Chapter 6 Animation School Kickoff
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louise’s voice was hot with anger, practically burning a hole through the room.
She added,”Imani’s not you, Briar. If people found out she’s not a real Shepherd, how’s she supposed to keep going? Four years ago, you had it in for her, and now what? Why you gotta pick on her again?”
“Alright, fine.” Briar gave a sharp laugh, nodding lazily. “Since you’re so curious, four years back, Imani trashed that dress and pointed the finger at me.
“Now she’s trying to frame me with that diamond necklace. Why don’t you ask her what she’s playing at?”
The words hit, and Louise’s eyes snapped to Imani, brows furrowing.
When she spotted the diamond necklace on the floor, her jaw dropped. “Imani, isn’t that the birthday gift your dad and I gave you? What’s it doing there?”
Imani, always quick with a sob story, had her act ready.
Her eyes welled up with crocodile tears as she sniffled, “I… I just wanted to give it to Briar. I didn’t mean anything by it. Why does she… hate me so much?”
Briar took in Imani’s Oscar-worthy act. ‘Somebody sign this chick to a movie deal,’ she thought.
Louise’s face darkened as she barked at Briar, “Just ’cause you’re twisted doesn’t mean everyone else is!”
Briar smirked to herself. ‘Yeah, good luck talking sense to these clowns.’
Louise opened her mouth to keep ripping into Briar, but then she caught her leaning against the doorframe, head down, cracking her knuckles slowly.
For no reason, Louise’s eyelid twitched.
In a flash, Briar moved like a storm, closing the gap and landing a flurry of slaps across Imani’s face—left, right, left, right.
It was so fast, Louise and Martin swore they saw afterimages.
Imani stumbled, head spinning, too dazed to speak.
“This is too much!” Louise growled, teeth gritted so hard they might crack.
Briar flashed a smug grin. “I was gonna hit her with eighty slaps—five at a time, eight rounds, switch sides, repeat. But it’s late, so I’ll save the other seventy-five for later. Now scram.”
“Briar, you little—” Louise lunged, fury boiling over, but nearly ate the door as Briar slammed it in her face.
“Briar! Get out here!” she shouted.
Briar smirked at the yelling outside, her lips curling with mockery.
If this wasn’t Cordanland, and if she didn’t have bigger fish to fry, she’d have made sure Imani’s face did a full 180.
She popped open her laptop, the group chat still blowing up. Briar wasn’t in the mood for the noise, so she slid into Black Wolf’s DMs.
Black Mamba: [Send the drug handoff details to me.]
Black Wolf: [What?]
Black Wolf: [Where’d you run off to?]
Black Mamba: [Tried talking sense into some clowns.]
Black Wolf: [The hell? You? Talking sense?]
‘Since when does Snake do reasonable?’ Black Wolf wondered.
Black Mamba: [Just realized this world’s a total mess.]
She fired off a cute meme, then yanked it back in a flash.
Black Wolf: [Yo, who’s this? Snake? You for real?]
Black Mamba: [Whatever. I’m handling the handoff.]
Black Wolf: [So, when you coming back?]
Black Mamba: [Not soon. I’m out here soaking up family warmth.]
Briar snapped her laptop shut, slumped in her chair, and rubbed her eyes for a quick break.
Meanwhile, on a gritty training base somewhere in the Baclan Ocean, a guy in full camo lounged on a speedboat cutting through the waves, staring at his phone, totally stumped.
‘Family warmth?’ he echoed inside.
Last he checked, Black Mamba went home four years ago. Came back like a drill instructor on steroids, running the newbies into the ground.
That year, District 21’s death rate went through the roof, and Black Mamba got benched for two years.
That family vibe? More like a blast furnace than a cozy campfire.
Black Wolf stood there, gobsmacked, for a solid three minutes before shoving his phone in his pocket.
He grabbed his megaphone and yelled at the rookies floundering in shark-infested waters. “Mamba’s out on a mission, so you lucky punks get me—Black Wolf, District 15’s top dog!
“We’ve got the lowest death rate on this island. Stick with me, and you’ll walk outta here with all your limbs!”
‘Well, crap,’ the rookies cursed silently.
*****
Three days later, Briar had the meds and was ready for Limond University’s move-in day.
She’d never done the school thing, but she had a fake diploma from some sketchy overseas high school.
Besides being Black Mamba of the Strueze region, she needed a real identity—one that could pass a background check.
Briar crammed the pill bottles into her bag, grabbed her suitcase, and bounced.
School wasn’t her vibe, but it beat dealing with the nutjobs at home. Once she got those files, she’d jet off as an exchange student, no sweat.
Downstairs, the living room was dead quiet, just a cleaning lady mopping the floor.
“Where’s everyone?” Briar asked, squinting.
The lady looked up. “Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd took your sister to school.”
Briar shrugged. “Whatever.”
A happy family outing? Hard pass. She dragged her suitcase out, booked an Uber, and headed for Limond University.
Move-in day was a circus. The campus was packed, cars lined up for blocks, traffic jammed solid.
“Hey, kid, this is my stop. It’s a madhouse up there,” the driver said, glancing at the stunning girl in the backseat. “No parents to drop you off on move-in day?”
Briar flicked her phone screen, barely listening. “Nah, orphan.”
The driver froze, his eyes full of pity.
She hopped out, lugging her suitcase down the sidewalk, strolling toward campus.
She glanced at her admission letter: Art Institute, Animation.
Funny enough, she’d dabbled in game coding before, but her art sucked, so she’d brushed up on design.
“You in acting, right?” A tall, good-looking guy jogged up at the gate, all grins. “Hi, I’m a junior in theater at Limond. You’re a drama major too, yeah? Lemme grab your bag.”
Briar eyed his name tag and deadpanned, “Nah, I’m animation.”
“Animation?” The guy’s jaw dropped.
He glanced from her face to her admission letter. ‘A face like that, and she’s an art geek?’
“Problem?” Briar raised an eyebrow.
“Nope, nothing!” he said, backpedaling. “Art Institute’s that way… Yo, Luka, got a freshman for your program!”
