Silent Havoc

Unsettled

James ran through the hallways, barely catching his breath as he barged into the senior block. There, seated with a calm but commanding presence, was his older brother—John.

“Brother… Silas is alive,” James gasped, panting as the other gang members behind him nodded, their faces pale with disbelief.

“What?” John’s fist slammed the desk in front of him, rattling everything on it.

“He said… he’s going to get revenge—for what we did to him and Zulie. And he looked dead serious. Like, confident beyond anything I’ve seen,” James stammered, the usual toughness in his voice stripped away by fear.

John stood, stepping closer, and gave James a dismissive tap on the head. “Are you seriously scared of one guy? I thought you were tougher than that. You’ve got me. You’ve got the crew. What can one Silas do?”

He smirked, leaning against the desk.

“And don’t forget—Zulie’s video is still in my hands. He won’t try anything stupid knowing that. One wrong move, and it’s all over the internet. That alone gives me full control over him. I don’t care if he survived—he’ll still be the fool we made him out to be.”

James hesitated, his voice shaky. “But… doesn’t it bother you, bro? We all saw you kick him off that rooftop… yet he survived. Something about him now—it’s not human anymore.”

“Shut the hell up!” John snapped, striking James on the head again.

“Do you want the whole school to hear you talking like that? Listen, he probably just got lucky. End of story,” John muttered, brushing off the tension.

Meanwhile, at the lab…

Inside the cold, sterile office, Mr. Maxwell—a retired war hero turned head scientist—entered with his usual grim presence. He was now part of a classified experiment to create a soldier capable of facing an army alone—fearless, unbreakable, and deadly.

“So,” Maxwell began, his voice low but commanding, “you’re telling me the boy was bitten by the bat?”

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Sam answered, not meeting Maxwell’s eyes.

“Did you see the bite mark yourself? We need concrete evidence, Sam. We can’t afford to waste time on false leads. If you’re wrong, it’ll cost us everything.”

Sam hesitated. “Well… I saw a dark spot on his side, but his grandmother claims it’s just a birthmark. Still, the timing lines up. The bat escaped the night before the boy’s fall.”

Maxwell frowned, skeptical.

“But sir,” Sam continued, walking toward the window, “look at that rooftop over there. That’s where he fell from. No human should survive a drop from that height. And yet… he did. Not just survived—he recovered without any treatment.”

Maxwell crossed his arms. “You’re saying his body healed… on its own?”

“Yes. Rapidly. We conducted all kinds of tests—bloodwork, imaging, you name it. Everything came back normal. But the physical wounds? Gone. Like they were never there,” Sam explained, his voice still filled with disbelief. “That kind of recovery—it’s not natural. It has to be because of the bite.”

Maxwell exhaled in frustration. “But without proof, it’s all just theory. We can’t confirm anything unless the mutation activates like it did in the bat.”

Sam nodded slowly. “We could… test it. Put him under pressure. See how he reacts. The bat only broke the glass cage after it was cornered—it was the stress that triggered the transformation.”

“Interesting,” Maxwell said, finally taking a seat. “Let’s bring the boy in.”

Sam scratched his head. “There’s a problem, sir… His grandmother. She won’t allow it. She threatened us if we try to lock him up. She says he’s her only living family left.”

Maxwell’s expression didn’t change. “That’s irrelevant. If he really was bitten, and the mutation takes over—we’ll be dealing with something far worse than guilt. This project was tested on dozens of animals, but only the bat responded. And that took three months. If we’re not careful, Silas could become uncontrollable.”

Sam looked down. “So what do we do?”

Maxwell stood. “We visit his grandmother. If she doesn’t agree… we force it. It’s too risky letting him walk around freely. This could be the beginning of something we’re not ready for.”

“Prepare, we’ll leave in minutes,” he said, his tone final.

It was already lunchtime at school.

Zulie had only stuck by Silas, feeling like he was her last source of strength—the only person who truly understood what she was going through.

They walked side by side to the cafeteria.

Whispers followed them.

Are they dating or something?

It’s really weird if they’re dating.

Zulie’s parents would never let them be together.

The whispers grew louder in Silas’s head, as though the voices were coming through a speaker, even though the words were no more than quiet murmurs between the students.

Silas tried to shake it off.

He sat across from Zulie at the table, noticing how uneasy she seemed. The gaze of the big boys’ gang from behind her made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t even lift her spoon to her mouth; she just kept looking around, watching everyone.

Suddenly, Silas clutched his head as the voices in his mind surged.

“Grandma, what about your grandson Silas? Is he home yet?”

“Ma’am, we need to search his room.”

“It’s important, ma’am. Please step aside.”

The voices came rapidly, one after another, and Silas could hear them as if they were right beside him.

He knew something was wrong back home, something urgent.

Zulie noticed his distress. “Silas, are you okay?”

He gripped his head tighter, trying to block out the noise.

A sudden calm washed over him. “Yes, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice steady, as unreadable as ever—never a smile, never a frown, just a mask since the fall.

The gang members continued watching him from across the room. They knew he wasn’t the same Silas they used to mess with, but they were still trying to figure him out—waiting to see what was happening before they made their next move.