The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Dario worked quietly at his desk, pencil scratching against paper. Chemistry equations filled the page—balancing formulas had always calmed him, the predictable logic of elements combining and separating. Around him, his classmates chatted in hushed tones while their teacher graded papers at the front.
Dario preferred these quiet moments. When he was in control, the world felt manageable, peaceful even. His friends would wave at him in the hallways, include him in lunch conversations, treat him like he belonged. But Dario knew it wouldn't last. It never did.
The classroom door burst open with a violence that made everyone freeze.
Two men entered, both wearing dark clothing and carrying weapons. The larger one—bearded, with wild eyes—swept his gun across the room while the smaller man moved with predatory precision toward the back where Dario sat.
"Nobody move!" the gunman shouted. Students screamed, diving under desks. The teacher raised her hands, backing against the whiteboard.
Before Dario could react, strong hands seized his throat, lifting him from his chair. The smaller man's grip was iron-tight, cutting off his air supply as he dangled, feet barely touching the ground.
"Where is he?" the man hissed, his breath hot against Dario's face. "Where's Cassius?"
Dario gasped, clawing at the hands around his neck. "I-I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Don't lie to me!" The grip tightened. "We know he's in there. We've been watching. Cassius owes some very dangerous people a debt, and today's collection day."
"Please," Dario wheezed, "I'm not Cassius. I'm Dario. I don't know who—"
The man's face twisted with rage. He released Dario's throat, letting him crumple to the floor gasping, then pulled out a small black device. The taser crackled with electricity.
"Then we'll make him come out."