No Chance for Redemption

Can someone really be born a complete bastard?

Dillon Cassidy wouldn’t know, he didn’t have time to ever think about that, but he couldn’t say that he was made into one. Or maybe he was. It didn’t matter though because all in all, he was just that- a complete bastard. There wasn't any excuse behind him; it wasn’t some traumatic past or insecurity because looking at himself, how could he have any of that?

He was just a bastard. A good-looking bastard, yeah, but a bastard at that.

Don’t try to sympathize for Dillon because all you’d ever get is your face smashed in the locker, don’t try to find any redeeming qualities because that was a quest that only led to died trying.

Dillon didn’t care though, because this was who he was. He didn’t need to be liked, who ever got somewhere being liked? Fucked over, that was what happened to good people. If you were feared the entire universe was at your mercy. It was the basic law of human nature, you didn't remember the good people, you remembered those who fucked you over. That was Dillon.

He could’ve started his own fucking religion if he wanted to but why would he? He already knew that they worshipped him.

That was that. There was no need for soul-searching, wondering, finding the answers because they were always right there in front of him. He was always meant to become this, this was who he was. No questions, no denials, just Dillon Cassidy the bastard.

He thought he might as well enjoy to ride to Hell because it was going to be a long one.

“And this chick, man, you should’ve seen the things she did with her mouth, it was crazy, man.” Ryder grinned devilishly while throwing his hands behind his neck, keeping in step on the right.

“Right, man," Owen spat, rolling his eyes, hands stuffed in his pockets to the left. “How much did you pay this one?”

“About twenty more than I did for your mom,” Ryder said smoothly. He winked at the pissed off boy who was radiating obvious hatred with teeth gritted and fists clenched.

“Stop,” Dillon commanded, giving them both a warning glare. Owen immediately snapped his gaze towards the floor while Ryder’s face was consumed with a cheeky grin.

“I’m bored.”

Those were the most dangerous words that could’ve ever left his lips and to everyone who had heard this lethal voice, their minds were instantly thrown in a panic mood: red alert. Nothing good ever came of Dillon’s boredom.

That was the way things had always been, the three of them: Ryder, Owen, and Dillon. The first two just sat on his shoulder’s and called themselves tall but what’s the fun of destruction if there wasn’t someone beside you to laugh along?

Ryder chuckled, dropping his arms and his interest piqued. “Oh, I like the sound of that.”

“But who to choose… who to choose?” Dillon hummed in thought, calculating eyes sweeping up and down the halls as he tapped his thigh impatiently.

It was almost beautiful, how he controlled every single person in his line of sight. Maybe it was a thirst for power but all he knew was how he loved every minute of watching them all squirm under his gaze. There was something satisfying about how just a twitch in someone’s direction and they’d flinch, fear etched on their faces.

At first he could remember he was a freshman but never a lowly one at that, it was only his grade. A couple upperclassmen, sure, but they were spineless wimps. It was common knowledge not to mess with him but he’d never had that absolute power, not like he did now. He’d rightfully earned it when Cody Matthews was sent to the hospital after a rather nasty “fall” down two flights of concrete stairs in junior year.

“A freshman?” Owen piped up, looking to Dillon and ignoring the scoff from Ryder.

“Too easy,” Dillon shot it down, running a hand over his short brown hair. Freshmen were easy prey, you weren’t infamous for picking on the easy shrimps, no, shoot high. “Bigger.”

The universe seemed to be on his side.

Just as he was rounding a corner, Derek Rivard managed to stumble in the way and smash his fat-ass into Dillon. He immediately pushed him off without missing a beat.

Silence flooded the hall, so quiet almost everyone could hear Derek’s thundering heartbeat, as they all slowly turned to the tragedy unravelling before them. Their anxiety was shot and their eyes were wide and it was almost like watching someone stepping off the cliff into their own demise.

Derek was a beefy guy, high school football quality but way too fat for the pros, even though that was his only dream. He was liked, sure, but not well-liked. A big old softie hiding behind his football buddies with Snickers wrappers stuffed in his pockets and his porky fingers stained with chocolate.

Premium future mall cop material and standing before Dillon with his eyes wide and his mouth agape he only resembled a stray puppy. Compassion, though, Dillon had never been acquaintances with.

Dillon laughed. His head fell back and as his hand grazed over his hair, shaking his head and a sadistic amusement glinting in his deep blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! Really!” Derek immediately spilled out, sheer hope written across his face.

That was the thing. There was no hope at Riverdale High. Hope was all but lost.

Dillon shook his head, a mischievous grin still splitting across his face. “We’re all sorry, aren’t we? I’m sorry that I killed him, I’m sorry I raped her, blah blah blah, but being sorry doesn’t really matter, does it? We've all got to pay our dues."

Derek gulped. Ryder laughed. Owen’s lips quirked up into a barely noticeable smirk.

“Come here,” Dillon demanded calmly, not a betraying emotion on his face.

With cautious steps, slow but not too slow- everyone knew that Dillon wasn’t the most patient out there- Derek walked towards him. His hands were by his sides, clenched in fear, and his curly hair barely brushed his terrified eyes.

It was a trip seeing that face. Every time there was that face. The face that recognized Dillon as king, recognized that he owned each and every one of them. This was his sweat shop, he ran this place.

In a matter of seconds Dillon grabbed the side of Derek’s head and smashed the side of his face against the lockers next to them. A crack resonated through the hall. Derek the blubbering baby, immediately crumpled into a heap on the floor, hands wrapped protectively over his head.

“Watch where you’re fucking going you useless piece of shit,” he spat before walking around the lump and continuing down hall.

And that was it. The halls resumed with their usual buzz of conversation, people continued with getting to their classes, with their daily lives. No one helped; no one even glanced at Derek who staggered to his feet. They all turned a blind eye, acting as if they never saw anything, because that’s how you survived. Even the teachers pretended that they didn’t notice.

Ryder continued rambling about how awesome it was, receiving enthusiastic but begrudging agreements from Owen but Dillon barely even heard then. He was distracted by his own reeling thoughts, the unsettled feeling in the pit of him stomach.

Somehow it wasn’t enough. It all turned into a cheap thrill, here one moment and gone the next. It was irritating knowing that after he had walked away from Derek the idiot would get back up. Wipe the tears from his eyes and trek down the hall to be left with what, a crippling paranoia and a throbbing face? In the scheme of things, what did that matter?

It just wasn’t enough.

Dillon wanted something bigger, better. He was a senior now, a couple of scraps and measly pranks weren’t going to satisfy the demon inside. He wanted to ruin these people around him, show them the true power itching underneath his skin. Dillon was better then all of them and he needed them to know that a snap of his fingers and they’d never be the same.

He wanted to haunt their dreams when they were vulnerable. He wanted to destroy them.

In that moment something came to be that would change Riverdale High as everyone knew it. A plan, a thought that blossomed into much, much more than that. An unborn child that would soon become the tyrant of the hallways, their everyday nightmare.

The games were just beginning.

At Riverdale there was no trust. There was no hope, no saviour, no shining light. There was no Satan and there was no God.

There was only Dillon Cassidy.