Amanda Eclairs sat alone in the farthest corner of the school cafeteria; her tray untouched. The chatter and laughter of the other students felt like knives stabbing into her solitude. She tried to shrink further into herself, her emerald hair hiding her crimson eyes that were already welling up with unshed tears.
The isolation wasn't new; it had been her life for as long as she could remember. But the cruelty—that was what broke her. Every day, it reached new levels, as if her tormentors were competing for the title of the most sadistic.
Today, it was a group of cheerleaders and jocks. Amanda had dared to speak up when they shoved a freshman against a locker. It earned her their undivided attention.
"You think you're better than us, freak?" sneered Heather, the queen of the cheer squad. Her perfect smile twisted into a sinister grin as she dumped Amanda's books onto the cafeteria floor. The others joined in, stomping on them, tearing pages, and laughing.
"Maybe we should teach her a lesson about sticking her nose where it doesn't belong," said Jason, the football team's star quarterback. He grabbed Amanda's tray and dumped its contents over her head. The cafeteria erupted in laughter.
Amanda stayed frozen, her fists clenched. Her emerald hair dripped with milk and mashed potatoes. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she knew how it would end.
She tried going to the teachers once, but they turned a blind eye. "Just kids being kids," they said. Her parents dismissed her too. "Stand up for yourself," her father had barked. "Stop being so sensitive," her mother added. No one cared. No one helped.
After finishing her lunch, Amanda headed to her next class, clutching her torn books. As she walked through the empty corridor, Jason and his gang emerged, blocking her path. Their faces twisted with cruel amusement.
"So, you think tattling to the principal would help?" Jason sneered, stepping closer. "Guess what? He's on our side."
Before Amanda could respond, Jason grabbed her arm and yanked it hard. "Let's see if you complain again," he said, twisting until a sickening crack echoed through the hallway. Amanda screamed, tears streaming down her face.
The others joined in. One of the girls pulled at her clothes, ripping the fabric until it was unwearable. Another shoved her hard against the wall, causing her to cough violently, blood dripping from her lips. They didn't stop. Kicks, punches, and laughter filled the air as Amanda crumpled to the ground.
When they were done, she lay there, barely conscious, her body trembling from pain and humiliation. Jason crouched down beside her, smirking. "Next time, stay in your place," he said before walking away with his gang, their laughter echoing behind them.
Her thoughts blurred into fragments: the echo of Jason's laugh, the warm blood pooling on her lips, the cold tile pressing against her back. Somewhere between the agony and humiliation, she felt a flicker of something foreign. It started as a seed of anger, buried deep beneath years of fear and helplessness. But in that moment, it began to grow, fed by her pain, nourished by her hatred. "They will pay," she whispered to herself, barely audible. "Every single one of them."
A week later, Amanda made her way to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Her arms were still in casts, a grim reminder of her last encounter with her bullies. She wasn't there to heal. She was there to learn how to destroy.
"Amanda initiated the conversation, her voice steady despite the chaos within. "You saved my life once," she said, her crimson eyes locking onto Emilia's piercing green gaze. "Now, I need you to teach me your ways."
Emilia, known in the criminal underworld as "The Emerald Flash," leaned against a metal table cluttered with weapons and blueprints. Her sharp green eyes locked onto Amanda's crimson ones. Emilia was a psychopathic genius, infamous for her deadly precision and cold-hearted schemes.
Amanda had saved Emilia during a freak accident years ago, pulling her from a burning car. Emilia had repaid her with a curt "thanks" and disappeared. Now, Amanda was calling in the favor.
"You want me to teach you my ways," Emilia said, her voice low and dangerous. "Do you even know what that means?"
Amanda didn't flinch. "I know exactly what it means. I need to learn how to make them suffer."
Emilia raised an eyebrow. "You're just a kid. What makes you think you can handle this?"
Amanda's voice was steady, cold. "Because I've already lost everything that mattered—and all that's left is making them pay."
Emilia studied her for a long moment before a sly smile curved her lips. "Fine. I'll teach you. But understand this: once you go down this path, there's no turning back."
Amanda's crimson eyes burned with determination. "I'm not turning back."
For the next year, Amanda trained under Emilia. She learned how to manipulate, how to fight, how to think like a predator. Emilia's methods were brutal, but Amanda endured every challenge, driven by her unquenchable hatred.
She returned with black hair and a different name, Amanda Flash, a beautiful girl, after learning how to present her beauty, a weapon no less dangerous than any cold weapon – with a moniker by her teacher, Killer Queen.