The hall leading to the school’s exit door is a dangerous passage. It is a breeding ground for the academe’s barbaric tribes, The Vikings.
When taken altogether The Vikings make a powerful kingdom, but within their grounds they are separated in circles – the basketball team, the cheering squad, the alchemists, the wolves men, the warriors, the musicians, the assholes, the bitches, the smarts, the dorks. And from this caste of scoundrels one stands to be its weakest.
Hector is the school’s designated loser. Everyday he tastes the notoriety of this lone passage to the school’s gates. As soon as the horn blows, the savage people of the kingdom spring from it’s walls harassing him.
It starts with Billy and his gang of basketball beasts who pound him onto the lockers for the mere fun of seeing him beg and weep. And then to the witches of Hyacinth who hypnotize him to do their homeworks, lest he be clawed and cursed. And onto the wolves of dorks, who maul him with the same anguish they take from their masters.
Hector had always thought of it as some dream from an era of old. He always smiled to it at the end, even when his teeth were bloodied. He saw it as an unfolding story where he is the weakened hero bound for redemption. But he could never come up with a climax.
So, today, when Hector reached the school’s doors… and he looked back… and he saw the same savage men from his barbarian tale, he thought of another story – one that involved his gun.
more of my weird humor here.