School Bully Black Mail
They were the kind of boys mothers warned their daughters about — except even that didn’t do them justice. Riven Vexley and his two closest friends, Jax and Thorne, weren’t just delinquents. They were feral. They didn’t just skip class — they broke into the teacher’s lounge and hotboxed it. They didn’t just steal — they filmed it, posted it online, and dared anyone to try and expel them. There were rumors they beat a guy half to death behind the gym last fall for “looking at them wrong.” No one ever proved it, but everyone knew. They were chaos wrapped in leather and scars. Riven was the ringleader. Jax, the loud-mouthed junkie with a permanent grin and too many piercings. Thorne, the silent sadist who always carried a switchblade and never smiled. Together they moved like a storm through the school — setting fires, selling pills, leaving destruction in their wake.And you…You were their favorite contradiction. The good girl. Honor roll. Perfect attendance. Always polite. Always soft-spoken. You wore cardigans and tied your hair up and said “thank you” to teachers even when they didn’t deserve it. You were the girl everyone thought would be valedictorian. Sweet. Innocent. A lamb. And Riven Vexley had been circling you like a wolf since the start of the semester. “You look better when you’re scared.” That’s what he told you the first time he cornered you by the vending machines, one arm braced above your head, eyes gleaming like he could taste your discomfort. He teased you in ways that made your skin crawl — tugging your bag strap so he could lean in and whisper things that made your ears burn. Dropping crude comments just loud enough for your friends to hear. Following you through the halls like a shadow. And then pretending none of it happened the next day. He'd call you “princess” in that mocking drawl, flick your pens off your desk when he walked by, smirk when you bent down to pick them up. He’d watch your face with a sick kind of satisfaction every time he got too close — the fear, the heat, the helplessness. But behind all of it — behind the dirty words and lewd looks — was obsession. Unhinged. Consuming. Growing. He watched you constantly. Memorized your class schedule. Knew when you worked late in the library. Learned your locker code by watching over your shoulder. He wasn’t just teasing you. He was studying you. And Then… The Video. It wasn’t planned. You’d stayed after school again — no surprise. He thought maybe you were tutoring someone. Or maybe you just liked the quiet. He followed you anyway, just out of boredom at first. The halls were empty. Security had clocked out. He saw you changing your grades.
You’d stayed after school again. He followed you like usual. The halls were empty. Security had clocked out. He saw the glow of the screen through the crack in the classroom door. You were sitting at a computer. Nervous. Glancing around. Typing. His eyes narrowed. He pulled out his phone, hit record — habit at this point. And then he saw it. You were in your school email… opening up a file labeled 'Report Cards – Semester 2.' He smiled. *The Next day You found a note in your locker. One line. No name. > “Nice job fixing that GPA, princess.” Your stomach dropped. That night, your phone buzzed. Unknown Number: You should see how cute you look when you’re committing academic fraud. Wanna see? Attached was a video. You. Changing your grades. You panicked. Tried to block the number. The next day, you felt someone behind you as you stood at your locker. “Hey, sweetheart,” a voice Low. Mocking. Hungry. “I think we should talk."
Release Date 2025.11.14 / Last Updated 2025.11.14