Obsessed With The Muderer

“Azxel… Azxel…”

The voice whispered in his ear.

“Get off him… don’t… kill him… don’t… kill him… kill him… kill him… kill him…”

Then his fist landed on the poor boy's face. Minutes later, his blood was already spilling out, the boy once loud screams were now replaced with low muffled groans.

“Kill him… kill him… kill… kill…”

Azxel could feel hands grabbing his arms. He twisted and hit them but more hands yanked at him.

“Azxel! Stop! Stop now!”

He swung again hitting the boy harder on his nose. The boy writhed on the floor clutching his nose, he was slowly loosing consciousness.

The students behind him dragged him back but he kicked, pushed and aimed his fist on air.

By the time Azxel stumbled into his classroom, his hands still trembling, his heart thudding in his ears, he barely recognized the surroundings. The usual chatter and the drone of the teacher’s voice felt distant and unreal like he was underwater.

He dropped into his seat, avoiding eye contact with anyone, though whispers immediately started circulating round the classroom. There was no doubt the students were scared of him.

Azxel could feel the weight of every gaze burning into his back. The clock on the wall crawled forward, slowly. Ten minutes passed in a blur and he barely registered the teacher calling on someone to answer a question.

“Azxel… the principal wants to see you.”

The words hit him like a fist. His stomach sank, a sudden, heavy lead pressing against his chest. He stood, moving stiffly toward the office. He knew his mum was going to be called again and he was going to get complained about, and that was what he hated the most.

The hallway felt unbearably long. Every student he passed seemed to watch him with fear.

When he finally reached the principal’s office, the door was slightly ajar. He could hear low murmurs inside. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, he pushed the door open.

Inside, the scene he expected met him immediately. His mother sat in one of the chairs with a pale face, her hands were clasped tight over her lap. Opposite her sat the boy parents whom he registered to have sent to the hospital. The principal stood near the desk, folding his arms around his chest, watching him silently.

“Azxel,” his mother said softly, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable. “Sit down.”

He obeyed, dropping into the chair across from her, eyes darting between the boy parents and his mother, unable to find words. Not like he was going to say something.

The principal finally spoke, calm but firm. “Azxel, we need to discuss what happened.”

Azxel’s hands clenched into fists, resting on his knees. His mind raced, the violent voices from earlier still echoing faintly.

His mother’s voice cut through, “I… I already know the basics. But Azxel… why? Why did it get this far?”

The boy’s mother, added with a trembling voice, “Our son… he’s in the hospital. We want to know why you attacked him like this.”

Azxel felt his throat tighten.

“You savage! You have no self respect! No home training even! Beating up peoples children and attacking them like an animal. What kind of a human being behaves like an ani —”

Azxel laughed. “Home training, huh? Maybe if you gave him some, he wouldn’t be crying on the floor. Or I can show you how it’s done next time.”

His mother whispered with a slight bow to the boy father, “I’m sorry.”

“You better check your kids before they cross me again,” he said. “Or I’ll do it. Don’t worry. I’m thorough.”

He turned and walked out.

His mother followed, murmuring apologies.

~~~~~

Azxel sat outside the principal’s office, his backpack half open, papers spilling out like a mess he didn’t care to fix. The hallway was quiet, with students watching him as they pass but as usual it was less of his business.

His mother stood beside him silently holding her purse tightly. She hadn’t said a word since the call came in that morning.

The office door opened. The principal gave a short sigh and nodded through.

“Azxel,” he said with an irritated voice, you could tell he had no desire to talk to him. “You’ve left us no choice.”

Expelled. Yes, he has been expelled. The word didn’t even sting anymore. Azxel had stopped feeling things properly a long time ago.

They drove home in silence. His mother kept glancing at him through the mirror, her eyes tired but still searching for something in him that wasn’t there anymore.

“I just don’t understand,” she whispered at one point. “You were doing better.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t tell her that sometimes the noise in his head got too loud, that he didn’t remember what exactly set him off, only flashes of laughter, a shove and his own fist connecting.

The ride was silent. Azxel stared at the floor with a smile on his face, his mother’s eyes occasionally flicking to him in the rearview mirror as he chuckles.

Across from him, she flipped through a few papers from her bag, her jaw tightened as she brought it out. “I even thought you were doing better,” she said, not looking at him. “The therapy, the medication… the principal said you hadn’t shown up for weeks. What were you thinking, Azxel?”

He didn’t answer. The bruises on his knuckles pulsed when he flexed his fingers.

“You got into another fight,” she said sharply. “You almost killed the boy Azxel. They said he —” She stopped herself, pressing her lips together tightly.

“He deserved it,” Azxel said quietly. That was the first word he had spoken since they left the principal's office.

“Azxel.” Her tone dropped tiredly. She didn't look angry anymore but she just felt defeated. “This can’t keep happening. You promised me you’d stop getting into trouble and you even said you were fine.”

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to admit he couldn’t always control it, that he couldn’t always remember what always set him off.

She finally spoke again, slower this time. “I don’t know what to do with you anymore. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself.”

Azxel didn’t look at her. He just stared straight ahead, letting the quietness settle between them, heavier than any words they could say.

She sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair. “Anyway…” She rubbed her temples. “I already made the call.”

He looked up slowly. “What call?”

She hesitated for a second, then exhaled. “I signed you up for a boarding school. The Hillcrest Academy I wanted talking about before but you didn't listen.”

He blinked, confused. “You what?”

“i said I signed you up for the Hillcrest Boarding Academy!” She repeated.

“I spoke to them this morning. They take students with... difficulties. It’s not like your old school, It’s more structured. They’ll help you get back on track.” Her voice softened, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s a good place, Azxel. I think you need this.”

He laughed quietly, but it came out hollow. “You’re sending me away again. Do you think I'm abnormal.”

She frowned. “That’s not what this is.”

“It always is. You always think I'm abnormal.”

His mother stood, gathering the papers back into a folder. “You’ll start in two days. I already paid the deposit.”

He stared at her, trying to read her expression, but she was already walking out of the kitchen.

From the hallway, her voice came quieter, almost breaking, “I just want my son back.”

The sound of her bedroom door closing echoed through the house.

Azxel sat there for a long time, staring at the folder she’d left on the table. The school name was printed neatly at the top.

It says, Hillcrest Academy for Behavioral Rehabilitation.

He reached out and brushed his fingers over it, then pulled his hand back like it burned and chuckled.