The Unlucky Villain [ON HOLD]

Prologue

Ahh, Calvin sighed.

Was his life truly going to end like this? Without even giving him the chance to say goodbye?

The day had started off fine, just like any other Thursday. He had biked to university where two, four hour long, workgroups awaited him. Man, did he hate Thursdays.

As usual, the day had passed at an excruciatingly slow pace, filled with textbooks and social awkwardness. The only thing that saved Thursday afternoons was the walk to the bike parking, where he let loud music blare through his headphones.

Only, this Thursday had been different. Somehow, his already horrible luck had managed to reach a new high score. How? Well. He had gotten hit by a bus.

Calvin chuckled mentally at his horrible luck. It wasn't that getting hit by a bus was unexpected. He had seen it happen in countless tv shows and the statistics showed that from 63,000 bus accidents about 325 resulted in fatal injuries. He had just been unlucky enough to become one of those 325 cases.

What bothered him about the whole ordeal, was that the accident should not have been statistically possible. After all, he had been walking on the outer part of the sidewalk, furthest away from the street.

How could he have been hit by a bus?

However, sighing once more, he let it go. No use trying to change what is now in the past.

It seemed that the misfortune that had guided Calvin through everyday life would now also follow him to his death. What had he done to deserve this? He genuinely had no clue but, in all honesty, maybe it was for the better that he didn't know. Perhaps, he would have better luck in his next life.

He had never been a very religious person, but maybe the afterlife did exist. Who knew, sometimes miracles happened.

Thinking about how his life had ended, Calvin was left with more regrets than he thought he'd have. Despite trying his best in school, he had remained average. Rarely did he seem to make his parents and teachers proud, and while Cal had tried making friends, he had only attracted toxic personalities.

Even the person I had deemed my best friend ended up backstabbing me without any second thoughts.

It was at that point when he decided: if he were to get a second chance at life, he would just lay low and try to enjoy it. Even if his perfectionist brain needed some adjusting. What was the point of trying to be perfect when the result of all his efforts was a massive burnout and average grades?

It just wasn't worth it.

Turning away from those thoughts he mentally hummed, Welp, it is what it is. Pulling himself out of his pity party, Calvin tried to smile.

Oh wait. He couldn't. He was busy floating to the afterlife.

Hahaha, Welp x2.

Letting his mind relax, Calvin allowed himself to drift through the endless void of black emanating through my mind. In a sense, this was also nice.

For once he was not overthinking, nor was his anxiety getting the best of him, telling him to get up and study. His thoughts even helped him conclude that, maybe, he would stop needlessly injuring himself if he stopped trying so hard.

Calvin was tired. Allowing himself to sink deeper into the voice, he couldn't get himself to care about what would happen next.

I felt weightless and serene.

The feeling of suffocation had subsided, leaving him dizzy yet strangely tranquil.

However, just as he had gotten comfortable, the dull sensation of being pulled upward disrupted his rest. Was this the path to heaven? If so, Calvin had originally thought it would be a lot warmer.

Shivers rushed down his body, surprising him. He hadn't thought that feeling cold and muscle contractions would follow him into the afterlife.

What a scam.

Even if he died the shackles making him human remained intact.

Suddenly the odd sensation of breaking through a surface of water overwhelmed him, all the pain he had previously felt rushing back and making him feel hopeless.

Had he not died?

How had he gotten trapped under a literal body of water?

While Calvin wanted to lie, there was no denying that he had been drowning a few moments ago. It made no sense. Sure, if he had a punctured lung, he might have choked on his own blood, however the wetness clinging to his body and the consistency of the liquid he was coughing up was not blood.

Someone seemed to be giving him emergency care, but Calvin was far too exhausted to do anything other than try and breathe. Eventually, the coughing subsided, allowing him to focus on other things despite his fatigue desperately trying to pull him under.

Someone was petting his hair, seemingly trying to calm him down and lull him to sleep. It was working well, but before his consciousness fully faded, he heard an unknown name being shouted by a voice filled with anxiety and fear. But it seemed that the fear and anxiety weren't directed in concern for the owner of the name.

No, it seemed like... like those emotions were directed towards themselves?

"Young Master Kieran!"

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A/N: Hello! I am the author of this book. If you clicked on this notification hoping it was a new chapter, I am sorry to dissapoint you. I recently caught covid and have been recovering rather slowly, hence I did not really had the energy to write a new chapter. in addition, the prologue has been bugging me for a while so I decided to edit it.

I will be posting a message concerning the upcoming chapter (#8) on my board. If you enjoy this story please leave some comments / votes! And for now, bye <3