text: Some time ago, a new boy arrived at the school. As was the custom with all newcomers, the school bully approached him. He was a skinny boy, with brown-rimmed glasses, somewhat disheveled hair, and loose clothing: the perfect target. Not only for Thomas, the biggest bully in school, but also for everyone else. Thomas stood in front of him, arms folded and a crooked smile on his face. The new boy stared at him for a long moment, saying nothing, until Thomas took his arm in one of his huge hands. "I'll explain how things work around here, new," he said. "You give me part of your money, I protect you." The new boy didn't say anything, just stared at him. By that time, we were all watching the situation closely. Many smiled, complicit; others were scared; some rolled their eyes, knowing how it would all end: no matter how much the new guy refused at first, he would end up giving the bully money. However, to everyone's surprise, the new boy disappeared. Thomas's fingers, which had been holding the boy's skinny arm, were left holding the very air. The bully looked everywhere, not understanding what was happening. "What--?!" he started to scream, but was interrupted by a loud crack. Immediately afterwards, and to the astonishment of the entire school, a metallic contraption appeared around Thomas. It looked like a cage, only one side was not made of bars, but a smooth metal plate. Thomas had been hooked to the metal at the wrists and ankles, through metal handcuffs that protruded from the bars opposite the plate. From one of the corners of the apparatus stick out a gigantic drill, which was pointed directly at Thomas's chest. The bully tried to get free, without any success. Many of us, including me, came to take a closer look at the device. One of the girls screamed, discovering that the new boy's face was etched into the metal plate: his face was very clear, sticking out of the metal, his eyes closed. A new crack startled us all, causing us to walk away. The drill turned on and began to slowly approach Thomas. The sharp point aiming straight into the middle of his chest... into his heart. Thomas began to yell and move more, desperate to get away. Many started laughing, others just stared, a couple ran outside to call the teachers. I, for my part, began to walk around the device to see how it was set up and if there was any way to turn off the drill. Thomas was a bully, I myself had been bullied by him for years, but that didn't mean I wanted him to get hurt. Or dead... because if that drill reached his chest, it would kill him, that was for sure. A couple of teachers showed up within a few minutes. Some of the boys began to yell, joining in on Thomas's yelling. "Professor," I said, moving closer to one of them, "I think if we unscrew those things, we can get him out." I pointed out some gigantic screws, metallic like the rest of the structure, that protruded from it and seemed to keep it assembled. The professor looked at me, then looked at the structure and nodded. “I'll get some screwdrivers,” he said, and ran off. As we waited, we all watched in horror as the drill moved closer and closer to Thomas's body. The bully was still squirming, and he had started sobbing like a baby. Many guys laughed at this. Most of us, however, were now more concerned than amused. The new boy's face was still there, in the metallic silver, impassive and with his eyes closed, as if he were a punishing god. The drill was already halfway through when the professor arrived with the screwdrivers. I took one. Several more took others. All together we began to try to remove the screws. They were so big and so locked that it took incredible force to move them even an inch. The vibration of the drill and Thomas's crying and struggling were not helping the overall situation. “Thomas,” the professor said at one point, “we need you to calm down. We'll get you out of there, don't worry. But please don't move." The bully nodded. Tears streamed down his face and he kept his eyes closed, so he wouldn't look at the drill. The screw that I was removing was halfway. The drill was several inches from Thomas's body and for a moment I panicked. What would happen if we didn't get it out in time? What explanation would we give? It would be a disaster, that's for sure. Not just for Thomas's family and the school, but for everyone. I couldn't even imagine what it must be like to watch someone get pierced by a screw spinning at full speed. The entire hallway would be drenched in blood and... other things I didn't even want to think about. I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away, and turned my attention back to the screw. I twisted and pulled with all the strength I had, causing the screw to come out a little more. At that moment, one of the teachers managed to remove one of the screws, which fell to the floor with a metallic noise that startled us all. The other teacher was already close to removing another. I was in the middle, and the other boys were in situations similar to mine. But Thomas didn’t have that much time. The drill was dangerously close to his body, to his chest. When the second screw fell, both teachers began to help with the others. Thomas's eyes narrowed, and seeing how close he was to death, he gave a desperate squeal and began to move in all directions. "Thomas, calm down!" yelled one of the teachers. The third and fourth screws fell to the ground. There were only two left. One of them, mine. The teachers went to help, as well as the other boys. The bully's scream filled the hallway, the drill was very close. The fifth screw fell. Thomas was still yelling. The drill seemed to be already touching the leather jacket he was wearing. The professor and I gave the last pull; the sixth and final screw fell to the floor. The metal holding Thomas in place split open and he fell to his knees, shivering. He covered his face with his hands and began to cry again. The teachers went to help him. Almost automatically, I looked at the drill: it had stopped. The teachers helped the bully to his feet and took him away, trying to calm him down. The rest of us stayed and watched the device, which began to vanish into thin air, as mysteriously as it had appeared. No one ever saw the new guy again. Nobody even remembers his name, if he ever said it. The teachers don't know who he was...apparently there was no transfer scheduled for that day. Thomas is no longer a bully.