Death Fury: Thank you.

Chapter 1-2

Oh shit.

David steadies himself against a doorjamb out of the auditorium and feels as if his stomach is stirring like a whisk stirring egg yolk. The taste of his tongue took on a kind of flavor he couldn't describe. His tongue was like an apple that had been rotting for the past two months and his sense of smell plagued his nose with a scent that resembled charred hamburger meat.

Oh man, did that ESU steak plague me or something? Man, those ESU bastards are going to have a major lawsuit on their hands. Man, the money I could make; I could be set for life. "ESU poisons students at job presentation and-"

He notices something that makes him narrow his eyes. Several students who consumed steak from ESU were walking around the hallway, full of energy and smiling like it was nothing.

Damn it; if I'm the only one who got sick when several other students ate the same food, then it must mean that whatever I'm suffering from did NOT come from the steak. So that means… I won't be able to win this case. Looks like I'm going to be suffering for nothing. No money at all. Damn it.

He made it through the hallway with the other kids filling the hallway and he made it to his next class. He was already in his fourth class of the day but literature should go by easily. He sits in the back of the classroom and keeps to himself.

Felicia was in this class but David decided not to bother with her.

I can't fucking stand this feeling.

His eyes widened when he felt like something burst inside of him.

What's going on, my stomach, it feels like…

"Mr. Dante," Mrs. Harris calls out, "how are you feeling, Mr. Dante?"

David looked up at his teacher.

So much for keeping a low profile.

"I don't feel so well, Mrs. Harris. I think I'm sick."

Going through this kind of pain just to save face is suicidal. I need to get help if I want to live another day. Better safe than sorry.

Mrs. Harris nods. She heads over to his side and puts a hand on the front of his head. "Oh my god, you're burning up. Here, I'll write you a pass to the nurse's office."

"Thank you," he licks his lips.

"Felicia, can you make sure David gets to the office?"

"Yeah," Felicia says without hesitating. She gets out of her seat and helps David to the nurse's office.

Mrs. Harris wrote a note with all caps to the nurse. Her handwriting was what people would describe as 'messy' with the works looking more like lines rather than words. It looks like the complaints from the nurse went over Mrs. Harris's head.

Felicia escorted David out of the classroom and through the hall toward the office. Felicia held David's hand over her shoulder and dragged him as carefully as possible forward.

"Holy crap," Felicia gasps, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. But if this is some trick to get me to notice you-"

David manages a half-grin. "Felicia, you're smart; what kind of girl is turned on by a sick boy?"

Had I known that this is what would've gotten Felicia to put my hands on her, I would NOT have gone through with it. Putting your own health at risk for a girl is NOT something to be copied.

Suddenly, David folds over with a fist connecting to his stomach. David falls to the ground and on his knees, clutching his stomach and wincing.

"With a weak punch like that, I know it can only be you, Allan," David hisses.

Allan, Robert, and Oliver from before stood over David, each one with a vicious grin on their face.

"I couldn't help but notice that you only punched me after I got sick." He promptly vomits a whitish substance on the ground.

"Shut your trap, bitch," Allan demanded. "I don't need you to be sick to kick your ass." He looks at Felicia. "You can fool everyone else here, rich girl, but I know the truth: you're a bitch. You're only pretending to give a shit about poor kids like me and David so that you'll look better in public."

"Wow," Felicia gasps, "how ever did you figure me out? So I guess, the next time you need someone to escort you to the nurse, it won't be me."

"I don't need a rich bitch like you escorting me to the nurse."

Felicia steps back slightly but she manages to wink at Allan.

"What's that wink for, bitch? Trying to fucking seduce me or some fucking shit?"

"No, I just couldn't help but find myself to be in love."

Allan flinches. "You… love me?" His face softens. "Really?"

"In love with the idea of seeing you dead in a ditch."

Allan's face hardened and he pulled out a knife. It was a switchblade but he couldn't quite get the blade open. When he tried to pry the switchblade open, he dropped it to the ground. When he got down to pick it up, he slipped in David's vomit.

"Looks like you'll fall in a ditch yourself." Felicia picks up David and helps him to the nurse's office. Robert and Oliver stayed behind to help their friend up but somehow, they ended up slipping in David's vomit and ended up falling on top of each other and hurting themselves.

How pathetic; if they somehow manage to slip in the same vomit in the same spot then I don't see how people are afraid of them. They've always been more bark than bite.

After they made it to the nurse's office, the nurse made a quick diagnosis of the ill boy before she made her conclusion.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Nurse Rose answered. "Probably a bug or something."

Felicia crossed her arms over her chest. "Should we be worried?"

"The best I can do is give him some painkillers but aside from that, I can't do much." Nurse Rose went to her desk. "Two cases already; I should isolate the kids." She looks at Felicia. "You can go back to class now. Oh, and when you see Mrs. Harris, tell her, for the love of Jesus, Mary, and what's-his-name, write something that I can read; Not all of us graduated high school."

Then how did you become a nurse?

Felicia looks at David. "I hope you get better soon."

Aww, it looks like I won her heart by doing absolutely nothing. At least her concern.

Nurse Rose returned to David. "I'm going to write you a note to get you home early."

"Thank you."

"I'm going to contact your parents to pick you up."

"It's okay," a new voice spoke. A girl sitting in a bed behind a sheet David noticed earlier appeared. It was an Asian girl, Korean-American, and she looked to be just as disheveled as David.

"Cindy," David sighed, "what are you doing here?" he spotted her sweaty forehead. "Never mind, my bad."

"Sick, too?" Cindy wipes her head. "If you want, I can give you a ride home. My parents are already on their way over."

"Thank you."

"No," Cindy shook her head firmly, "thank you."

David closes his eyes and lays back on the bed and sinks comfortably into the pillow.

About fifteen minutes later, Nurse Rose came to check on the two teenagers when the principal sent word to her that Cindy's parents arrived. Nurse Rose helped carry the two teenagers to Cindy's parents' car and loaded them in the backseat.

That spider, that fucking spider that bit me. That fucking spider did this to me.

The Dante Residence

Jim and Misa worked during school hours. Jim was a school teacher for kindergartners while Misa worked as a receptionist at the hospital. They came home at the same time and waited thirty minutes for David to get home from school in about an hour. It was lunchtime, after all.

Jim turned on the oven and grilled himself a grilled cheese sandwich.

"I'm cooking dinner tonight," Jim said to Misa who was dressed in her casual clothes. "How does pork chop sound?"

"Didn't we have pork chops the other night?" Misa asked. "You are what you eat and I don't want to be a pig."

Jim chuckled. "It's a good meal; who doesn't like pork? David eats pork."

"David will eat anything handed to him," she pointed out, "our son is like a tiger shark eating anything he can get his hands on."

"Maybe that's why I like cooking so much." He finished grilling a second grilled cheese sandwich before handing it over to his wife on a plate.

"I've been meaning to tell you that I have to work overtime."

"At the hospital?"

"Yep. They're short-handed on the night schedule so I volunteered."

"Will you be getting paid overtime? Because we need to pay a couple of bills ASAP."

"I will."

Jim nodded before looking down at the ground, contemplating something. He sat down at the kitchen table and rested his temple against his knuckle. "I talked to our landlord and he said that if we don't pay him ASAP, then he's going to kick us out without hesitation."

"Don't worry," Misa reassured, "if the hospital doesn't work out, I'll get a second job. I promise to -"

David arrived home. He opened the door, threw his backpack to the ground, and locked the door behind him. He limped forward, barely acknowledging his parents.

"Hey there, sport," Jim waved to his son. "You're home early; what happened?"

David's face was as pale as the moon, looking like he was going to throw up at the drop of a hat. He put his hand on the wall to steady himself.

"Are you okay, dear?" Misa asked, her face full of concern.

"I'm fine," David answered absentmindedly. "I just ate something bad at school."

That and I was bitten by a spider.

"Do you want some Ginger Ale?"

I could go for some soda right but my need to sleep surpasses my desire for soda.

"Later. Save me a cup or two... or the whole liter."

"I'll save you some pork chop for when you feel better."

Aww, Dad is going out of his way to make sure I have refrigerator-temperature food for when I wake up. That is so thoughtful of this neurotypical human.

"Okay," David nodded, "I'm just going to go upstairs and rest for a while, can you let me know when food will be done? I love Dad's cooking."

He's the only person I know who puts effort into making the food taste delicious.

David heads towards the stairs. When he nearly trips, Jim catches him. "Need any help getting upstairs?"

"Nah, I'm good." David slowly peels himself from his father's grip and climbs up the stairs, using the rails for support.

David climbed up the stairs and he shut the door quietly. Now that the bed was in sight, his drowsiness dialed up to eleven and he suddenly forgot which way was north and south. He began breathing shallowly as he slowly moved to the bed, stopping only when he felt himself heat up.

Damn spider bite.

To relieve himself, he took off his shirt and let it fall to the ground. His groin area felt tight and he removed his black jeans after kicking off his shoes and socks. Standing in nothing but his boxers, he limped over to the bed, his vision blurring like a nearsighted person. He felt like there was a weight pulling him forward as he walked toward his bed. It cost him all of his strength to just stand upright and not fall on the spot.

What do I feel like I'm dying? Then again, I've never died before so a feeling of dying could be subjective but why do I feel like my body is going to fall apart? Maybe it is falling apart? Am I going to turn into a puddle of goo in the middle of my room? Did that spider inject some kind of corrosive acid within me to turn me into its intended lunch or am I just going crazy?

Finding something to entertain himself and make him temporarily forget about the pain, he headed towards his bedroom window and looked out. His eyes brightened when he saw a window with the curtains open at the neighboring house.

Cindy Moon's parents offered to drive David home because their houses were next to each other and David could see into Cindy's bedroom through her window. It seems like he, Cindy had opted to remove all of her clothing as a way to relieve the pain and feelings of tightness constricting around them.

David was left in nothing but her bra and panties and waddled over to her bed where she went to sleep and rested.

David smiled deliriously and licked his lips.

Damn, while this spider bite is taking a toll on me, it sure made up for it by allowing me to speak at Cindy wearing nothing but a bra and matching panties. But I'm curious, why is Cindy sick? She shouldn't be because only I was bitten by that devious spider before I squashed it like the bug it was. Maybe she's got the flu. Not good. If I got the flu from her and it destroyed any plans I had with Eddie or Felicia, that would be disappointing.

David reaches his bed and falls headfirst into his pillow, which has never felt so soft before.

This pillow is so soft, I've never felt such softness before. Wow, for the first time in my life, sleeping is better than eating. Wow, this pillow is so soft I just want to lay here for the rest of my life. Who cares about the world? David Dante is just one human among seven billion, the world can go on without him. For now, I'm going to get my nice, soft, peaceful sleep for a couple of hours. When I wake up and eat my father's famous pork chop, I'll definitely feel bet-

David loses consciousness.

The flashes he had in his dreams were bright. He couldn't tell what he was seeing but it looked beautiful. There was a spider's web and he was caught in it. He was struggling to get free but the spider, the same one that bit him, moved towards him. It wasn't the same size as before, but its height increased by eight thousand percent. David was the 'spider' to the giant spider. Instead of feasting on his flesh like he assumed it would, it looked at him, as if saying...

'Thank you for the blood'.

About five hours later, around seven o'clock, Jim decided to check on his son. He walked upstairs and knocked on his bedroom door a few times but got no reply. He decided to walk in anyway only to find the door unlocked. That wasn't good. He grabbed a paperclip from his bedroom and picked the lock, a skill his father taught him.

When he entered the room, the one thing that made Jim stop was the fact how clean his room was heavily contrasted with his son's messy appearance. It was like the juxtaposition of something dirty against something so clean and tidy.

Jim headed over to his son and rested the back of his hand on his forehead. "How are you feeling?" He might as well be talking to a wall with how knocked out his son was, which only made his heart pump faster. "Are you okay?"

He leaned in and listened carefully to David's breathing. It was soft and steady, like a baby sleeping in a crib. "OK, okay, his breathing is okay." He backs away and rubs the back of his head. "Okay." He calls out to his wife who quickly comes into the room. "Misa, you work in the hospital so-"

"I work at the hospital but not exactly in it." Misa winces. "Well, maybe I work physically in it but I'm not a doctor."

"But you must've seen things."

"I have."

"What's wrong with our son? So far, his breathing is steady but for him to become sick so suddenly, looking like a walking corpse…"

Misa held her hand up. "It's okay, I'm checking on him right now." She left and returned later with a medical kit. She carefully pried open David's mouth and used a thermometer on him. She carefully placed the device under his tongue and waited.

"Look at the pillow," Jim says, "he was sweating up a tsunami in here. It's not…"

"No," Misa shook her head. "I think he's going to be okay." She removed the thermometer. "His temperature is a little over 98 degrees. His temperature or whatever he had is going down."

"What?" Jim furrows his brows. "Then what's wrong with him? He can't just get sick one afternoon and get better five hours later."

Misa chuckles. "You would be surprised with what I see in a hospital."

"Ooh, do tell."

"A person came walking in with a golf club in through his leg."

Jim looked at his wife. "What?"

"Nothing."

Misa rested a warm washcloth over David's head as a precaution in case his fever came back. After a while, she used a towel to dab his head dry before picking herself up. "When he wakes up, I'll check his temperature again and then I'll call a doctor."

Jim was about to say something before Misa interrupted her.

"A real doctor. Just because I wear a purple uniform doesn't mean I'm a doctor."

"A receptionist is such an underrated and unappreciated job. We have The Office to thank for that."

"Yeah." Misa gathers the medical kit before leaning down to press a kiss on David's forehead. Jim followed suit.

"He will get better," Jim declares. "I promise, Misa-Misa."

"How can you keep that promise?"

"I have to keep that promise. David is the only son we will ever get. Besides, you already said that he's getting better so we shouldn't assume the worse."

Misa knew that to some degree, Jim was right and that they shouldn't assume the worst with any sickness that David gets but at the same time, as their only child, their miracle child, the only child they will ever have, it was kinda hard not to assume the worst.

Session #13

One Month Ago

Barton Hamilton had everything set up, not a speck of dirt or muck on a single surface in his office. He grabbed a cup of coffee and carefully took a sip before turning to the patient before him. He took out a tape recorder and began recording the session.

"Hello, David," Barton Hamilton announces politely, "it's always nice to see you once more." He set a notepad on his knee and began rocking his other leg.

David rolls his eyes. "Not surprised; you get paid by the hour so the longer you keep me here, the more you get."

"Eh, the money is just a bonus. Honestly, the minds and souls that come into this place are what drives me to get out of bed." He looks David in the eyes. "So, how's school going?"

"It's going good. I try to ensure that everything that happens is as average as possible."

"Average, huh? Why average?"

"Well, the more average I am, the less likely people are to notice me. Honestly, it's a hassle pretending to give two shits about anything every day but it's better than having people crowding around me."

Hamilton leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure that there has always been some aspect in every one where they just want to be left alone but cannot due to certain circumstances. Can you think of an instant where things didn't go the way you want and how you reacted?"

David licked his lips. "Well, a couple of days ago, while I was eating lunch in the cafeteria…

"As any student would."

"... there are these three pieces of shit that come by and ruin my day by dunking my lunch over my head. Now, for the sake of not drawing attention, I decided not to tear these three pricks a new one but eyes still wandered on me. I've seen enough movies to know that I was supposed to play the terrifying boy. But still, I wouldn't say I liked the extra attention on me. If I could, I would wear a mask."

"Interesting. If you could wear a mask to hide who you are, what are some of the things you would do?"

David stroked his chin. "Well, if I wore a mask, a mask to hide my mask from my real face, then I would tear those three bullies apart. I would demolish them."

"Is that so? You would just walk up to these three bullies, in a ski mask, and destroy them?"

"No. I would only destroy them when they're attacking someone else. If I just walk up to these three people and start pounding on them and killing them, then people will be scared of me. I want people to see me as a hero so they'll be less likely to turn on me. If I attack these three bullies unprovoked then the rest of those humans will think I'm a predator trying to dominate the predator world. But… if I attack them when they are hurting an innocent person then they'll back me up and would be less likely to turn on me."

Hamilton laced his fingers together. "Interesting. This innocent kid you saved from the three bullies, do you care about him being harmed?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because you talk about only killing people who attack you in some way and you made no mention of going after kids who did nothing wrong to you," Hamilton smirks. "Is this your sense of justice?"

David tilts his head. "Justice?"

"All humans are born with an innate sense of justice. After all, justice is subjective. You can have a sense of justice and morals but not be guided by them; that's what I believe you are."

"I have morals and code but am not guided by it?"

"Precisely."

David licked his lips before looking at the ground. "I guess you have a point. Whenever I meet someone, I've always put them in four different kinds of categories. The 'Save-Save', the 'Innocent-Innocent', the 'Guilty-Guilty', and the 'Kill-Kill' categories.

"The innocent and guilty categories seem to be self-explanatory but what I'm curious about is the 'save and 'kill'.

"Humans are always going to have a sense of right and wrong, good and evil within them but that doesn't mean they all deserve to die. If someone is being a jackass to another person, or taking advantage of an old lady, or harming them, then they're guilty. But, killing innocent people just doesn't work for me. If you're going to kill someone, it should be someone you know or at the very least, someone who is vile."

"And who deems someone is worthy of death?"

"Society. The world can do without some rapists and criminals in the world. I find them targeting random innocent people, and especially children, to be distasteful. If I had a mask, I would kill these people."

"Ooh, this is getting even more interesting. What else do you have to say about the 'kill' category?"

"I've seen plenty of people that I would fit in this 'kill-kill' category. Namely, three bullies. They may be kids but they've pulled knives on kids and threatened them for money."

"Already have a shitlist, huh."

"Yes."

"Well, it's better to fantasize, David. Trust me, I've fantasized for so long about saving the world but when I look at what would realistically happen, I realize that the aftermath would be horrible. The consequences and everything I need to save even a fraction of the world would be too exhausting, time-consuming, and EVERYTHING."

"So… it's okay to fantasize?"

"It's BETTER to fantasize."

Yeah, fantasizing about killing someone is much better than actually doing the deed.