Re-Birth Of A Genius. Creator/Destroyer-Novel

One hour after waterboarding and beating the crap out of him, Sam was left alone on the floor of the cafeteria.

He slowly picked himself up and walked out of the room.

One week later.

At the same time in the same cafeteria.

Sam is sitting at the same table and eating while a different group of kids came.

"Oi, Bastard. Get lost."

"I am not a Bastard. Stop calling me that."

"Then why don’t you tell that to the instructors. They call you the Bastard all the time. Until the time they stop calling you that, you will always be a bastard. Now, dear bastard. Fuck off from the table."

Sam ignored them and kept on eating.

"You are indeed a hard-headed Bastard aren’t you? Get him, guys."

They dragged him by his collar once again and they started beating the crap out of him.

"Come on. Say it. I. AM. A BASTARD."

One hour later, Sam was left with bleeding injuries, a broken nose, and dislocated shoulder in the middle of some spilled food.

He once again slowly stood up and limped away.

One week later.

Inside the restroom.

Sam was urinating, when he has suddenly pulled away from there and he was taken into the bathroom stall and his head was dunked into the toilet bowl.

"Hey, Bastard. Big brother put a bounty on you. The person that makes you admit that you are a Bastard is going to get rewarded big time.

Now, admit it or I will flush you down ten times before I ask you again."

Sam who was shocked out of his wits didn’t even know what was happening and before he could make sense of his situation...

"Time is up. Happy flushing. You Bastard."

One week later, Sam was left outside in the open field buck naked throughout the whole night because he didn’t admit he was a bastard.

Another week later, he got jumped in the library. His head was bashed against the wooden bookshelf until it was completely broken and his forehead started bleeding.

Another week later, he was waterboarded with hot and cold water continuously while he was in the shower.

Another week later, he was ganged up on hand-to-hand combat lessons and he lost three ribs on that day and got a concussion.

While he is going through the abuse he could only hear one thing.

"Say it. Say it with me. I. AM. A. BASTARD."

Time passed, he became eleven years old. He became a bit taller and a bit stronger, not much but the training he went through made up for what he needed to do.

In the same cafeteria. Sam was once again sitting on the same table, alone.

A group came and asked.

"Hey Bastard, fuck off. How many times should we tell you? You are not to sit on this table."

Sam didn’t speak and just stood up. But instead of getting away, he picked up his steel plate and turned it sideways before smashing the edge on the head of the guy who spoke.

The sharp edge of the steel plate made a small hole in the forehead and the plate lodged there.

Sam looked coldly as the boy bled and lost consciousness.

He looked at the rest of the boys with the same coldness.

"I am not a Bastard."

Of course, the boys retaliated, but they didn’t have the expected outcome.

One hour later. Sam is standing with a lot of cuts and bruises on his body with his chest bare. He didn’t look like an eleven-year-old kid. He is currently holding a thirteen-year-old boy on the counter of the cafeteria and a bunch of other kids is rolling on the ground with the forks and knives lodged into their bodies. The only thing he didn’t do that day is killing them.

He held the fork at the boy’s throat and said.

"Say it, say it with me. YOU ARE NOT A BASTARD."

The body looked at Sam crazily and said.

"Do you think you can get away with it? We are internal kids, you are a bastard, you will pay hell for this."

Sam sighed and picked up a cloth nearby and dipped it in the hot soup in a large container beside him before placing it on the bruised face of the boy.

"That is not what I asked you to say."

With that, he took a steel mug, scooped the piping hot soup, and poured it over the cloth on the boy.

"SAY IT. SAY IT WITH ME. YOU. ARE. NOT. A. BASTARD."

He poured over four steel mugs worth before a middle-aged man came in and looked at the horrifying scene and stopped Sam.

One hour later.

Sam was brought in front of a middle-aged man.

"You did all of that in Cafeteria. Why?" Googlᴇ search Noᴠelꜰire.nᴇt

"Because I am not a bastard and they kept calling me that."

"Hahaha, you are an outsider and the core reason you are in the organization is that your parents have forsaken you, you are an unwanted burden nobody wants to be responsible for. You are a Bastard through and through, whether you accept it or not."

Sam looked at him coldly and spoke.

"I am not a Bastard."

The middle-aged man smiled and suddenly grabbed Sam’s hair and slammed him onto the wooden table.

"You don’t talk back to me, you Bastard. You listen when I speak and admit when I say, you are a Bastard. Do you understand?"

"I am not a Bastard."

*BAM*

The middle-aged man punched Sam in the face, knocking him out instantly.

Sam woke up back in his dorm.

The next day in the library, he slammed the head of a guy on the table and the other one into a bookshelf breaking both.

Three days later, he dunked a guy’s head into the toilet seat and hit him to the edge until the other guy bled and fainted, and he shoved a garden hose into another guy’s ass.

A week later, he shoved roasted chicken legs and made a guy swallow so many that he had to go to surgery to remove them and in the process almost died.

Of course, every time, he did such a thing, one thing awaited him.

He was always dragged by that one middle-aged man and tied up. A leather whip was used to punish him to make sure that Sam got that less.

"How many times do I need to tell you? A Bastard is gonna be called a Bastard and the more you react this way, the more you would suffer. Of course, it would be my pleasure if you do more things like these.

We could get this alone time and it would be my pleasure to educate you more and more."

He said as he whipped Sam until his skin cracked.

But Sam was unyielding and the very next day, he dragged a fellow classmate to the kitchen in the middle of some theory class and dunked his head inside the boiling stew because that guy threw a rolled paper ball with the word Bastard written on it.

Days passed and soon Sam is twelve years old.

One day in the cafeteria.

He is sitting on the ground with his legs crossed and eating from a plate with his blood-soaked hand.

His whole body is soaked in blood and there are some cuts and bruises on his bare upper body. There are a bunch of guys soaked in their blood laying down unconscious on the floor and the kitchen staff is already left in fear.

Sam ate the food with his hand and looked at the rest saying softly.

"I told you a million times. I am not a Bastard."

He used the edge of the plate to smash on the guy’s abdomen cutting it open and stood up as he limped out.

The middle-aged man opened up the cafeteria door and looked at Sam and the rest of the kids.

There are at least thirty kids with broken limbs and other severe injuries.

The middle-aged man is extremely angry and he took the whip which hung on his belt as he looked at Sam with a menacing expression.

Sam turned around and ran away without looking back.

"Stop right there you sick bastard. Today I will kill you."

Sam ran behind the counter and played the game of cat and mouse with the guy. But soon he was caught. They grabbed Sam by his shoulder and whipped him on the face.

Sam didn’t even flinch as he not only took the hit, but he even caught the whip by his teeth and grinned at the middle-aged man with a psychotic look.

Thirty minutes later.

A bunch of guards ran into the cafeteria, but Sam and the middle-aged man are not there, they looked at the open kitchen door and walked into it and the scene shocked them.

Sam is currently sitting over a large boiling pot of soup. The pot is so big that it could be used as a hot tub. But that is not what shocked them.

The shocking thing is the fact that between Sam and the pot, the upper body of the middle-aged man is being dunked into the soup as used his whole body weight to make sure that the head is fully submerged.

The middle-aged man’s arms were burnt as well as there are very deep teeth marks and some flesh was torn off of them making them completely useless not giving the man any leverage to push upwards.

There are bloodstains at his crotch and the blood is actually dripping from there over his pants and one of his legs is in a crooked shape. He clearly couldn’t stand up from there.

Sam didn’t even care that his own legs are submerged in the boiling soup. He just ignored the burning feeling and dunked the middle-aged man’s head and made sure it stayed in that soup.

The guards ran over and forcefully pulled Sam off.

His legs are covered with long boots which saved protected them a bit, but the same couldn’t be said for the middle-aged man, his skin simply came off and even the hair fell off as if it was not even the part of the scalp.

The guard checked the pulse and breath and confirmed that the man is dead and looked at Sam in shock.

Sam looked at that face which doesn’t have any resemblance to the original appearance of the man and said coldly.

"I am not a Bastard."