Chapter 1
A school for young men who committed murder of various degrees: this school once gave its four dormitories its own Leader, and throughout the school years they developed into their own groups—gangs who want to destroy each other and assert dominance over the school.
The Vermillion South; boys who seek to have all kinds of fun, worshipping chaos and destruction.
The Azure East; academic scholars who seek to dominate the school ranks through intellect and a little (lot of) manipulation.
The Western Snow; who upheld peace and unity within their dorm, but won't hesitate to fight for the protection of their members.
and the Dark North; who value strength and power over all, merciless and unforgiving to those who stand in their way, including their own members.
The air between two groups of students was thick with tension as two gangs faced off in the school courtyard. 2nd year student Silver, draped in his signature white coat, stood at the forefront of Western Snow, his calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the restless members behind him.
Across from him is the Vermillion South's leader, Pyro, leaned casually against a pillar, a devilish grin curling his lips as he flicked the lighter in his hand open and shut. His dark skin is making his freckles a bit hard to find unless he shines fire over his face, and his bright red dreadlocks with golden cuffs highlights his gold hazel eyes.
"Where's ya leader, Snowflake!" Pyro yells out with a flashy southern-creole accent. "Unfair I'm out here exposin' my thick dick but your fox of a leader keeps hidin' in a hole. Is it that tight?"
The fiery glint in his eyes promised chaos. Vermillion South's gang grins in anticipation, ready to strike at their leader's signal. All while Western Snow stood calmly, wearing white jackets and coats for the fall season. Silver stands there with jet black hair to his waist, their gang uniform highlighting the deep winter contrasts in his skin. He has the bone structure of a Russian supermodel, a black haired man with blue eyes and a permanent blush from how allergic to the sun he is.
Silver stepped forward, his voice cold and steady.
"Your boys started fires in our territory again, Pie."
"HEY!" Pyro points at Western Snow's second hand, "It's pie-ro. PYRO, goddamn Pie is NOT COOL, Snowflake!"
Silver replies, "Then stop calling me Snowflake."
"No way, Snowflake. HAHAHAHAHA!" Pyro shrugged with mock innocence, "I'll keep calling you that until you stop being butthurt about fire spreading. Can't always control where it goes. Maybe it went up your ass, huh? Can I check?"
The members of Western Snow murmured angrily, but Silver raised a hand to silence them. His patient gaze locked onto Pyro.
"I mean this in the most disrespectful way, but I'm not letting anyone who washes their hair once a year touch me. We're leaving—"
Before the Western Snow could dismiss them, Pyro swung a metal pole around the neck of one of their members who were too close. "Nah, Snowflake... we're here for some fun. Melt me some ice, boys! Try bringing me that scrumptious long haired freak..."
Without another word, he snapped his lighter shut, and chaos erupted.
Vermillion South charged first, Silver staying protected by his members. While Pyro was on the frontlines reveling in the bodies he managed to topple, Silver watched the war while being surrounded by his gang. He's not very confrontational, and not combat savvy.
While Western Snow was on the defense, Pyro enjoyed beating them up. "HAHAHAHA, you swing like hibernatin' bears—ow, that hurt! Hey—! Don't be hittin' me in front of Snowflake, it's EMBARRASSING!"
The sound of fists meeting flesh filled the courtyard as the two gangs collided in a brutal, messy brawl.
"Enough, Pyro! We're not here to fight!"
"TOO BAD I AM!"
Meanwhile, Pyro waded into the fight like it was a game, his laughter ringing out as he grabbed an opponent's head and slam dunks him into a fallen one. "I CAN'T STAND just sendin' people into fights like your leader, Snowflake. Being here? Crushin' people m'self?! Is the most fun about bein' in a gang!"
"You sadistic psychopath," Silver signaled everyone to stand by. "You're gonna regret talking bad about our leader."
"Do you know what happens when Snow meets fire? THEY MELT! Hahahaha—hold on, I'll think of more puns..." Punch!
At one point, Pyro caught an opponent's bat mid-swing, yanking it out of their hands and using it to knock down two others.
"C'mon, Snowflake! You call this a fight?!" he taunted their faux leader, spinning the bat before tossing it aside. "Why don't we do a 1v1, you 'n I? I'd be happy to take you to my place—"
"Enough games, Pyro," Silver said, his voice steady but cold. "I can't end you, but I know someday you'll end yourself."
Pyro's grin didn't falter as he flicked his lighter open, the flame reflecting in his wild eyes.
"End me?! We're just gettin' started, Snowflake!"
CAMPUS GANGSTERS CHAPTER 1
"Bloody Chickens"
Everyone knows that Carnation Valley is the last thing a violent teenager will see before they die of the violence they oh so love.
This is the story of me dying, with this place being the last thing I see.
The hallways of the sprawling school were eerily quiet as the new student wandered through them, a map in his hand. His hair is a thin, dyed platinum blonde and ended down his chest so he has to put it up in a bun. A bandage on his left cheek from an incident, and his eyes are dead and tired. His sharp, upturned eyes scanned the confusing turns and endless doors, but it was no use—he was lost.
"Great start," he muttered to himself, shoving the map into his pocket.
Suddenly, a cheerful voice broke the silence.
"Hey there! You look a little... misplaced."
He turned to see a boy with perfectly styled hair and a sly smile leaning against a wall, wearing a blue bandana.
"You new here? It's not all the time we get a Chinese, you must be a smart one," the boy in a blue bandana asked, his tone light but sharp, like a blade hidden in silk. "What did you do at your previous school?"
I grew up where people think my eyes are ugly, but for some reason Americans are obsessed with them. I've been called many things... a fox, mostly. I don't sleep, I eat like shit, so don't imagine an attractive protagonist.
My dark circles make me look unapproachable, my skin a bit dirty and rugged from all the fighting and personal neglect. I get bruises a lot too, so I don't look put together especially with a slight slouch and thin frame. Though the fighting kept my muscles toned, I barely had any.
The new student shrugged.
"I'm not Chinese. I was... expelled for the 5th time, and I was told this'll be the last place I'm dumped in before I die. I'm just trying to find my dorm."
The guy raised an eyebrow and chuckled.
"Well, you're lucky this'll be the last place you'll end up in. Whatever got you expelled five times will not get you expelled here. I can help you out."
Reluctantly, the new student followed the student down the hallway. Finally, they stopped in front of a bulletin board listing dorm assignments.
"So, which dorm are you in? If you're smart, you might be one of us," He asked, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. One of them?
"Dark... North?" the new student replied simply. "Must be somewhere north, right?"
The smile on the student's face froze, then quickly vanished.
"Dark North?" His voice dropped, his once-friendly demeanor replaced with cold suspicion. "You're one of them?"
Before the new student could respond, the boy stepped back, and the atmosphere shifted. A group of boys wearing some kind of blue emerged to respond to the first guy, their expressions dark and menacing.
The hallway seemed to shrink as the Azure East members surrounded him, blocking any escape. The first guy stood at the edge of the group, his playful grin now a smirk of malice.
"You see, Dark North has a reputation," the boy who helped him said, swinging around a jackknife. "And we don't take kindly to their snakes wandering around."
One of the boys stepped closer, putting on his brass knuckles. "Let's take him to the leader."
The new student stood still, his gaze calm despite the odds.
"I don't want to go with you," he says, his voice low but firm. "I just want to find my dorm and get lunch." I hope there's Chocolate for dessert.
"Shut up!" another snapped, grabbing him. "You're coming with us!"
In a flash, the new student sidestepped, grabbing the attacker's arm and flipping him to the ground with a sickening thud. The others hesitated for a moment, before they opened their butterfly knife to restrain him.
It was a blur of motion. The new student moved like an expert prey, tiring them out before hitting like a predator. Every strike precise and brutal. He used the hallway to his advantage, slamming one attacker into a locker and ducking behind another to make him collide with his own ally. He opened a damaged locker to block a fist and slam the door against another's head.
Within minutes, eleven boys lay groaning on the ground, defeated. The new student stood over them, barely out of breath. It's not like he actively fought them, he was dodging a lot more.
"Whatever your problem may be, I'm not a fucking snake," he said, stepping over the boys in blue and walking away. "Now where's that fucking dorm."
Unbeknownst to him, a few Vermillion South members, one of whom was filing his teeth to look shark-like, had been watching from around the corner. They exchanged glances, impressed, and quickly made their way back to their dorm to report to Pyro.
THE CAFETERIA
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chaos of lunchtime, but the new student sat alone, eating chocolate pudding quietly. He looked around and saw a weird theme. The school's uniform was a light gray, but each student was wearing some form of color through shirts, bandanas, gloves, jackets. Black, white, blue, red. And those colors only sit with each other.
Dark North... does it mean... he looks at the people wearing black. They looked unfriendly, even to themselves. They have the most tattoos and are big and burly. Something's going on in this school and he's not sure if he likes it.
The calm didn't last long. The doors burst open, and a wave of energy flooded the room as Pyro strolled in, his lighter flicking open and shut in his hand. "The chocolate puddin's ran out?! Hell nah, someone go steal me five. I'm not leavin' here unless I'm havin' the liquid shits from the milk later in my bathroom."
Unlike the others here, this guy didn't just wear a simple color. His entire uniform is red—the blazer, the torn open shirt, the necktie around his forehead, even his hair is in messy locs of red. He's quite tall at 5'10, and his expressions are... expressive.
Behind him, his gang followed like a pack of high school gangsters, their eyes scanning the cafeteria. Pyro's gaze landed on the new student, and his grin widened. He sauntered over, leaning on the table.
"Hey therrrreeeee, neeeeewbie," Pyro said, his tone playful but laced with intrigue. "I heard you done had a little... disaggriment with some Azure East guys earlier. Eyy, I used a big word. I'll most likely misspell it but you get the point."
"Good job, boss."
"So cool, boss!"
Pyro is a ticking time bomb whose ticking is more annoying than the bomb. He doesn't see anyone as an enemy, but he sees everyone as a toy to play with. Whether he wins or loses, he needs to have fun doing it.
The new student looked up, having his lunch disturbed by bloody chickens littering his table.
"And?"
"And," Pyro continued, sitting down across from him, "You absolutely wiped the floor with 'em, newbie! Eleven of 'em, ain't it? Shouldn't you beat up 18 so it'll be legal?"
The gang behind him chuckled, a few nodding in admiration. Pyro leaned in closer, his grin almost childlike. "You've gots' skills. That will keep you alive in 'ere. What's your name—? Actually no, we don't use real names 'ere. You don't have a name, right? Poor thing."
The new student hesitated before answering.
"No.
Pyro slams his fist on the table. "I'll give you a name!"
"What am I, a stray dog?"
"Stray, huh?" Pyro repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "I LIKE IT! Welcome to our school, Stray. I'm Pyro, leader of Vermillion South. I'm okay with you being a Dark North, I'm not racist! I have me a black friend, and I beat him up the same way as the other motherfuckers."
... okay.
"What, you guys are like... bloods and crips in here?" Stray finds himself scoffing, but Pyro's grin only grew.
"You're new 'ere, so let me fill you in," Pyro began, spinning the lighter on the table like a coin. His tone was nonchalant, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Once the school gave each dorm a leader—big mistake by the way, the school became divided by four houses—Azure East, Dark North, the underdeveloped cowards Western Snow, and, of course, the best: Vermillion South."
Stray glanced at him, curious. "Underdeveloped cowards? What's your deal with them?"
At the mention of Western Snow, Pyro's playful expression soured, "Western Snow is filled with nothin' but hibernatin' polar bears and vegetarian winter leopards."
That made Stray smirk, "Why do you sound like you hate Western Snow more than the others?"
The gangster sitting next to him chuckled under his breath. "It's because someone from Western Snow rejected him."
Pyro immediately snapped his lighter shut and whipped his head toward the speaker. "Shut up Jerome, or else I will be racist to you!"
The gangster raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Just saying."
Pyro huffed, rolling his eyes before turning back to Stray, his usual playful demeanor returning, though his smile was tighter now.
"Western Snow's leader, Ghost, is a shut-in that stays in his dorm all the fuckin' time. Paranoid, and never leave his little ice palace unless he has to. He all about loyalty 'n keeping his territory peaceful. Let's just say we don't exactly get along."
Stray tilted his head. "Why's that?"
Pyro's grin returned, but it didn't reach his eyes. He flicked his lighter open again, the flame dancing as he stared into it. "They's just don't know how to have fun like we do."
Stray didn't press further, but he could sense there was more to the story that what he revealed. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't something Pyro wanted to talk about.
"Anyway," Pyro said, clapping his hands together and abruptly changing the subject, "You've gots potential, Stray. I like you. And you'll find that havin' Vermillion South on your side is... benifisial. Big word, eh? Hehe... you should move to our dorm."
Stray smirked slightly as to not trigger another fight when he rejects. "I'll keep that in mind."
Pyro leaned back, flicking his lighter shut once more. "Good. Because this place ain't just about survivin'—it's about havin' fun. And you're a fun one to play with."
