Why (A Death the Kid Fanfiction)

Chapter Nine

(A/N: Had to post this before going to bed. Enjoy!)

Kid's POV

It was like a scene from a movie. Soul took a swing and sliced the kid's face open as if it was a stick of butter. I winced as a thin line of deep red blood trickled towards the surface of the cut. It ran from the left side of his forehead all the way down to his chin - a clean slice, a painful-looking slice.

"Aaaaah, dammit!" He grunted, stumbling back into his entourage as he clutched the side of his face with careful yet agonized motions. Soul was looking down at the ground, his arm still shape-shifted into that deadly weapon, that bloody red-black scythe.

It was only in that moment that I realized I had to do something. The reaper's son could not afford to be any more useless. So, with caution and care in every step, I got up and edged my way over. I was careful to stay out of the limelight, to use the blending in abilities I had worked so long to build up. Just as I had come within ten feet of my white haired friend and the others, however, the meathead got back to his feet.

He opened his eyes and what shone through seemed to be a mix of sheer anger and a pure lust for revenge. I shivered at his stare, almost ready to take a few steps back, but it wasn't until I looked at Soul that I really felt a heart attack coming on.

His usually rather tan skin was heavily tinged with an angry red hue, his deep crimson eyes almost entirely shut with the intensity he was glaring with. His remaining human fist was balled up as tightly as possible, blue-ish purple veins bulging through the backside of his incredibly pale hand. As previously stated, his other arm was still locked up in its blade form, but this time it almost seemed to radiate a dark, pulsing aura that brought down the whole atmosphere of the situation.

In other words, I have never once in my life seen him so pissed off.

"I hope that helps the lesson to sink in," Soul's voice was both like nails on a chalkboard and as cool as ever in a single phrase. "That you don't ever dare insult me, my friends, or any decent human being on this planet with something as petty as that."

"C'mere you shit head!" The jock lunged towards Soul only to be met with a sidestep and a face full of hard cement.

"Must be pretty hard living on the bottom like that, huh pea brain?" Soul spat. "But I bet this is something you're used to...being so low."

The boy on the ground let out a strangled breath and hurried to his feet, all the while signaling to his partners and gesturing to...

And gesturing to me.

"Oh, uh, hi fellas," I chuckled nervously as they began towards me with balled fists and dead-set expressions. "Isn't there any chance of, oh I don't know, talking this out?"

Almost as if considering my offer, the two hesitated for a moment. It should have come as no surprise, however, what their response would be.

"No," one burst out bluntly as the other landed a sharp blow to my jaw. As a result of my incredibly skinny figure, I flung to the ground and hit with a sickening crack!

I swear to Father if I end up in the infirmary yet again...

I wheezed and coughed up a bit of blood, a sure sign that I still was in a fragile condition. I looked up at the two beefy boys standing over me and only one thought ran through my head: I am so screwed.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" Soul's voice growled from somewhere behind the two. As they turned around with stupidly surprise expressions overtaking their faces, I used the opportunity to get to my feet and escape to the edges of the park.