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Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain Novel Cover

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 4

Julian ordered the guards to take Kamari to the infirmary for basic bandaging. He immediately headed to the Headmaster's office.

He threw open the heavy wooden doors and went straight to the filing cabinets. He ripped out the student housing ledger and flipped through the thick parchment pages.

He found Kamari's name.

Servant Quarters. Sub-basement Three. Storage Room 4.

Julian's jaw clenched. He knew the book said Kamari lived in squalor, but seeing it on official paper made his skin crawl.

He left the office and walked down the spiraling stone stairs. The air grew colder with every floor. By the time he reached Sub-basement Three, the smell of mildew and raw sewage hit him like a physical wall.

Julian covered his nose with his sleeve. He walked down the narrow, dripping hallway and kicked open the rotting wooden door of Room 4.

There was no window. Water dripped from the ceiling into a rusted bucket. A single wooden plank covered in moldy straw sat in the corner. This was where the protagonist slept.

Heavy footsteps slapped against the wet stone behind him. The fat dorm manager came running, wiping his sweaty hands on his apron.

"H-Headmaster?" the manager stuttered. "What are you doing down in the muck?"

Julian turned slowly. He let the fury he felt for the original Benedict bleed into his eyes. He pointed at the wet straw. "This is where you put a special-admissions student?"

The manager recoiled. "But... but you ordered it last month, sir! You said to break his spirit!"

Julian swallowed the bile in his throat. He had to spin this.

"I told you to break his spirit," Julian hissed, stepping into the man's personal space. "I didn't tell you to drag the academy's reputation through the mud! If the outside world finds out we treat a Seraf-Kin like a stray dog, the Board will have my head. And I will have yours."

The manager's knees gave out. He dropped to the wet floor. "Forgive me! I misunderstood!"

"Pack his things," Julian ordered.

The manager scrambled into the room. He came out holding a single, frayed cloth sack. That was everything Kamari owned.

Julian snatched the bag, cast a quick cleaning spell over it to kill the smell, and walked away.

An hour later, the guards dragged a heavily bandaged Kamari up the stairs to the Headmaster's private obsidian tower.

They pushed open the heavy violet-and-gold doors. The suite was massive. Velvet rugs covered the floor. A massive fire roared in the hearth, throwing warm light across the room.

The guards gently placed Kamari on the huge, feather-covered bed.

The second Kamari's back hit the soft mattress, he violently recoiled. He scrambled backward until his spine hit the headboard, pulling his knees to his chest. He looked around the room like a trapped animal.

Julian sat in a single leather armchair across the room. He held a crystal glass of red wine. He kept his distance.

"You live here now," Julian said flatly.

Kamari's eyes darted from the roaring fire to the velvet curtains, then finally to Julian. His jaw ticked. A cold, mocking smile twisted his lips.

"What's wrong?" Kamari rasped. "Did the smell of the basement ruin your appetite for torture?"

Julian gripped the wine glass.

"So you brought me to a cleaner cage," Kamari continued, his voice dripping with venom. "What's the new game, Benedict?"

Julian wanted to scream that he was trying to give him a warm place to sleep. Instead, he took a slow sip of his wine.

"Think whatever you want," Julian said coldly. "But if you step one foot out of those doors without my permission, I will break both your legs."

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