Hey, everyone. This is a sequel to the Fanfiction story "The Victims" by Dean Fiora. You don't have to read that story first to know what's going on, but I recommend doing so. Shout out to Dean for letting me use the man in the gray suit and his unusual app.

Chapter One

"I'm sorry, Nicole. It will never happen again." Roxie's voice was sickly sweet. Her eyes were wide and her face void of a smile to show just how serious she was.

"Sure, you are." Nicole snorted. She was having none of it as she collected the spaghetti that was currently staining her jeans.

Roxie's head hung low. "I said I was sorry."

A crowd had now gathered around Nicole's vacant table in the cafeteria. Whether or not Roxie's trip was accidental, or an intentional orchestration, was secondary compared to Nicole's withholding of forgiveness.

If Roxie was a stranger, Nicole could easily forgive her; sometimes spilled spaghetti happened. But Roxie wasn't a stranger. Roxie was a bully Nicole had known for years. And a smart one at that. Roxie's quips at Nicole's hair, weight, or unflattering clothes were always timed perfectly and able to make the bystanders laugh. Roxie knew when to shove or stick out her foot when Nicole was off balance; hard falls with minimal effort.

And if there were any witnesses, Roxie was quick to apologize. This seemed to placate any of the adults in charge. They were overworked, underpaid, and just didn't care to deal with a bully that avoided bloodshed.

"But I don't believe you." Nicole stood up. "See, it will happen again. And again. Like it has for years."

"I've been dumping spaghetti on you for years?"

Everyone laughed. Roxie was able to say it so innocently, with her nose scrunched up and head tilted to the side like she was completely oblivious to what Nicole meant.

"No. But, who knows? Maybe next time it'll be penne. And there will be a next time, because, Roxie. You. Are. A. Bully."

Roxie's lip quivered and she began to cry actual tears. Her friends immediately surged around her, acting like human body armor against Nicole's truthful barbs. Everyone seemed to be glaring at her, but Nicole stood her ground and stared back at the weeping Roxie.

Nicole figured her entourage would take her to the bathroom soon, so she made her way there first. Unlike Roxie, Nicole actually needed the sink to clean off her jeans so they wouldn't stain. Justice always seemed to evade people like Roxie. The clever people who knew how to play the system to their advantage. Like just now. Roxie had made a mistake (spilling spaghetti over Nicole) but had apologized immediately. Social convention dictated that Nicole was to accept said apology and then life was to carry on.

But Nicole had dared to be angry; dared to stay angry about what happened. She had called out Roxie's behavior. Everyone felt bad for Roxie because tears were easier to sympathize with instead of stained jeans. But later, in private, Roxie could reflect back on what happened and laugh at how she got away with it.

At the sink, Nicole visualized the encounter and felt anger. Not only for her stained jeans, which just so happened to be her favorite pair. But mostly, Nicole was angry because there was no way for her to fight back. What was she supposed to do? Hit Roxie? Call her names? Nicole knew how that would end. Roxie's years of abuse would be overlooked, and Nicole alone would be sent to the principal's office to face disciplinary action. The other option was to go to a teacher and ask for help. But the only thing they could do would be to schedule a talk with the parents. And the parents were probably bullies themselves. They'd probably bully the teacher; threaten they'd withdraw their precious daughter and then the school would lose money and their precious reputation would drop or something like that.

But if Nicole had the power, had actual power, she'd make Roxie cry for real. She'd make Roxie bleed. Roxie's hair would be yanked from her head. She'd break every bone one by one and pull out every single tooth. Choke her until she gasped for air.

Nicole would make Roxie beg for death.

And then she'd stop until Roxie fully healed and do it all over again. That's what people like Roxie deserved.

The bell echoed in the empty bathroom, signaling it was time to get to class. The left leg of her jeans would probably stay wet for the rest of the school day. On her way out, Nicole noticed there was still spilled spaghetti on the floor.

Not 'sorry' enough to clean up her mess.

That was the true sign of "being sorry", wasn't it? Acting like it; not just breathing out useless words. Nicole got more napkins to wipe up the noodles and sauce. As she knelt on the floor, a set of polished shoes came into her view. Nicole looked up and saw a man staring down at her. Thing was, Nicole couldn't place what subject he taught. And he was wearing an expensive looking gray suit. Too expensive for a teacher who worked here to be wearing.

"Hello," the man said. He was looking at her thoughtfully. "I may be able to be of assistance."

"You got a mop?" Nicole asked, even though she could clearly see he didn't.

"I meant with Roxie. May I have your phone?"

"Hey, this is the cafeteria. Students are allowed phones in here. Check the rulebook." Nicole was still trying to place what this guy taught. Biology? Algebra? Latin? It was probably Latin the way he dressed.

"Please."

Somehow Nicole found herself handing her phone to the man. He tapped the screen a few times and then handed it back. Looking at the screen, Nicole saw a new app had been added. The icon read HELP! V2.

"The next time you find yourself being picked on, just point your phone at them and open the app."

Nicole clicked on the icon. Nothing happened. She hit it again a few more times but it just stayed there. When Nicole looked up to ask the guy "What gives?" he had already vanished. She would have thought she imagined the stranger, but the floor was now spotless, and her jeans were dry and stain free. The new app was still on her screen; an immovable, useless block that took up screen space.

Not knowing what else to do, Nicole hurried off to class.