My Anti-hero Fairy System

"What the fuck!" Sylvester shouted, his voice raw with shock and betrayal. Amanda jolted away from Chad, scrambling off the bed to cover herself as her face filled with panic. Chad simply stood, unbothered, meeting Sylvester's gaze as though he hadn't just been caught with his best friend's wife.

"Honey, it's not what you think," Amanda stammered, throwing on a robe as she tried to explain.

Sylvester staggered backward, the image searing into his mind. He retreated into the living room, feeling nauseous and lightheaded as he tried to process what he'd just seen.

"Sly, please, it isn't what it looks like!" Amanda followed him, pleading desperately.

Her words only fueled his anger, and he clenched his fists. Does she think I'm an idiot? Or I am blind? he thought, the betrayal sinking in deeper. "Then tell me, Amanda—what does it look like? Because it sure looked like you were screwing my best friend in our bed!" he yelled, his voice cracking with rage.

Amanda flinched. "It was a mistake…"

"A mistake?" Sylvester snapped, cutting her off. "Did you slip and fall on his penis?"

At a loss for words, Amanda looked down, shame washing over her face. Just then, Chad sauntered into the living room, unashamed, wearing only his leather pants. His casual demeanor and muscular frame only made Sylvester's blood boil hotter. So, this is why she betrayed me? he thought bitterly. Because I'll never be like him? Be tall and handsome like him?

"This is why you made me go into work today, isn't it?" Sylvester shouted, turning his fury on Chad. "So you could screw my wife while I handled your case paperwork? The one I solved, but you took credit for?"

"Hey, calm down, dude," Chad said, completely nonchalant. "I was just getting her warmed up for you. If anything, I'm doing you a favor."

"A favor?!" Sylvester's voice trembled as he fought to contain his rage. "You're my friend. I catch you with my wife, and your excuse is that you're doing me a favor? You're a backstabbing bastard!"

Chad smirked, his towering frame casting a shadow over Sylvester. "And what are you gonna do about it?" he taunted. "I can take whatever I want from you, and you won't do a damn thing. I could screw your wife right here in front of you, and you'd still stand there, helpless. I took credit for your case and even got promoted, and you didn't say a word. You know why? Because you're a pathetic doormat."

The insult struck Sylvester like a slap, and he felt a primal fury rising within him. His fists clenched, his heart racing. "Don't ever call me a doormat again!" he seethed, taking a step toward Chad.

Chad exchanged a look with Amanda, and then they both began laughing, the sound cruel and mocking. Sylvester could feel something breaking inside him, a dam holding back years of pent-up frustration, hurt, and resentment. He'd been everyone's punching bag for too long.

Chad grabbed Sylvester by the collar, pulling him off his feet. "You are a doormat. And what are you gonna do about it?"

Sylvester fought to control his anger, aware of the size difference between them. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "You're right," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do anything to you." As he said this, Chad released him with a smug grin, dismissing him as weak and insignificant. Chad and Amanda turned back to each other, laughing again, ignoring Sylvester as if he'd already left.

While they were distracted, Sylvester slipped into the kitchen, his mind racing. He found his old baseball bat, tucked behind the refrigerator, and gripped it tightly, feeling its weight in his hands. He returned to the living room, where Chad was holding Amanda close, clearly ready to go another round.

Sylvester approached Chad from behind and tapped his shoulder. Chad turned, and before he could react, Sylvester swung the bat directly into his groin. Chad crumpled to the floor, gasping in pain.

"Still think I can't do anything, you bastard?" Sylvester yelled, his voice thick with rage. "You call me a doormat? Well, this is what you get!" He raised the bat again and brought it down on Chad's head, then again on his torso, unleashing years of humiliation in a storm of blows.

Amanda, horrified, tried to intervene. "Stop! You're going to kill him!" She grabbed at Sylvester's arm, but his fury was a force she couldn't break through. He pushed her away without a second thought, sending her sprawling to the floor.

Lost in his own anger, Sylvester continued his assault on Chad, each strike dulling his rage only slightly. For the first time in his life, he wasn't standing idly by, taking it. This time, he was letting his anger out, refusing to be powerless.

Eventually, Chad's screams fell silent, and Sylvester's wrath subsided enough for him to notice the grisly scene before him. Blood was spattered everywhere, and Chad lay motionless, his face mangled beyond recognition. Sylvester's hands loosened around the bat, which was now soaked in blood. His heart pounded as the reality sank in: he had just killed his friend.

His thoughts turned to Amanda, who lay nearby, her face pale and her body still. Blood was pooling around her head, trickling slowly across the floor.

"No… no…Fuck!" Sylvester muttered, dropping to his knees beside her. He shook her, desperate for any sign of life, but her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her body unresponsive. A sob escaped him, and he frantically tried to resuscitate her, but his efforts were in vain.

Panic set in as he processed what he'd done. If he called the police, he'd face a murder charge—there was no way any jury would see this as anything other than premeditated. He'd be tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. Running was the only option.

He forced himself to his feet, stumbling to the bathroom to wash his blood-stained hands, his mind whirling. He threw on a gray hoodie and pants, grabbed his passport, some cash, and hurriedly stuffed a few essentials into a bag. He'd be in Canada before the police even found out what happened. As he reached for the door, his mind replayed every brutal moment, the sound of Chad's bones breaking under the bat, the sickening silence that had followed.

What have I become? I killed someone and I liked it, he thought, his hands trembling. I'm a monster. He felt disgusted with himself, but it was too late for regret. He needed to escape.

Sylvester stepped outside and locked the door behind him, squinting into the night as he made his way to the street. He glanced around, hoping to spot a taxi in the distance. But before he could even cross the road, he heard the roar of an engine—a car was speeding toward him.

Before he could react, it struck him with brutal force, sending him sprawling onto the pavement. Sylvester's head hit the asphalt hard, and darkness overtook him. Life as he knew it was over, or so he thought.