#AHarmlessLittleFuck

[Wade Moor]

"Go your way,
I'll take the long way 'round,
I'll find my own way down,
As I should.

And hold your gaze
There's coke in the Midas touch
A joke in the way that we rust,
And breathe again."

- Oats In The Water (Ben Howard)

Part I: And Only

The archaic bell rang, sending the students of Garner High School into a controlled frenzy. Gathering the things off their desk, shoving them into backpacks, listening to one final word from their teacher before heading home to enjoy their weekend. They left, rushing out the door...

But one student remained, not so eager to leave the safety of the nurturing classroom. A mousy brown haired kid in a shirt that was about twice his size - not due to his lack of size as the boy was fairly along around the middle - but more so due to where it came from.

As he sat in the classroom, meanderingly picking up his books to leave, he thought about where he had acquired the shirt - his most prized possession. Last week at the PNC Arena in Raleigh - after saving all of his money for a nosebleed ticket - the boy had met his hero. A man who, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't be anyones hero...but the things he said, the way he carried himself, and the way he dispatched those with callous disposition...they all resonated with the boy because he was completely incapable of doing anything resembling what Wade Moor could do.

After the show was over, the boy had waited around the arena for any signs of his hero...and when he walked outside of the side door, that gleaming World Championship slung over his shoulder, the boy's heart fluttered, and he contemplated making a run for it the very second he saw him.

'He's just going to make fun of you', the boy thought to himself.

But the boy, after seconds of furious self deliberation, found his footing and walked towards the man known as The Leviathan. He was alone - 'thank Godnilla!' - and didn't seem to notice the boy squeaking up behind him. He followed Wade across the parking lot, like a rat to the pied piper, searching desperately for his voice.

"Hey...Hey Wade!" the boy finally called.

Wade Moor stopped dead in his tracks, dropping his possessions to the ground, most likely expecting an attack. He whipped around, and he didn't even see the boy at first. A smirk crossed Wade's brilliant face before his eye twitched, probably thinking he was hearing things.

"Over here", the boy called again.

Wade finally spotted him under cover of the shadows, and he beckoned for him to reveal himself without speaking. The boy could feel it, he could feel the power that Wade possessed. He finally knew how others could fall under his "spell" so easily. The boy stepped out of the shadows, his legs now working of anothers accord. He walked towards Wade and almost knealt down before him, but Wade stopped him.

"What do you want?" Wade spoke in a calm voice.

"I-I-I-I-I", the boy stammered, trying to find the words eluding him like a cruel game of hide and seek.

"Spit it out BOI!" Wade bellowed, "Did you come to tell me that I'm a bad guy? Which one of your heroes did I mentally cripple? Tell me."

The boy almost fell to his knees, crushed under the might of Godnilla's words. His sword and pen were mighty. This was an infallible creature, and the boy prayed and wished to the night that they could switch spots, even for just one day. He looked up to Wade, his pupils unreflective and as black as the sky.

"Jeremy?" a voice cut in, renting his greatest memory in two, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Jeremy looked up, snapping out of his daydream, and spotted his English teacher Mr. Robbins staring down at him. Mr. Robbins was middle aged, as evidenced by the wrinkles in his face and the gray on top of his head. His eyes carried a hint of sadness...pity even as he chewed over words in his mouth.

"You-you're right, Mr. Robbins", Jeremy replied, his voice a nervous tinder, "Thank you..."

"Of course", Mr. Robbins replied as he put his firm hand on Jeremy's shoulder, "And if you ever need to talk...I'm always here."

The words cracked down on Jeremy's head like a rotten egg, the yolk dripped down his back and sent shivers up his spine. Even Mr. Robbins, Jeremy's most beloved teacher, knew that he was pathetic.

"If you ever need to talk..."

The words replayed in Jeremy's head, scarring him, like he was watching torture porn starring himself. The victim? Jeremy's eptitude. His desire to continue such a wretched life.

"Thanks again, Mr. Robbins", Jeremy replied.

Mr. Robbins smiled, but his face scrunched up as if it were fighting it off. He was just trying to be nice, but he didn't truly understand what was wrong with Jeremy. He would say it though. "Oh, I understand", the words blathered from Mr. Robbins. They always "understand", but they didn't care enough to get to the bottom of it.

Jeremy knew, right then and there, that he was alone in this world. Nobody cared about him...except for one. Godnilla. His true father in spirit. The thought comforted Jeremy. He smiled at Mr. Robbins, a truly rehearsed smile, but he bought it and Jeremy went on his way. He left the classroom and walked down the empty halls, a set of double doors in front of him. No light shone through the wire frame glass doors at the end. His mind began to drift back to that night in the parking lot.

Wade's black eyes burning a hole in the top of Jeremy's head. Did he look up and make eye contact? Or did he keep his gaze on the ground? Wade answered the question with a commanding voice.

"Look at me BOI!" Wade shouted, his patience wearing thin.

Jeremy's eyes shot up...and Wade must have seen something reflecting back at him because his expression instantly changed. He came down to eye level with Jeremy, a smile on his face and a glimmer of blue swimming in the back of his darkened eyes.
"What is it?" Wade asked with a childlike note in his voice.

"You're my hero, Wade", Jeremy replied.

"Why?" Wade asked.

"Because I know you", Jeremy replied.

"I'm nobodies hero, kid", Wade said, his voice stoic once again.

"Call me Jeremy", he replied, finding his confidence in the presence of Godnilla.

Wade smirked, tipped his hat, and crossed his arms underneath his chest. Jeremy copied him exactly, and little did Wade know, but he was already teaching Jeremy, leading him down a very specific path.

"How could I be your hero Jeremy?" Wade asked.

"You can be a hero", Jeremy replied immediately, "To people that are just like you."

Wade's eye twitched and it drifted a little to the left and his eyebrows fell, as if he were recalling a very painful memory. A distant car horn pulled him back into reality and he made eye contact with Jeremy again.

"Trust me", Wade said, "You don't want to be like me."

"Why?" Jeremy asked.

"Because I'm a killer, Jeremy."

Jeremy closed in on his locker, the dark hallway whispering to him as he did. A light flickered at the end, and for a moment, he saw a figure standing there...a man with a half skull face, draped in a long black wool coat...but the lights flickered again and he was gone. Jeremy rubbed his eyes, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. He was about to insert his combination when he was smashed head first into the locker, tasted warm blood filling his mouth, and fell to the floor. Before he could move, someone was pulling him by the scruff of his shirt down the hall.

Jeremy couldn't move, and every time he took a breath, the blood seeped into his throat and choked him. As he gasped for air, whoever had a hold of him lifted him off the ground and tossed him through an open door. He closed his eyes as he hit the ground and rolled into something hard, knocking the wind out of him. Jeremy struggled for air, gasping with the full might of his lungs. He pushed himself off the ground, but a swift kick to his ribs did him in and he fell face first into the ground.

Jeremy started blacking out, his mind racing back and forth through the random thoughts flooding his head...and it landed back on that night in the parking lot with Wade.

"Why did you kill people, Wade?" Jeremy asked with a curious pique and a slant of his head.

"Because they wanted to hurt me", Wade replied.

"Who did you kill?" Jeremy asked, that same note of interest in his voice.

"People I cared about..." Wade said, his voice beginning to drift away, "Very much."

"How come?" Jeremy asked with fervor, popping them off like twenty questions.

"Because..." Wade said, "Sometimes...you don't have a choice."

"Did you ever kill anyone you didn't care about?" Jeremy asked

Jeremy was finally able to look up from his beat down and saw three athletic types staring down at him. The obvious ringleader was Martin Shaw, white flat bill cap turned around backwards and a demented smile on his otherwise flawless face. The other two stood by, watching Martin, unable to stop their esteemed leader.

"Wh-why are you...", Jeremy started, but one of them quickly jumped in with a feigned crying noise and Martin laughed.

"Did we say you could talk faggot?!" Martin asked as he planted his Nike directly into Jeremy's ribs again, sending his lungs into another gasping frenzy. The two others laughed as Martin backed away from Jeremy.

"Were you going to ask why we're doing this to you", Martin asked, fake concern wavering in his voice.

Jeremy simply nodded.

"Because of your faggot face. Because of your faggot shirt. Because of your faggot name. I could go on, but if I had to give a simple answer?"

He kicked Jeremy in the ribs again, and he felt one split and tremendous pain rocket through his body.

"Because we can faggot. You're weak. You're nothing. You're a fucking freak Jeremy. I hate you. I hate you, stupid fucking faggot. Everyone in school fucking hates you. Fucking creep piece of shit."

Jeremy could only stare at Martin. He had never done anything to hurt anyone. He just kept his head down, kept quiet. Trying to get through school without making a fuss about it...but it was in this moment that Jeremy realized there was nothing.

And everything.

Eternity.

Something inside of Jeremy snapped as he recalled Wade's final parting words in the parking lot.

"What if somebody was hurting me?" Jeremy asked, which caused Wade to chortle under his breath.

"Don't hesitate", Wade replied, "You have to hurt them first."

Jeremy leaped from the floor and wrapped his hands around Martin's throat. Martin's eyes jutted from his skull as Jeremy locked his fingers around his throat, pushing Martin directly to the floor. The other two stood by in shock for a moment as Martin's eyes began to fill red with his blood, but they quickly ripped Jeremy away and tossed him backwards. Just as they were about to descend on him, the door flew open and the late out custodian walked in.

"What the hell is going on in here?" the thirty year old women called from the doorway.

Jeremy immediately leaped to his feet and shoved passed her, leaving Martin and his goons to deal with the aftermath.