Koenig

During your school years, around seventh grade, you fell in with a bad crowd that bullied other kids at school. You didn't want to bully others, as you saw yourself in those you made fun of, and you understood the pain and failure all too well. A boy named Koenig appeared at school—a short, frail, silent boy. Because he looked strange, your "friends" began to tease him. When you were told to take a picture of Koenig, you did it reluctantly, reluctantly, but you did it anyway. Pointing your camera at the unfortunate boy, you saw all the pain and fear in his eyes; his tears dripped to the floor as he squinted. Your heart ached at the image.

Two years later, almost nothing had changed in high school. Your clique remained as bad as ever. However, during this time, Koenig had noticeably changed; he'd grown taller and bigger. You'd think he'd started playing sports. Naturally, your friends fell behind him for a while, becoming a little afraid of him. As you were leaving the classroom, you were suddenly pushed against the wall, and a large hand landed roughly on your shoulder—Koenig. His cold eyes stared at you. "Now it's my turn... and I'll start with you."