"Hey Septiceye, you gonna cry for us crybaby?" Billy taunted, shoving Anti to the white and pale blue checkered floor of the crowded lunch room. His head smacked into one of the light gray round tables behind him before he hit the ground, his head throbbing with pain and the world seeming to spin around him like a merry go round as he tried to focus on Billy.

His lips were curled upward in a sneer, his nameless cronies laughing behind him and pointing at Anti.

"You're a freak." Billy hissed in Anti's face, kneeling down in front of Anti and taking a fistful of his shirt so he could drag Anti's face so close to his that Anti could smell the overwhelmingly disgusting stench of whatever he ate for lunch on his breath, making Anti gag.

"Go to hell." Anti whispered weakly in an attempt to sound brave, when in reality he felt terrified as he imagined the ways that Billy would torture him later.

"Oh Septiceye, I'm already there with you." Billy chuckled before punching Anti hard enough in the side of his face to knock him out cold instantly.

Anti awoke with a gasp, quickly sitting up as he assessed where he was. He was at home lying safe in bed, his emerald green hair matted to his forehead, his back slick with sweat.

It was only a nightmare, Anti realized with a sense of relief.

He released a sigh as he laid back down, grabbing his cracked black phone from his black bedside table and checked the time.

It was only three in the morning, meaning that he had about four more hours until school started.

He's had nightmares of Billy bullying him in junior high, even though it's been years since then. Although Billy would still bother him, he wouldn't beat him up anymore much to his surprise. Instead, he took to just irritating and insulting him, which in Anti's opinion was somewhat worse.

Groaning in annoyance, Anti flung his neon green covers off and sat up again, swinging his feet over the side of his small uncomfortable twin size bed and sliding off to land his bare feet on the old crunchy black carpeted floor.

Almost everything in his room was black and neon green, including his walls since they were his favorite colors.

He traded his black t-shirt that he slept in out for a different, somewhat clean black t-shirt that looked identical to the one he took off. He didn't bother changing out of his black skinny jeans since he didn't have any other pairs in his room since they were waiting to be washed downstairs.

He managed to navigate through the mess of dirty clothes and food trash to get to the kitchen to grab a microwave burrito and coffee for breakfast.

"Ow!" Anti seethed in pain through gritted teeth as he stepped into the kitchen. A seemingly endless amount of empty beer bottles littered the dark brown stained white tiled floor, shards of a bottle now embedded into his bare feet. It wasn't the first time its happened, but it still stung like hell every time.

Anti grumbled curse words under his breath as he managed to tear the shards out of his feet, tossing the blood covered brown glass pieces into the overflowing trash can that smelled like rotting food.

He managed to limp into the bathroom to bandage his feet, leaving a trail of blood behind on the wooden floor of the hallway. Anti started rummaging through the closet by the door, unable to find the bandages. He huffed in annoyance as he stepped in front of the mirror, pausing for a moment.

His emerald green hair was disheveled due to him just waking up, dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and his black t-shirt was wrinkled and dirty. One of Anti's eyes was normal, the iris a vibrant sapphire blue, however the other eye was completely neon green with a blue iris, hence the nickname Septiceye. He had heterochromia, meaning that both of his eyes were different colors. Because of it, he was the victim of bullying all through junior high and most of high school.

His ma had died as soon as he was born, and his dad hated him for it, spending most of his time in the pub in the neighborhood instead of at home.

Not that Anti minded, he could take care of himself just fine. At age five, he already knew how to cook with the oven and read directions, although as time passed, he grew lazier and often opted for microwaved foot instead of home cooked meals.

He was a senior, and today was the last day of school thankfully. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to put up with the assholes there.

He combed his hands through his hair to make it look somewhat decent before grabbing a bloodstained washcloth and turning on the sink. It squealed in protest before cold water spurted out, slowly soaking the cloth. Anti used the wet cloth and washed his wounds clean before rummaging inside the mirror to grab a roll of bandages, wrapping his feet up.

He then walked somewhat normally back to the kitchen and swung the freezer open, the cold air caressing his bare arms and face as he reached inside and sifted through the seemingly endless amount of chilled beer before finding one last burrito, tossing the empty box in the direction of the trash can. He would have to take care of it before the entire kitchen became a pig sty, as well as buy more burritos sometime after school.

He didn't have a job, but he did have access to his dad's "secret" stash of money under his mattress.

Once he placed the burrito in the microwave and let it cook, he darted back into his room and managed to find his green converse under his bed, quickly tie them, and jog back into the kitchen just as the microwave beeped.

"Hot hot hot!" Anti exclaimed as he juggled the scalding hot burrito from hand to hand before swiping trash off of the table and dropping it on the most clean spot.

He blew on the burrito before unwrapping it and sticking it in his mouth, swiping his car keys off of the table before walking through the door and slamming it shut behind him. He locked it with a click before walking to the driveway to get into his car.

He owned a simple black bug that his dad used to own before he started frequenting the local pub Green Clover. All Anti had to do was find the keys to claim it as his own.

The weather outside was cold, cloudy, and rainy, which was usual for Ireland. There was a light fog hat hung in the air, which barely obscured his vision as he drove.

He stopped by Starbucks to pick up an extremely sugary coffee before driving to school, walking inside just in time for his first hour. Even though he hated school, he still went anyway, even though he technically didn't have to since his dad didn't care and he was old enough to drop out.

The only reason why he continued coming back to the hell hole he called high school was because he needed a high school diploma to become a doctor, or his second choice was a psychologist. He wanted to be able to help people that were hurt or had issues like him.

"John Schneeplestien?" Anti winced when his math teacher Mr. Adams called out his name. Even to this day, students still snickered at his ridiculous name.

His dad didn't care what he named his son, so he chose John since it was the first name that came to mind. He planned to legally change his name as soon as possible. He considered changing it to something bad ass sounding like Hawk.

"Here." Anti muttered sourly under his breath, sinking down farther into his seat in the back row. He always sat in the back row in the far right corner so he was away from most people and closer towards the door.

He couldn't wait for the graduation ceremony happening after school. The sooner he was away from this place, the better.

He suddenly felt something wet hit the back of his head and drip down the back of his neck, followed by the sound of Billy's annoyingly high pitched laugh.

He casually wiped the spitball off of him and wiped it off on the underside of his desk, trying to focus on what his teacher was saying so he would have something to think about besides Billy's stupidity.

"Hey, Septiceye!" Billy whispered sharply, firing another spitball at him. This time he was able to dodge it by ducking, the projectile hitting the kid in front of him. The kid flinched, but otherwise didn't react.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid Septiceye?" Billy taunted.

"Funny, that's what I was thinking about you too." Anti retorted, glancing over at Billy.

He had on his infamous bright yellow-orange t-shirt, neon green basketball shorts, and red tennis shoes. He had his hands resting behind his head, his hands not visible behind his short chocolate brown hair. His complexion was only slightly tanner than Anti's snow white skin. He had moved to Ireland years ago, but he still kept his American accent.

"What did you say to me?" Billy's chocolate brown eyes narrowed in anger and mild confusion.

"Exactly." Anti smirked in mild amusement, looking away from him and tuning back into what his teacher was talking about. He assumed it was probably about how he was going to miss his seniors that were graduating or something sentimental like that.

"You looking for a fight?" Billy glared at Anti.

Not really, Anti thought, looking at Billy again in barely concealed irritation.

"I'd like to see you try." Anti snorted. He had never been in an actual fight that was planned beforehand, but he figured it probably wouldn't be that bad.

"Meet me after school in the alley, unless you're too chicken." Billy smirked.

"Sounds like a plan." Anti shrugged casually as if they were discussing what restaurant they wanted to go to for dinner, not where they were going to beat each other up.

"Come alone." Billy added.

Anti only nodded in acknowledgment.

The bell finally rang after what felt like hours of Anti having to put up with Billy firing spitballs at him, dismissing him from his first class.

He coasted through the rest of his classes, not really paying attention to anything his teachers said. His mind was thinking of how the fight would go, and what he would do. Surprisingly, he felt no fear when he thought of fighting Billy.

He sat down at a table by himself and ate a quick lunch of what was supposed to be pizza, but mainly tasted and had the consistency of old rubber.

He was given a yearbook during lunch by some kid he didn't know from the yearbook club, but he promptly threw it away once he walked out of the lunch room to go to the rest of his classes. He didn't pay for one, meaning that his dad probably did. Most likely, he was trying to pretend to be a part of Anti's life, even though he wasn't.

It wasn't the first time that he tried to basically bribe Anti into ignoring the fact that he was never there and constantly drunk. Last time, which was last year at prom when he went out of curiosity, he had bought Anti his phone. He only took because it was free.

He shuffled absent mindlessly to and from the rest of his classes until finally the bell rang once again, signaling the end of school and the beginning of his fight with Billy.

He met him in the alley by the school, fingers curled into fists at his side as he braced himself for whatever Billy had planned.

What he wasn't prepared for was when Billy charged towards him with a black pocket knife he retrieved out of his pocket.

Anti hastily stepped to the side, his heart racing with adrenaline and blood pumping in his ears when he felt the knife barely breeze past his arm.

"C'mon Septiceye, is that all you got?" Billy taunted cockily with a wide grin.

"Dude, you're mad!" Anti yelled, attempting to defend himself by throwing a punch to Billy's nose.

"We're all mad here!" Billy laughed crazily, stopping Anti's hand a few inches away from his face before tackling him to the concrete, Anti's head banging against the ground.

Billy straddled over Anti, keeping him pinned to the ground as he made a long clean horizontal gash across Anti's neck, causing blood to gush out. Anti screamed in pain, his eyes welling up with tears that blurred his vision as he struggled to fight back.

He eventually managed to grab Billy's hand wielding the knife and stop it from cutting him again.

"You're only delaying the inevitable." Billy snarled.

"I have been all my life. I think I can delay it a little bit longer." Anti spoke through gritted teeth before he managed to shove the knife away from him.

Right into Billy's heart.

Billy's brown eyes widened as he let out a soft gasp of pain and shock, blood quickly soaking through his shirt as Anti managed to push Billy off of him, breathing heavily as he took in what he just did.

He felt scared, not because he killed Billy, but because he didn't care at all that he did. He just felt...numb.

He put a hand to his throat, feeling his warm sticky blood instantly coat it.

"Well done John Schneeplestien."

Anti whirled around to see a guy around his age dressed in a black suit watching him, slowly clapping his hands together. His eyes were pitch black with vibrant blue irises similar to Anti's that gleaned with mischief. He had his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Don't call me that." Anti growled threateningly.

"I must say, medicine has really improved nowadays." The guy held up a small white pill in between his fingers.

"What is that?" Anti frowned.

"I call it the Crazy For You pill. Anyone who takes it has their insanity levels increased ten fold. You made it for me." The guy smiled proudly.

"What?" Anti blurted in shock. Anti was positive he would remember making anything for the man.

"When you were going through that phase of wanting to be a pharmacist in your last year of secondary school, you thought it would be a great idea to make your own medicine to help with insanity in your own bedroom with chemicals you stole from the chemistry lab. When you found out it didn't work by testing it on a rat that went and hung itself, you stuffed the rest of the pills in your bedside table. Not the best place to hide something like that." Infelix leaned against the wall of the alley.

"What do you want?" Anti's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." The man spoke in a terrible impersonation of Gandalf as he walked closer, causing Anti to cautiously step back.

"Oh come on, I don't bite...that hard." The man grinned, sending chills down Anti's spine. It wasn't because of the cold gloomy weather.

"Who are you?" Anti demanded, poising himself to reach for the pocket knife still embedded in Billy's chest just in case.

"I'm your new colleague, Infelix." The guy stated as he waltzed closer to Anti.

In a flash, Anti tore the knife free from Billy's chest and pointed it at Infelix's throat, his hand steady as he carefully watched Infelix in case he decided to make a move. Blood dripped from the blade onto Infelix's black business shoes.

"Easy there tiger, I have a proposition for you." Infelix raised his hands up so Anti could see them as a sign of peace.

"What could you have to offer." Anti lowered the knife, but not his guard as he decided to listen to what he would have to say.

"I won't tell anyone about...that." Infelix gestured casually at Billy's lifeless corpse, blood still pooling around him.

"I'll also clean it up for you, get you your high school degree so you don't have to stay for the graduation, and get you those degrees so you could be whatever you want. Hell, you could be a psychologist, doctor, and pharmacist." Infelix added.

"Y-You would? How?" Anti stuttered in surprise, unable to believe what he was being offered. He could skip right past college and work in his dream jobs.

"What would you want in return?" Anti asked warily. He knew better than to expect that he would get anything from him for free.

"Nothing much, just that you join my little band of misfits called the Shadows. I'll go further into detail of what you'll be doing when you accept." Infelix explained.

"Do we have a deal?" Infelix handed him a contract and black ink pen out of his pocket.

Anti hesitated for a brief moment as he scanned the fine print, the pen in his hand hovering over the dotted line before he gave in, wondering if he would later come to regret his decision.

"Welcome to the Shadows... Anti Septiceye." Infelix beamed as he handed Anti a new ID and a passport. He wasn't sure how Infelix had put them together, but he didn't care.

He was free from being made fun of ever again.

"First stop, Sweden." Infelix giggled insanely.

Anti didn't know what he was getting himself into, but he knew that he was in for one hell of a ride.