Chapter 4

Wilson had become the ultimate freak and laughingstock of the whole school.

All the fame and respect he once had vanished without a trace because I made it happen.

Wherever he went, everyone was gossiping and staring at him.

"Look, there's that freak again."

"Seriously, how does a guy that hot suddenly lose his mind?"

"I heard he drove Stefan and the others out of school, and even Martha had to take a break. That guy's savage."

I didn't care about any of it.

I loved being the center of attention, even if all those eyes were full of malice.

This was way better than being Ronald, who used to hide in the corner and let everyone walk all over him.

Now, in Wilson's body, I was living as the very thing he hated and feared most.

And my next target was Martha.

She'd taken a break from school and was hiding at home, avoiding everyone.

But that wasn't going to stop me.

Using Wilson's phone, I sent Martha her first message. [Martha, you there?]

She replied instantly. [Wilson? What do you want now? Get lost!]

Even through the screen, I could tell she was freaking out.

I grinned and slowly typed back, not in any rush. [I miss you.]

[I want to see if you still look as pathetic as you did that day, bawling your eyes out.]

There was a long silence on her end.

Then she sent a flood of insults.

I didn't get mad. Instead, I found it pretty entertaining.

I scrolled through every single message and fired back a reply.

I texted, [Finished cursing me out?

[Now that you're done, let's talk about something real.]

I dug up a photo from Wilson's gallery and sent it over.

It was an old picture of Wilson and Martha making out.

In the photo, they were both smiling happily.

Martha replied, freaking out.

Martha: [Why are you sending me this? What do you want from me?]

I replied: [Nothing.

[Just letting you know, I've got plenty more photos and videos that are more interesting.

[So, what do you think would happen if I put them online?]

It was a blatant threat.

I was going to use the same methods Wilson used to manipulate her, only now, I was using them on her.

I would let her taste what it was like to have her weakness exploited, trapped, and unable to fight back.

Martha: [You're shameless. Wilson, you're a devil.]

I replied: [You are right.

[I'm the devil.

[The devil who crawled out of hell to come for you.]

After sending the messages, I powered down my phone.

I knew Martha's defenses were already starting to crack.

Next, all I had to do was turn up the heat, little by little.

The next day, I sent her a voice recording.

It was the one where she was crying her eyes out, begging Wilson not to dump her.

On the third day, I sent her a doctored photo.

It was her messed-up face, photoshopped onto a downright obscene background.

I was like a patient hunter, messing with her a little every day.

I watched her go from raging and cursing me out, to freaking out and begging me to stop, and finally, to being numb and hopeless.

With every bit of torment I threw at her, her spirit was falling apart.

Finally, after a week, she reached out and called me herself.

Her voice on the line was barely audible, like it could vanish any second.

Martha pleaded, "Wilson, please have mercy. Please let me go.

"What did I do to deserve this? Why are you treating me like this?"

What did she did wrong?

I almost laughed out loud when I heard that.

She really had the guts to ask me what she did wrong.

She forgot how she and Wilson cornered me in the bathroom and dumped filthy water all over my head.

She forgot how she snatched my homework and ripped it to shreds right in front of everyone.

She forgot how she stood on the rooftop, laughing, and said, "Ronald, why don't you go to hell?"

Then, together with Wilson, she reached out and joined in, her hands as guilty as his.

She acted like none of it ever happened.

But I remembered every single thing.

"Martha." My voice was devoid of any warmth, cold enough to make her shiver.

"Do you remember Ronald?" I asked, letting the chill in my words sink in.

I heard her gasp on the other end, like she was frozen.

It took a few seconds before she finally spoke, her voice trembling. "Why... why are you even talking about him?

"Isn't he a vegetable now?"

"Yeah." I let out a cold, mocking chuckle. "He's a vegetable now, lying in a hospital bed, never to wake up again.

"So, you think it's all over?

"You think you can keep living your happy lives without a care in the world?"

Martha didn't say a word, but I could hear her shaky, rapid breaths on the other end.

She was scared.

I said coldly, "Martha, listen up.

"I gave you a chance.

"But you, like him, have no remorse at all.

"So don't blame me."

I hung up and saved a video I'd meticulously crafted.

It was a collection of every breakdown I'd forced out of Martha, captured through all the twisted methods I'd used on her.