Chapter 11: Surviving Students And A Strange One

Damon was curious about what sort of class he had awakened that had caused no notable change in him, unlike what was usually described on the chat channels.

But first, he had to be present in this moment, as unlike before, he would have to actually deal with people. And from the little he knows, being aware of one’s surroundings plays a huge role in that.

Stepping into his massive living room, visible size about eighty by forty feet of space, fancy golden chandeliers hanging low from the marbled ceilings, a similar warm coat of painting, a mix of light cream with white finishing, floors luminous like fine glass— and even an indoor bar right next to the path leading into the kitchen.

There were unmistakable dark crimson smears all over the place. The same dashes of crimson ran along the sides of the wall, paths of the tempered floor-to-ceiling massive surround windows, on the torn and disfigured sofas, smearing the beautiful double chandeliers, and motes of it visible on the bar countertop, which had more than half its collection of wine in shattered ruins.

The once pristine living room from Damon’s memories now looked like a crime scene that had been hurriedly cleaned out. Still, even in this macabre disorder, its opulence shines through.

There were four sofas still in good condition in the living room; others had been shredded by what looked to be massive claws. Of the remaining four sofas, three were occupied by the surviving students.

Harvey and Mildred led Damon to the only one unoccupied, situated by the tempered glass windows of the living room. Damon sat down slowly, brows creasing almost imperceptibly in discomfort as he assessed his surroundings.

Spaced out in his living room were strangers who had unwittingly found themselves trapped inside his penthouse after partying through the weekend. There were three young ladies and two young men present.

The first guy he noticed was standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning his back against the wall with his legs crossed.

He had low-cut blonde hair, with bangs reaching his eyes; a silver ring on his lower lip, wearing a black-on-black outfit with studded silver chains and rings.

He looked almost as battered as the duo that had accompanied Brad earlier. His bearing was calm as he cast a passing side glance at Damon before removing his gaze and focusing back on the space in front of him while pulling a drag from his burning cigarette; his hand shaking a little as he brought it to his lips.

On the right-side sofa was a young lady with a reddened face, smeared makeup and swollen eyes. Her gaze wandered over to Damon’s appearance with empathy and a little touch of starstruck awe before settling back into her gloomy state.

She had curly brown hair and clear grey eyes; wearing a short, brown leather skirt and a green tank top.

Considering how much skin she was showing, Damon reasoned she must be incredibly lucky to not have a single visible bite mark on her, just some light cuts.

In front of the middle sofa was a young man crouched with his legs wrapped around his legs, visibly trembling and muttering unintelligibly. This person appears to be in an unstable state of shock and horror. 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

The second young lady was a strange one. She appeared younger than the other two, lying casually on the left side sofa to Damon’s right. A few feet away from the bar.

Unlike the others still reeling from what had transpired, she appeared as composed as Brad and his cohorts.

She had short blue hair that stopped around her middle neck and seafoam colored eyes that were locked on a portable gaming console in her grip.

Her outfit was stylish brown shorts, blue high-sole loafers, and an oversized hoodie.

She was relaxed, and almost nonchalant amidst the gloomy atmosphere; legs swinging as she tapped casually on the console

However, the most striking thing about this person was that, among all the surviving students present, only her seemed to have no visible signs of having undergone the carnage that had transpired earlier.

Her outfit as well as her look was almost spotless, bereft of the common worn looks Damon had noted from the others.

She might have had a quick bath; but Damon felt that was a weird thing to do given the circumstance. Absolutely no one was thinking about bathing. And if that were true–

It still does not explain her complete lack of visible injuries. Not even a scratch.

Because of how fast Damon’s mind works if actively applied. He was able to take a quick reading of the room in a couple of seconds—

Just in time as the final young lady of the three surviving female students, who’d previously been sitting perpendicular to the curly haired girl, hesitantly made her way towards him.

Her gait was measured and calm, but with a subtle limp on her right leg. Her gaze at Damon was with a touch of concern as well as a little bit of guilt.

She had on tight-fitting blue jeans, a black jacket worn over a white top, and simple black sneakers to match.

She was fit, fair-skinned with sky blue eyes and long blonde hair reaching all the way to her lower back.

Just like the others, she had a few scrapes and bruises and some damage to her outfit but nothing serious. The most concerning part was her limp, which, now that Damon thought about it, might be a condition she already had.

As she approached Damon, Mildred, who was on guard after the stunt Brad and his crew had just pulled, shot her a glare that caused her to pause her advance in fright, bringing her hands up as he explained herself.

"Hey, I am not with those assholes alright?—"

"I heard what happened there.... " she added nervously as she drew closer, her gaze locked on Damon.

"Sorry you had to go through that—Brad and the others have been acting like real jerks since earlier."

Seeing the young lady’s stance, Mildred’s expression relaxed, and Damon, who was being addressed, replied as best as he could, given the situation.

"It’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry for someone else’s wrongs."

The young girl’s anxious expression relaxed a bit as she limped closer to where Damon was seated, stretching out her right hand for a handshake.

"Hi... I am Hazel—"

"And...sorry for intruding into your home like this..."

"wish we had met in better circumstances."

Damon watched the lady’s outstretched hand for a few moments, before stretching his and accepting hers, following proper rules of social conduct he could recall since he wasn’t a really social person to begin with.

"Hi, I am Damon...."

"Damon Einstein."