Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip.
Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes.
His pale chest was torn open to the bone.
I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop.
He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel.
And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain.
A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days.
My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid.
"Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume."
If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed.
But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself?
I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive.
Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face.
"Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire."
This time, I will rewrite my own fate.
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Chapter 2
White smoke filled the dungeon, burning Julian's eyes.
Gideon let out a sharp cry. He clutched his right hand. A single drop of the green acid had splashed onto his knuckles, eating through the skin and turning the flesh a sickly black.
He ignored the pain and flipped onto his knees, crawling toward Julian's boots.
"Headmaster! Forgive me!" Gideon's voice cracked in terror. "I was only trying to share your burden!"
Julian stared down at the boy. This was the idiot who constantly pushed Kamari past the breaking point in the novel. This was the idiot who would get them both killed.
A dry, scraping sound came from the cross.
Kamari was laughing. It wasn't a real laugh. It was a broken, wet sound that scraped against the back of his throat.
"What new psychological game is this?" Kamari rasped. His golden eyes locked onto Julian, burning with fresh venom. "You disgust me, Benedict."
Julian's heart skipped a beat. The protagonist just used his first name. That was practically a death sentence.
He couldn't apologize. If he showed weakness, if he broke character now, the magical world would sense the shift. Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
He had to play the monster to survive.
Julian looked down at Gideon. He tapped into the foreign memories sitting in the back of his brain, trying to recall the exact feeling described in his own manuscript. He mimicked the mental focus required. Instantly, a cold, stagnant force crashed against his chest, violently expanding in his veins and nearly suffocating him. Panic flared as the unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed his senses. He jerked his right hand up in a desperate bid to release the pressure. An unstable wave of dark purple energy shot out wildly from his fingertips. The magic spiraled out of control, accidentally forming a crushing weight.
A wave of heavy gravity magic slammed down onto Gideon's back.
A loud crack echoed in the room. Gideon screamed. His chest hit the stone floor so hard the breath was knocked out of his lungs. He lay pinned, unable to move a single muscle.
Kamari's breath hitched. His jaw ticked. He stared at Gideon's crushed form, unable to process what he was seeing. Benedict never punished his own dogs.
Julian forced his face to remain completely blank. His stomach churned violently at the sound of the breaking bone.
He turned his attention to the whip still clutched in his right hand. He walked over to the iron brazier burning in the corner. He tossed the leather whip directly into the flames.
The fire flared a sickly green. The leather curled and turned to ash in seconds.
Kamari watched the whip burn. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow jerks.
Julian turned his back to the fire. He walked slowly toward the obsidian cross. He stopped exactly one step out of Kamari's reach. He clasped his hands tightly behind his back so Kamari wouldn't see them trembling.
Julian pushed magic into his vocal cords, amplifying his voice so it would bleed through the heavy oak doors to the guards outside.
"From this day forward," Julian commanded, his voice vibrating in the small room. He looked at Gideon, then brought his eyes back to Kamari. "No one steps foot in this dungeon without my direct order. And no one touches a single hair on his head."
Gideon whimpered against the floor, his eyes bulging in disbelief.
Kamari clenched his teeth. Blood loss was making his head loll, but he fought to keep his eyes open. He stared at Julian, searching for the lie.
"If you're going to kill me... just do it," Kamari whispered. "Stop playing these sick games."
His chin dropped to his chest. His body went entirely limp against the silver chains. He was out cold.
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7.1
The night before her wedding to Wall Street billionaire Everette Baird, Deliah Quinn stood happily in her haute couture gown.
Then, her younger sister Arvilla walked in, handed her a drugged glass of champagne, and slammed an ultrasound on the vanity.
"I'm pregnant with Everette's child," Arvilla sneered.
Before Deliah's paralyzed body could react, Arvilla dragged in a canister of industrial gasoline, soaked the bridal suite, tossed a lighter, and locked the heavy oak doors from the outside.
To escape the roaring inferno, Deliah smashed the glass balcony and threw herself into the freezing, violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For five agonizing years, everyone believed the Quinn heiress was dead.
Deliah returned to New York entirely reborn—a top architectural designer and a single mother, having scrubbed her past clean and forgotten the people who destroyed her.
She only wanted a peaceful life with her five-year-old genius son, Leo.
But she had no idea her son was secretly hacking airport security cameras to find himself a wealthy stepdad.
Leo deliberately bumped into a terrifying, cold-blooded tycoon, spilling scalding coffee on his custom suit to get his attention.
When Deliah frantically rushed over to protect her son and apologize, the air in the terminal vanished.
Everette Baird stared at the exact face he had obsessively mourned for five years, his eyes turning pitch black as he crushed his phone in his bare hand.
7.4
Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum.
She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection.
The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her.
Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind.
"I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back."
How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival.
Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.
8.5
Sera was the obedient, spoiled Hollywood socialite of the Beaumont family, completely devoted to her fiancé, Ethan.
But her life ended in a freezing Eastern European warehouse, chained to a damp concrete floor.
Right before she died, her captors shoved the transfer documents in her face. Ethan had sold her to human traffickers to cover his massive underground gambling debts.
While she suffered in absolute hell, her adoptive mother went on national television.
She squeezed out fake tears, publicly framing Sera for stealing family funds and eloping with a secret lover.
Sera's reputation was completely destroyed, and she was left to die a miserable, agonizing death in the dark.
She didn't understand why her family treated her like a disposable piece of trash.
She understood even less how the man who promised to marry her could hand her over to monsters without a second thought.
When she opened her eyes again, the biting cold and heavy iron chains were gone.
She was back five years in the past.
She was lying on a hotel bed, her limbs heavy with date-rape drugs, while a predatory Hollywood director hovered inches from her face.
It was the exact "exclusive audition" Ethan had arranged to exploit her for the very first time.
Sera didn't scream. With lethal, practiced precision, she shattered the director's wrist and brought a heavy crystal ashtray down on his skull.
The bleeding man collapsed onto the carpet and whimpered.
"Ethan promised... he said you'd be compliant..."
Staring at his pathetic face, a cold, predatory smile stretched across Sera's lips.
This time, she was going to systematically dismantle their lives.
7.5
I thought my best friend Mila and my lover Preston were my only salvation from Essex Langley, the ruthless billionaire who kept me caged in his estate.
I trusted them blindly when they planned my grand escape.
But it was all a cruel setup.
Mila deliberately leaked the plan to Essex's guards to win his favor, and Preston only wanted my family's shares to pay off his massive debts.
When we were caught in the rose garden, Preston shoved me toward the guards and ran for his life.
"You're insane if you think I actually loved a freak like you!"
I was dragged back into the manor, my ribs cracking under heavy boots.
I bled out on the freezing marble floor, staring into Essex’s unhinged, mad eyes as I took my last agonizing breath.
Until the moment I died, I couldn't accept it.
I had ruined my own life, adopting a hideous punk look with fake tattoos and piercings just to make Essex hate me, all for two people who saw me as nothing but a sacrificial lamb.
Why was my blind rebellion rewarded with such a brutal betrayal?
Opening my eyes again, the white-hot pain was gone.
I was back in the freezing bedroom on my eighteenth birthday, the very night Mila would come to orchestrate my ruin.
I looked at the rebellious, smudged stranger in the mirror.
This time, I calmly washed off the black makeup, took out my lip ring, and put on a pristine white dress.
If fighting the devil got me killed, then in this life, I would tame him and make them all pay.
9.7
I am the Luna of the Blackwood Pack, but my Alpha mate, Ryker, has spent the last six years treating me like a placeholder while publicly pining for his ex, Faye.
When Faye's friends cornered my wolfless daughter and called her a defective embarrassment, I finally used my Luna authority to kick them out.
But instead of defending our child, Ryker stormed in and used his Alpha Command on me.
He forced me to my knees with his raw power, ordering me to apologize to the bullies who had just humiliated our daughter.
When I fought his crushing command and refused, his retaliation was swift and brutal.
He and his mother stripped me of my family's sacred heritage, the Moonpetal Grove, and gifted it to Faye as a reward.
They even tried to force a quack doctor on my daughter, telling me to just accept that she was broken.
The entire pack watched me lose everything, mocking me as the useless, rejected mate.
I had endured his coldness for years, but watching him sacrifice our daughter's safety and my family's legacy for his mistress was the final straw.
How could the Moon Goddess tie me to a man who would so easily destroy his own flesh and blood?
Instead of crying, I pulled out my mother's ancient grimoire and drafted a formal rejection of our mate bond.
And when a terrifyingly powerful, cloaked stranger suddenly appeared to save my daughter's life, carrying a familiar scent of ancient power, I knew my fate was changing.
This time, I wouldn't just walk away. I was going to burn their world to the ground.
7.1
The powerful white wolf promised to return but no one could predict how subtle and humble her return would be. They expect a great appearance and ignore a quiet and unpredictable arrival and it's a legendary fact that whoever mates with her, becomes the most powerful Lycan to ever exist. Many Alphas and Lycans await the return of the Legendary white wolf and when Alpha Kasper of the Cliffwood pack discovered that his destined mate from the moon goddess for him was the wolfless Omega Amelia, daughter of the Pack's Beta, he tortured her and rejected her. And just when he thought she wouldn't survive his rejection, a twist followed, he realised that his rejected mate was the long awaited White wolf, his world came crashing and a curse was left behind....