Eye of a Boy: Blood Wars

Robert Cousins was an ordinary, adolescent pupil at St. Joseph's High School until he encountered a malevolent Hell-hound on a mission to slaughter two innocent men. Or so he thought. With him and his friend's gaining powers by the day, will he be able to scrape a victory at the eleventh hour?


2. 25 hours earlier


Robert Cousins squirmed melodramatically as Mr. Droner emptied a leather bag of rotting eyeballs onto the half-corroded lab table. Each of them was unique in some distinct form if you applied you eyes to the job (Which is ironic, when you think about it!). Yet, it made Robert uneasy to feel the heavy glare of dozens of eyes upon him, each of them once belonging to a breathing specimen.

        The juvenile teenager wore the amber St. Joseph's uniform, which was frayed at the edges. Sleek, black hair dangled before his grey, delving eyes. To match the biting winter season, his face was stricken and ghostly. Yet, despite his gloomy features, he frequently wore a wry grin upon his face - showing that he was not all doom and gloom.

"From our past research," questioned Mr. Droner, investing his trust in his intelligent pupils. "Can anyone inform me of the science behind the eye - one of our most vital organs?"

      Sub-consciously, Robert whisked his hand into the air to a chorus of 'teacher's pet' and 'geek'. Despite the taunting being an aspect of his daily routine, Robert still felt a twinge of hatred every time an insult was thrown casually at him. It was only with the assistance of his faithful ally, Benjamin Cook, who resided next to Robert in the lab, that Robert pulled through the day. Without his miniature friend's ongoing caustic remarks and appalling sense of humour, Robert did not know how he would manage.

"Silence, all!" demanded Mr. Droner, his deep voice rising just enough to be heard by the resident bullies. "Mr. Cook, how about you pitch your ideas to us?"

      This was enough to remind Robert that despite his friend's positive points, he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer when it came down to any of the numerous sciences. He had barley scrapped a pass in his SATS chemistry. Robert wasn't even sure he could comprehend the meaning of revision.

"The eye is…" stammered Ben hesitantly as if he was treading on active land mines. "Erm… help me out here Robert...is a thing in your head that you see out of?"

      The majority of the class clapped mockingly at his appalling performance that an infant school child could have improved upon. Despite Robert's relative immunity to insults directed at him, he was not prone to mental attacks upon the few allies that he had.

"Just shut up," snapped Robert at their tormentor's behind them.

"Oooh," gasped Jonathon Emerald - or the Emerald - in pseudo horror. He was the self-proclaimed dictator of the school's criminal underworld. Despite the year he was in, he was an astonishing four years older than the other pupils due to constantly being held back a year. "Someone's got hormone addled!"

      Simultaneously, Robert, Ben and the Emerald rose to their feet. The repulsing scent of alcoholic substances practically oozed out of the Emerald's pores. His sullen eyes darted around the room, at sporadic intervals, attempting to contain every aspect of the lab. With his hands, he fidgeted relentlessly with a two-pound coin. 

"Are you spoiling for a fight?" challenged the Emerald. "'Cause you know I'll thrash ya…"

      With all of the adrenaline pumping into his body, Robert was almost about to succumb to the chants of his keen classmates and ignore the slim traces of Mr. Droner's advising voice lingering in the background. Yet, just before he committed the deed, he began to weigh up his chances in a fistfight. He had puny arms, twig-like legs and no reasonably large muscles. Therefore, he wouldn't stand a chance.

"I'm not wasting my time on you," it seemed to Robert a good enough argument to back away from the imminent fight.

      Yet, it was not enough of an explanation for Mr. Droner, who had already began to storm towards the three students involved. At this threat, every other pupil frantically attempted to distance themselves from the crime scene and whistling conspicuously.

"Cousins, Cook, Emerald," registered Mr. Droner, a bewildered frown upon his frequently placid features. "Outside, now! If I hear the slightest peep from any of you, I'll make you wish that you'd remained an Embryo!"

      With that, Robert, Ben and the Emerald clambered off their creaking stools and departed the lab, their shoulder hunched. Behind them, they could hear Mr. Droner berating the remaining members of the class about St. Joseph's code and conduct. Once again, those immortal words were hammered into Robert's head.


'St. Joseph's High School exists to provide multicultural children with the opportunity to acquire academic and practical knowledge plus immaculate behaviour via the National Curriculum.'


      Now he understood the importance of those words. In one fatal move, he had tarnished his immaculate record. Also, moving against the Emerald was a risky move. He practically ruled the school. Robert wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Droner received a bribe later in the day if he agreed to forget the incident.

"Look what you've done now!" the Emerald had already begun to make accusations - only a few moments after the door had swung shut behind them. "I swear that you're dead!"

"Point one," Ben swaggered up to the bully until he was a hairbreadth away. "It's your stinking attitude that got us in this predicament in the first place. Second, you deserve every ounce of punishment bestowed upon you. Finally, we are not dead because, the last time I checked, we have rapid pulses, an adequate body temperature and we're not lying six feet under or in a morgue!"

      For a few seconds, the Emerald began to attempt to understand what the insults Ben had pelted him with meant. Then, he realised that his pea shaped brain could not be bothered to find anything intriguing about a… mo-rg-ue.

"You'll pay for that," threatened the Emerald using the few words that he knew.

            Robert, who had remained silent throughout the bickering, decided to speak up.

"Maybe, if you weren't doing drugs, you might listen to us - am I right, Emerald?"

      Due to his sketchy way of processing thoughts, the Emerald was thrown off track by Robert's ability to deduce his habits. Although many people probably knew about his fondness of all things brain damaging, no one had ever confronted him about the issue. Despite his primal intellect, he knew that if the authorities caught whiff of his exploits, he would face time in Juvenile Detention.

      Without pondering any more about his fate, the Emerald lunged at Robert, brandishing his fists. The revelation came as no surprise to the duo; after all, the Emerald was infamous for his immoral code of 'act now, think later'. Immediately, Robert parried the blow before stumbling to the side. Yet, Robert's response came at a cost. Caught off balance, another blow sent him tumbling to the tiled floor.

      Like Robert, Ben's muscular power was restricted to that of a weedy toddler. Resistance seemed futile. As the Emerald advanced, all of his placid composure was vanquished - instead replaced by pure fear. How impractical was Robert to even attempt to take out the Kingpin of school crime.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?" bellowed Mr. Droner, whom resided in the doorway, staring at the horrific scene.

      Robert staggered to his feet groggily as Mr. Droner stood entranced by the madness unfurling before him. As far as the relatively serene teacher could see, he was witnessing his star pupil rise from a beating whilst a scathed bully seemingly attempted to abuse a disruptive child.

      Boy, were they in trouble!


"So, let's get this straight?" Eve Bird attempted to understand the events of that memorable science lesson. "Robert Cousins - international geek of the year - got an after school detention for fighting? We have to throw a party to commemorate the occasion!"

      St. Joseph's derelict playground was equipped with only a few mandatory objects to vaguely satisfy the students' needs. A luminescent, plastic goal, which had been purchased from the Pound Shop, had been gradually obliterated until all that was left was two measly poles and the scattered remnants of the net. A 'green area' was at the epicentre; the only things there were three fragile daisies and contorted weeds. The field mainly consisted of upturned Astroturf and scattered belongings.

      Resting upon the synthetic grass was Robert and Ben plus Anne and Eve Bird. Eve was in the year above the rest of them so therefore believed she had the right to tease them about their mistakes. Both of sisters boasted auburn, silken hair that flowed down their perfectly modelled heads. Their annually renewed clothes declared they were adequately well off. Despite all their similarities, Eve's eyes were sea blue whilst Anne's were muddy russet.

"It's not funny," Ben grimaced, his detention slip crumbled in his clenched fists. "Honestly, I want to thrash that guy."

"Go ahead," Robert waved his hand discreetly at their opponent. "Let's see Little Miss Weedy take on a heavyweight and his two dozen cronies. I'll be sure to send you a get well card."

      At first, Robert and Ben braced themselves for a fight. Then they realised that it was the stress turning them against each other. Simultaneously, they nodded their heads, empathic for each other.

"Well," beamed the eternally optimistic Anne. "We can't sit around here feeling sorry for ourselves. There must be something we could do."

      Yet no one had any worthwhile suggestions. The only thing they wanted to do was make the Emerald pay but that had disastrous repercussions. The last thing they needed was a platoon of cocaine-fuelled thugs attempting to snap their backs.

"You could of course just apologise," advised Anne sweetly.

"Wait one sec," retorted Ben angrily. "Is that a flying pig in the sky?"

"That's it," Eve drove her fist in to Ben's gut. "You go and apologise or I'll…"

      There was no need to complete that threat. Already, Ben had begun to scarper away with all of his belongings before beckoning Robert to follow him.

"Come on Robert," the words were forced through Ben's tightened lips. "Mr. Droner is the most spectacular teacher and I doubt he'll ever forgive us if we don't give him a apologies for our ill actions. "

"Yeah," Robert cackled as he got to his feet. "Your sympathy has nothing to do with the fact you want your privates to remain intact and safe from the Bird sisters!"



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