of tea, set the cup down, and closed his eyes. "I'm never even on time - I wasn't supposed to be there alone. But it's Friday, so my first period teacher wrapped things up a few minutes early. Everyone else hung around at their lockers or went to the bathroom. I had English next but hadn't finished the homework; I figured I'd hurry over there and do the last few problems in a flash."

Libby nodded and said, "When you got there, the room was empty."

"Right," Alex agreed. "But Ms. Creek had left the door unlocked. So I went in and was about to get to work, but it was a bit hot. I walked over to the window and reached over to crack it open. That's when I felt it."

Alex twitched and glanced over his shoulder; Libby's voice brought him back. "You're safe. The Black Atom can't hurt you anymore."

Alex's jaw trembled and his eyes glistened. "There was a rustling under my shirt, like a breeze. For a split second I thought the A.C. had come on. That changed when I felt their fingers.

"They were cold as ice, nails sharp as a blade. I tried to get away, but they were too fast. One hand shot like lightning to the back of my head and shoved me. I hit the glass hard…I tried to scream…but all that got me was a mouthful of dust and grime."

Libby had read the hall monitor report, but hearing this, watching Alex tell it, was something else. She gulped and asked, "Then what?"

Alex's eyes stared past her, glossy with memory. "Then it happened." His head shook and his voice dropped. "One hand pinned me, the other crept lower. They went below the belt…" Alex's voice broke as he screamed, "That place is mine, not theirs!

"The Black Atom grabbed my underwear, squeezed, and then they pulled! It wasn't smooth, it wasn't gentle, it was violent and hard and so, so fast! They yanked with everything they had and took everything from me! My underwear…it went inside me, Libby!"

All around the studio, students gasped and covered their mouths. Libby faced the camera and softly explained, "We know these details are hard to hear. But it's our duty to understand what happened today."

"You can't understand," Alex shook his head. "I can tell you, but you won't really know." Alex wiped his eyes and clenched moist hands into fists. "I've heard what people say. Oh, it was just a wedgie. What's the big deal? You're still breathing.

"Well I'll tell the whole school the big deal. The last part was the worst. Because eventually, right before the waistband crept over my head, I managed to turn around. The fabric was creeping up and I knew I couldn't stop it. But when I craned my neck, when I took back that little piece of myself, I thought I'd won. I thought I'd see a pair of scared eyes looking back at me. I thought I'd watch them realize that they wouldn't get away with it. I thought I'd see a future where I would get justice. But I couldn't even have that."

Alex leaned forward and spat, "All I saw was a chrome mask and my own reflection. I had to stare into my own gaze, a hall of spine-chilling mirrors, as the Black Atom gave one last pull." Alex motioned at his eyes and said, "I watched the vessels burst and bleed." Alex leaned back and swaddled himself with the blanket. "Then they slipped the waistband over my head, and it all went black."

The studio fell quiet until Libby could speak. "Thank you, Alex." She rose from the chair and strolled towards the news desk that Courtney had vacated. Libby took a seat, straightened a crease from her blazer, and spoke to her audience.

"Three vicious atomic wedgies in less than two hours. Thanks to the Black Atom's Striker mask and the victim's eyes being covered, we have no description to go on. And with the attacks taking place on an I.O.P. day, the pool of suspects is essentially infinite. We have word from Present Vortex that all available resources are deployed, but there is no guarantee a suspect will be apprehended before the next attack.

"With no promise that this will soon be over, I offer the R.M.S. Report's final moments to resident bad-ass Ike Burke. May his advice keep us all safe."

Libby turned to her left where Ike now sat. "Thanks, Libs," he said while boring his new aviators into the camera. "It's been a good month. We'd earned that peace through blood, sweat, and tears. But now it's gone. So if you won't listen to that poor soul over there," he nodded towards the catatonic Alex, "then hear me. Until they find the Black Atom, you have to do three things.

"One. Do not go anywhere where there isn't a crowd. If your teacher asks you to run down the hall and grab her some chalk? You tell them those carefree days died along with Alex's innocence.

"Two. Stay in pairs - the Black Atom can't strike if you've got someone watching your back. So pick a butt-buddy and protect their rear end as if it were your own."

Libby watched Courtney tap her wrist - their time was nearly up. Libby turned back to Ike and asked, "And your final piece of advice?"

Ike took a deep breath and did the unthinkable. He gripped his sunglasses by the black frame, lifted them off his head, and set them down on the desk.

The school fell silent as Ike waited a beat, then said, "If you find yourself in the Black Atom's clutches, remember this. We're students now, but we were all soldiers once. So if that monster finds you?"

Ike bared his teeth and snarled his last words.

"Fight like hell."