The Classroom Incident

  THOMP!

  A blunt thud hit Cave square on the back of his head. His body stiffened as the cool sensation of water trickled down his neck, the plastic bottle rolling onto the wooden floor beside him.

  “Who threw that?” The teacher’s voice cut through the classroom, sharp and unamused. The room fell into a hushed silence.

  Cave instinctively turned, his gaze locking directly onto the culprit—Peter. The same smug-faced older kid who had tripped him during the morning parade, sending him crashing to his knees, scraping his left hand in the process. A brief flashback of that humiliating moment flickered through his mind—the sound of muffled snickers, the heat of embarrassment burning on his face, the way Peter barely even acknowledged what he did.

  Now, here he was again, pushing his luck.

  “Peter, STOP IT, MAN!” Cave hissed, his voice low and full of restrained fury. His fingers clenched into a fist beneath his desk, his knuckles whitening.

  Peter only smirked.

  Cave shook his head and turned forward, choosing to dismiss the situation rather than escalate it. He could feel the teacher’s expectant stare on him.

  “It’s Ice, Ma’am,” Cave answered.

  The teacher blinked. “Ice?”

  “What do you mean ‘Ice,’ Mr. Sears?”

  A small smile crept onto Cave’s face, and without hesitation, he answered:

  “The result we get on Earth from the Sun spending a longer time on the Eastern Hemisphere… is Ice, Ma’am.”

  A pause filled the room. The teacher’s eyes narrowed for a moment, thinking she had caught Cave in a distraction, but then she realized—he had actually answered the question.

  “Alright, Mr. Sears,” she finally said. “We get Ice?… Of course.”

  She turned to the board, adjusting her glasses as she continued the lesson.

  “We get the winter season, which brings forth mist and less heat. The moisture in the air cools, creating a denser atmosphere, leading to the formation of icicles. These icicles, when heavy enough, fall to the Earth, forming snow. That snow spreads across the land, cooling the temperatures of our streams and lakes, eventually freezing much of the environment into solid ice. A colder climate means harsher survival conditions—foraging becomes difficult, and the balance of life shifts as creatures adapt to the bitter frost.”

  The students scribbled down notes as the teacher continued, but Cave barely heard the rest of the explanation. He sat back in his chair, feeling both satisfied and relieved—he had dodged a potential punishment while earning an extra mark on the morning quiz.

  When the bell rang for recess, he shot one last glance at Peter before heading out, knowing full well—this wasn’t over.

  **Recess Gone Wrong**

  TRRRRRRIIIING!

  The loud chime of the recess bell sent students scrambling from their desks, their groans mixing with excited chatter as they rushed toward the doors. Chairs scraped against the wooden floor, backpacks swung over shoulders, and the corridor filled with movement.

  Cave picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, ignoring the muttered whispers and side glances thrown his way. He didn’t care—he just wanted air. A moment away from all the noise, all the stares, and especially Peter.

  Behind him, Peter lingered, stooping to pick up his squeeze bottle—the very same one he had hurled at Cave’s head moments earlier. But as he lifted it, his smirk faltered.

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  The bottle was frozen solid.

  Every drop, every leftover trickle of water—turned to ice.

  His hands tightened around the frosted plastic as he watched Cave’s retreating figure disappear into the hallway. His stomach twisted in disbelief, then anger.

  “This boy is a witch, Kevin! Let’s get his ass.” Peter whispered harshly, his voice filled with urgency.

  Kevin, his usual partner-in-crime, immediately responded. He darted forward, his footsteps heavy as he charged toward Cave, his hand snatching at the strap of his bag, yanking it off his shoulder.

  Then—

  A familiar voice cut through the moment like a knife.

  “BOYS! Rugby is postponed today, I HAVE A MEETING.”

  It was Principal Mathews, striding down the hallway in his usual stern manner, a suitcase in hand, his presence commanding obedience.

  Kevin froze. His fingers loosened on Cave’s bag, and he stepped back, trying to play it off.

  “Yes, Mr. Mathews!” Both boys responded in unison.

  Principal Mathews didn’t even pause—he just kept walking, disappearing down the hall without a second glance.

  Cave let out a silent breath of relief. That was close.

  Biting his tongue, he crouched down to pick up his bag, stuffing his scattered belongings back inside—pencils, rulers, his eraser sticks, and the few loose pages of his math exercises.

  Then—

  “STOP, WIZARD!”

  Cave flinched.

  Peter had stepped out of the classroom, his face twisted with pure rage, his frozen bottle still in hand.

  Without another word, he hurled it again.

  The plastic missile spun through the air—just barely missing Cave’s head—before bouncing against the corridor wall with a hollow clunk!

  Peter’s eyes blazed.

  “OHH! IT’S ON NOW!” he growled, his voice dripping with vengeance.

  Then he turned sharply to Kevin, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

  “KEVIN! GRAB HIM!”

  **Locked Away**

  Kevin’s fist slammed into Cave’s stomach.

  The air rushed out of him in a sharp, painful wheeze, his body folding forward from the impact. Before he could even recover, Kevin’s large hands gripped his neck, locking him in a vice-like hold.

  Peter closed in, his knuckles colliding with Cave’s ribs in another crushing punch.

  Cave didn’t cry out.

  Instead, a low, guttural growl escaped his lips—a sound of pain but also defiance. His stomach throbbed, his breath shallow, but he wasn’t going to let them see him break.

  Kevin’s grip tightened.

  Peter smirked. “What’s the matter, wizard? No magic spells to save you?”

  He reeled back, preparing to slam Cave into the floor—

  But Cave moved first.

  With a swift, unexpected shift, he twisted his body, using the momentum to knock Peter backward.

  BOOOOMMM!

  Peter crashed against the lockers, the metal doors swinging open with a loud, echoing clang.

  Cave’s bag was kicked aside in the scuffle.

  Kevin stumbled, momentarily losing his grip—just enough for Cave to lash out.

  CRACK!

  A solid jab to Kevin’s jaw sent him staggering back.

  Cave turned sharply, his breath ragged, his body still aching. His fingers curled into fists as he locked eyes with Peter.

  “This is not the day, bro,” he growled, crouching low before springing forward, throwing a powerful punch.

  Peter ducked, just barely dodging the blow—then retaliated.

  WHAM!

  A hard shove sent Cave crashing onto the floor.

  Pain flared in his left hand—the same hand that had been hurt earlier during the parade.

  He clenched his teeth, biting back the pain.

  “STOP IT, PETER!”

  A voice rang out from the hallway.

  A girl’s voice.

  Cave barely managed to tilt his head up, his blurred vision catching a glimpse of Mary Joseph, standing a few feet away, her expression furious.

  She knew where this was going. And she didn’t like it.

  Peter turned his head slowly, his lips curling into a sneer.

  “This doesn’t concern you, Mary Joseph,” he spat.

  His tone was warning, dripping with malice.

  Then his eyes darkened, and his smirk widened into something uglier.

  “Stay in your place… unless you want me to remind you what Steven did to you last week.”

  Mary flinched.

  Cave’s blood boiled at the sight.

  But before he could move, Peter hauled him off the ground—

  THWACK!

  Another vicious punch to the stomach.

  For the third time, Cave doubled over, gasping for air.

  Peter grinned, his chest heaving from exertion.

  Then he turned to Kevin.

  “Open That Locker.”

  Kevin hesitated for half a second, then nodded.

  Cave’s eyes widened.

  “Let’s teach this wizard what happens when the body freezes... not from winter, but from lack of oxygen.”

  Peter’s voice was cold. Flat.

  Kevin yanked open a large, two-framed locker, the kind used for storing sports gear.

  The boys grabbed Cave, ignoring his thrashing attempts to break free.

  They shoved him inside.

  The metal door slammed shut.

  CLICK.

  The lock snapped into place.

  From inside the cramped, suffocating darkness, Cave could hear them laughing.

  Their footsteps faded as they walked away—

  But before Peter disappeared completely, he turned back to Mary.

  He lifted his hand.

  And with a slow, deliberate motion—

  He made a slashing gesture across his throat.

  A silent warning.

  Mary stood frozen as the boys vanished into the hallway.

  Cave was trapped...