My Past Life-Part 18.
The Abandoned classroom..
Peter paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing softly. His mind was racing, filled with thoughts and plans. He muttered to himself, trying to figure out what to do next.
Jolie watched him, her arms crossed. She could see the tension in his body. "Peter," she said, breaking the silence. "So, you're saying that Joe called you yesterday and decided to settle everything between you both today?"
Peter didn't stop walking. He kept moving, lost in his thoughts. "Hmm," he mumbled, barely listening.
Jolie frowned. "Peter, are you even listening to me?"
Finally, Peter let out a deep sigh and stopped pacing. "Yeah," he said, his voice low. "That's what he said."
Jolie tilted her head. "So why are you thinking so much about this? At least now you can beat him up all you want."
Peter shook his head. "Hmmm… You don't get it, do you, Jolie? Or are you just playing dumb? You should know who and what he really is."
Jolie shrugged. "Well, I didn't look into his details. I wasn't given access to his profile—only the ones they gave me."
Peter suddenly stopped. His eyes narrowed, and his body tensed with anger. He turned to face Jolie directly. "Who are they?" he demanded. "Who are these people who are so concerned with me?"
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until only a few inches separated their faces. His voice was sharp. "Who are they, Jolie? And truly… who are you?"
Jolie sighed and gently pushed him back. "We're a group called the Nameless," she said softly. "That's all I can tell you for now. I don't have any family, so this group took me in when I was little. They raised me, taught me, loved me, and trained me. That's all I can say right now. I'm sorry."
Peter stared at her for a moment, then grabbed a nearby chair and sat down heavily. "Nameless, huh?" he muttered. "And you're an orphan."
Jolie nodded. "Yeah."
Peter ran his hand through his hair, thinking. "I always thought secret groups and organizations only existed in places like America or France. I didn't really believe we had those here in Nigeria."
Jolie smiled gently. "Why would you say that, Peter? There are court groups in Nigeria, and even secret groups in the military and paramilitary forces. And they all have their own agendas."
Peter nodded slowly. "Well, the court groups are different." He sighed. "Hmmm… I need to prepare for Joe. Sarah will be coming back to school tomorrow. I don't want to fight them when I'm supposed to be with her."
Jolie's expression softened. "True. And you'll tell her about us, right?"
Peter looked away. "I will… but not yet. I'll tell her eventually."
Jolie nodded. "Alright." She paused, then leaned forward. "Tell me one thing, though. How did you become so strong and mature?"
Peter's face darkened. "When you grow up in a violent family, you have every reason to become strong and mature."
Jolie grabbed a chair and sat directly in front of him. "I know. But how did you learn to fight?"
Peter took a deep breath. "I joined a paramilitary group. They taught me how to fight, but they didn't teach me enough. So, I trained under a retired military officer. It wasn't easy, but he took me in. He didn't just teach me how to fight—he taught me how to survive."
Jolie smiled. "I see. That's why you're so strong. But this strength isn't complete, is it?"
Peter's eyes flickered with emotion. "No. My anger, hatred, and pain complete my strength."
Jolie reached out and touched his arm. "Listen, babe. I won't be there to help you fight Joe. My orders are clear—I can only step in if you're about to die. So be careful."
Peter clenched his fists. "Yeah," he said quietly. Then he looked up, his expression hardening. "And it seems… it's time already."
Jolie's eyes were fixed on Peter, who had just stood up, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Alright, my love," Jolie said softly, her voice calm but filled with dark encouragement. "Go and wreck some havoc… and show no forgiveness."
Peter laughed—a cold, chilling sound that echoed off the empty walls. Then, with a voice so powerful it seemed to shake the room, he spoke:
"Oh, I will. They will pay. They will suffer. They will beg… and they will die."
Without another word, Peter turned and walked out of the classroom, his footsteps heavy with purpose. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Jolie alone in the silence.
But she wasn't alone for long.
A deep, unfamiliar voice cut through the quiet like a knife.
"Are you sure about letting his anger take over him like that, Jolie?"
Jolie's heart leaped into her throat. She spun around, her body tense with shock. Standing in the shadows was a tall, broad-shouldered figure—a man built like a warrior, his muscles straining against his dark clothing.
"Fuck!" Jolie gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Where did you come from, Scorpio?"
Scorpio didn't move. His cold eyes locked onto hers as he answered in a slow, mocking tone.
"There are windows, Jolie. Obviously, I came in through one of them."
Jolie's fingers tightened around the doorknob behind her. She was ready to run, but something in Scorpio's presence froze her in place.
"You're not supposed to be here," she hissed. "And you're definitely not supposed to have found me."
Scorpio's lips curled into a dangerous smile. "The organization sent me, Joy." (He always called her by her real name when he wanted to remind her of her place.) "You've let your emotions interfere with your missions. So, I've been sent to warn you."
Jolie's breath hitched.
"Resume your missions," Scorpio continued, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Or the next time you see me… it will be your last."
Jolie's grip on the doorknob turned white-knuckled.
"Kill Sarah. Kill Joe. And kill Peter," Scorpio ordered. "That's your mission. Handle it… or you die. And someone else will be sent to finish what you couldn't."
Jolie's chest rose and fell rapidly. She wanted to run, but fear and defiance kept her rooted to the spot.
"Wait, Scorpio—" she pleaded, her voice shaking. "I love him. You know I haven't loved anyone… not since after Barry died."
Scorpio's expression darkened. His voice turned venomous.
"You're a thirty-year-old woman, Joy. And that boy is just fourteen. The organization wants them all dead."
Jolie's eyes burned with unshed tears. "But why? Why him? Why Peter?"
Scorpio hesitated—just for a second—before answering.
"I'll tell you only because of Barry," he said, his tone slightly softer, though still icy. "They're a potential threat to the organization. Peter and Joe are getting stronger every week. Imagine what happens when they become even stronger. And Sarah's family… well, they're the reason she has to die."
Jolie shook her head in disbelief. "You can't be serious! They want him dead just because he's strong? You're lying, Scorpio!"
In a flash, Scorpio moved. One second, he was across the room—the next, he was right in front of her, his massive hand closing around her throat. Jolie gasped as he lifted her off the ground, her feet dangling helplessly in the air.
"You know I dislike you a lot," Scorpio growled, his grip tightening. "I only tolerated you because of Barry. Now that he's dead… don't expect me to be kind."
Jolie clawed at his hands, her vision blurring. "I—I—I can't… breathe!" she choked out.
Scorpio smirked. "This is how you'll die, Joy… if you fail."
Then, just as suddenly as he had grabbed her, he let go. Jolie crashed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her bruised throat.
By the time she looked up, Scorpio was gone—vanished into the shadows as if he had never been there at all.
Jolie's body trembled with rage, fear, and helplessness. She slammed her fist against the floor, her scream tearing through the empty room.
"FUUUUUCK!"
The sound echoed, unanswered.
To be continued…