Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain

The heat hit him first. A suffocating wave of sulfur and copper that coated the back of his throat.

Julian gasped. His lungs burned as if he had inhaled liquid fire. He braced himself for the crushing weight of concrete, expecting the aftermath of the gas explosion that had just ripped through his apartment.

But there was no concrete.

His vision blurred, then snapped into sharp focus. Damp, dark stone walls surrounded him. Rusted iron instruments hung from iron hooks. The air was thick and wet.

A heavy, wet friction dragged against his right palm.

Julian looked down. His fingers were wrapped around a thick leather whip. Dark gold blood dripped from the metal barbs woven into the hide. The blood hit the stone floor with a wet smack.

A ragged, wet breath echoed in the small space.

Julian jerked his head up. His stomach dropped into his shoes.

Three meters away, a boy hung from a massive obsidian cross. Thick silver chains bit into his wrists and ankles. His silver hair was matted with dark sweat. Deep, raw gashes crisscrossed his pale chest, exposing the white gleam of bone beneath torn muscle. Dark gold blood trailed down his ribs.

The boy forced his head up.

His eyes were a piercing, unnatural gold. They were dead. Hollow. Filled with a violent, suffocating hatred that made Julian's chest tighten.

Julian stopped breathing. He knew those eyes. He had spent three years describing those exact eyes on his laptop.

Kamari Monroe. The tragic, overpowered protagonist of his own web novel. The last heir of the Seraf-Kin.

Julian looked down at his own body. He wore a heavy, violet robe embroidered with dark silver runes. The fabric was stiff with dried blood.

His blood ran cold. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. He wasn't just in his book. He was Benedict Guerrero. The sadistic, twisted academy headmaster. The villain.

A reel of images flashed behind Julian's eyes. Benedict's ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning Benedict alive. Kamari ripping Benedict's soul from his chest and shoving it into a furnace for forty-nine days.

A phantom pain ripped through Julian's sternum. His knees buckled. He swayed, barely catching his balance.

A shadow moved to his left.

A young man in a pristine gold-embroidered uniform stepped into the flickering torchlight. He held a heavy iron basin. A glowing green liquid sloshed inside it, hissing as droplets hit the rim.

Gideon Fletcher. The student council president. Benedict's most loyal attack dog.

"Headmaster," Gideon said, his voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet eagerness. "Your arm must be tired. Why don't you let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid? Then you can resume."

At the words 'bone-rot acid', the muscles in Kamari's ruined chest spasmed. But his golden eyes didn't blink. They stayed locked on Julian, daring him to do it.

Julian's throat closed.

Gideon took his silence as permission. He smiled, a cruel twisting of his lips, and took a step toward the cross. He raised the basin.

If that acid hit Kamari, the hatred would become permanent. The torture would be unforgivable. Julian would be skinned alive.

Pure, animalistic survival instinct overrode the paralysis in Julian's legs.

He lunged forward.

His hand shot out and grabbed the back of Gideon's collar. He planted his boots on the slippery stone and yanked backward with every ounce of strength he had.

Gideon choked out a gasp. He flew backward, his feet slipping out from under him. He slammed onto the hard stone floor.

The iron basin clattered against the ground. The green acid spilled across the stones. It hissed violently, sending up thick plumes of white, acrid smoke.

Julian's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He dug his fingernails into his palms to stop his hands from violently shaking.

"Who gave you permission to touch him?!" Julian roared.

The sound bounced off the stone walls, deafening and harsh.

Gideon scrambled backward on the floor, his eyes wide with shock.

On the cross, Kamari's jaw went slack. The dead look in his golden eyes shattered, replaced by a flash of pure, unfiltered confusion.

White smoke filled the dungeon, burning Julian's eyes.

Gideon let out a sharp cry. He clutched his right hand. A single drop of the green acid had splashed onto his knuckles, eating through the skin and turning the flesh a sickly black.

He ignored the pain and flipped onto his knees, crawling toward Julian's boots.

"Headmaster! Forgive me!" Gideon's voice cracked in terror. "I was only trying to share your burden!"

Julian stared down at the boy. This was the idiot who constantly pushed Kamari past the breaking point in the novel. This was the idiot who would get them both killed.

A dry, scraping sound came from the cross.

Kamari was laughing. It wasn't a real laugh. It was a broken, wet sound that scraped against the back of his throat.

"What new psychological game is this?" Kamari rasped. His golden eyes locked onto Julian, burning with fresh venom. "You disgust me, Benedict."

Julian's heart skipped a beat. The protagonist just used his first name. That was practically a death sentence.

He couldn't apologize. If he showed weakness, if he broke character now, the magical world would sense the shift. Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.

He had to play the monster to survive.

Julian looked down at Gideon. He tapped into the foreign memories sitting in the back of his brain, trying to recall the exact feeling described in his own manuscript. He mimicked the mental focus required. Instantly, a cold, stagnant force crashed against his chest, violently expanding in his veins and nearly suffocating him. Panic flared as the unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed his senses. He jerked his right hand up in a desperate bid to release the pressure. An unstable wave of dark purple energy shot out wildly from his fingertips. The magic spiraled out of control, accidentally forming a crushing weight.

A wave of heavy gravity magic slammed down onto Gideon's back.

A loud crack echoed in the room. Gideon screamed. His chest hit the stone floor so hard the breath was knocked out of his lungs. He lay pinned, unable to move a single muscle.

Kamari's breath hitched. His jaw ticked. He stared at Gideon's crushed form, unable to process what he was seeing. Benedict never punished his own dogs.

Julian forced his face to remain completely blank. His stomach churned violently at the sound of the breaking bone.

He turned his attention to the whip still clutched in his right hand. He walked over to the iron brazier burning in the corner. He tossed the leather whip directly into the flames.

The fire flared a sickly green. The leather curled and turned to ash in seconds.

Kamari watched the whip burn. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow jerks.

Julian turned his back to the fire. He walked slowly toward the obsidian cross. He stopped exactly one step out of Kamari's reach. He clasped his hands tightly behind his back so Kamari wouldn't see them trembling.

Julian pushed magic into his vocal cords, amplifying his voice so it would bleed through the heavy oak doors to the guards outside.

"From this day forward," Julian commanded, his voice vibrating in the small room. He looked at Gideon, then brought his eyes back to Kamari. "No one steps foot in this dungeon without my direct order. And no one touches a single hair on his head."

Gideon whimpered against the floor, his eyes bulging in disbelief.

Kamari clenched his teeth. Blood loss was making his head loll, but he fought to keep his eyes open. He stared at Julian, searching for the lie.

"If you're going to kill me... just do it," Kamari whispered. "Stop playing these sick games."

His chin dropped to his chest. His body went entirely limp against the silver chains. He was out cold.

Julian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He turned toward the heavy oak doors. "Get in here!" he barked.

Two academy guards pushed the doors open. They took one look at Gideon pinned to the floor and visibly swallowed hard.

"Get him down," Julian ordered, pointing at Kamari.

The guards rushed to the cross. They fumbled with the heavy iron keys. One guard grabbed Kamari by the bicep and yanked him forward to loosen the chain.

Kamari let out a low, pained grunt in his sleep. His brow furrowed deeply.

Julian's chest tightened. "Watch your hands, idiot!" he snapped. "If you break my toy, I'll take your arm as compensation!"

The guard flinched as if he had been struck. He immediately softened his grip, handling the unconscious boy like fragile glass. They lowered Kamari onto a canvas stretcher.

Julian followed them out of the dungeon and into the dimly lit underground corridor.

Footsteps echoed ahead. Three men in crisp black uniforms marched toward them. They wore silver badges on their chests-two crossed swords. The Disciplinary Committee.

The man in the front stopped, blocking the hallway. Vance. He looked at the bloody boy on the stretcher and smirked.

"Headmaster," Vance said, his tone lacking any real respect. "By academy protocol, this defective student damaged the warding barriers. He belongs in the Committee's holding cells now."

Julian remembered the book. If Kamari went to the Committee, Vance would torture him until his magic circuits permanently scarred. And Kamari would blame Julian for handing him over.

Julian stopped walking. He let the coldness of Benedict's persona wash over his face.

"Are you trying to tell me how to run my academy, Vance?" Julian asked softly.

Vance frowned. "It is Director Malachi's order. The protocol must be followed."

Julian stepped forward. He placed his body directly between Vance and the stretcher.

"Protocol?" Julian sneered. "I am the protocol."

He reached into his spatial ring. He pulled out a heavy obsidian seal-the Headmaster's absolute authority. He shoved it inches from Vance's face.

"Headmaster's override," Julian said, his voice flat and dangerous. "Kamari Monroe is my case. I am taking personal control."

Vance's face turned a mottled red. He stared at the seal, his jaw tight. "You will have to explain this to the Board of Trustees."

"Get out of my sight," Julian said.

Vance glared at him, then spun on his heel and marched away with his men.

Julian felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He turned back to the stretcher.

He needed the guards to spread the word that he was acting strange. He needed witnesses to his 'change of heart'.

Julian let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. He reached out and gently brushed the sweat-soaked silver hair away from Kamari's forehead. He let his face soften into an expression of deep, painful guilt.

"Why do you make this so hard on yourself?" Julian murmured softly.

The two guards exchanged terrified glances. The Headmaster was showing pity. It was unnatural.

Suddenly, Julian felt a violent flinch under his fingertips.

He looked down.

Kamari's eyes were open by a fraction. Through the veil of his silver lashes, those golden eyes were locked onto Julian's face. He had seen the guilt. He had heard the words.

Julian's stomach flipped, but he quickly pulled his hand back and straightened his posture.