Didi
Iwalk into the office, taking a few moments to adjust to the light from outside—the late afternoon rays of sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Can I help you?” I hear a voice through the blinding light, and my eyes finally adjust. A cruel-looking woman sitting behind a mahogany desk is scowling at me.
“I, um… I need to see Professor Crux.”
“Office hours are over.”
I cross my arms. “I’ll only be a minute.”
She huffs, chewing on her pencil, and doesn’t look up. “Take a seat; he’s with someone. If this is about your grade, then you need to talk to the TA.”
I give her a flat stare and can hear Talia scoff in the hallway.
“Thank you,” I say sweetly. “I’ll wait for him.
” I sit on a cracked leather seat and cross my bare legs.
When I glance up, I find she is staring at my legs for longer than what is socially acceptable, then she slowly lifts her head and meets my eyes, and the color in her face drains.
I always wonder what people see in my eyes that scares them so much. Perhaps my serpent is staring back at her instead of me.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
I hold her stare and don’t do my usual eye diversion until she’s uncomfortable enough to have the good sense to look away.
She gathers her belongings and does just that. “Professor Crux should only be a few minutes,” she mumbles, grabbing her coat and shutting the door, leaving just as the professor opens his office door.
He pauses when he sees me, and his eyes glide up to my short skirt and skin I’m showing between my skirt and boots.
He’s a portly fellow, wearing a polyester suit that’s a tad too tight for him and a tie that looks like it is strangling him. He’s middle-aged, his thinning hair parted to the side. “Can I help you?” he asks mildly irritated, glancing at his pocket watch.
He doesn’t recognize me, despite being in his class all semester. I haven’t handed in any assignments or moved from my usual spot in the back.
I let out a deep breath. “My name is Rose. I’m a student in your class.”
He still looks confused but waves me in any way. “Of course. Come in.”
He closes the door behind us, and I sit in the chair across from his desk. My heart pounds a little faster than I’d like.
I adjust my seat and uncross my legs so he can have a better view, before crossing them again, exactly like Talia said.
His eyes twitch, and I wonder how many girls he’s watched like that. He’s a product of this wicked town…fueled by greed, lust, and gluttony. Judging by his size, maybe he’s also a bit slothful, too. Evil runs in his blood. “How can I help you, Rose?”
“I was wondering if there was any way I could get some…private tutoring?”
He coughs and sits back in his chair. “I rarely tutor students at your level.”
My face drops, my eyes hood to the floor. “Oh. It’s just…I really want to major in psychology, and I hear you’re the smartest professor on campus.”
His lips hint at a smile at my attempts at stroking his ego. “What are you struggling with?”
Pride apparently, too.
I can’t look up at him, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor instead. “All of it. The subject material is so fascinating, but complex, and I’m having a hard time with it.”
He takes out a piece of paper and pencil, scribbling something. “Here’s an idea. I can write you a list of tutors, along with the names of the class TAs who can help. Talia Vital’s a bright young lady, and she understands the concepts in this class better than most PhDs.”
Not young enough though, is she?
He scribbles some names on a piece of paper and slides it across his desk. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Rose?”
He motions to leave, and I panic. I’m losing his attention. I chew on my bottom lip and give him my best seductive look, even though I have no idea what that is. He stares at me, frowning, and I uncross and cross my legs again, shifting in my seat.
I glance up at him through my lashes and give him a shy smile. “I think you might be misunderstanding my question.”
He gives me a heated look, and the energy in the room shifts. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood me, Rose.”
My stomach twinges. Talia was so sure he’d go for it. Perhaps he’s different from the other rich and powerful men in this town, taking whatever they want with no repercussions.
Maybe he doesn’t deserve to bleed.
My hand draws down between my legs, just under my skirt, letting out a breathy moan as my fingers connect with my undergarments. I’m surprisingly more turned on than I thought I’d be, but I think it’s because of the thrill of doing something naughty to help Talia.
I bring my finger to my mouth like Talia showed me and bite softly. “I guess I got it wrong… I’m just a silly girl. I’ll go now.”
His hand goes to his mustache as a heady look enters his eyes. I rise and walk to the door, adjusting my skirt.
“Wait,” he says abruptly, and I pause, turning to look at him over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows.
“What is it?” I ask innocently.
“Don’t go yet,” he says carefully.
I turn to face the wall and lean back into it, pressing my chest out. His hands move to his pants, where he touches his growing erection. I keep my eyes on him as he walks toward me, and I lift the hem of my dress to tease him—aware of the knife I have hidden near my thigh.
He steps closer. “What is it you want from me exactly, young lady?”
Young lady. I wish he wouldn’t call me that. Talia was young when she was first taken advantage of, too. “You like them young, don’t you, sir?” His lip snarls in response.
Killing this man will be easy now.
He takes a step closer, then another. And finally, he leans down and puts his hand on my hip. I arch my back and lean into him, and he presses his body into mine; his cock centered into me through his pants.
I try not to vomit as he fondles my breasts above my shirt. “I don’t care about age, as long as they’re perky,” he says, cupping my breasts, assessing whether I’m worthy. I try not to vomit at the smell of his rancid breath. I stall by lifting my neck while he fumbles with his zipper.
“Do you like to suck cock, little girl?” He grabs me and twists me around, pressing his sweaty body over mine as he lifts my skirt. “Or should we do it quick and dirty from behind, like the little slut you are?”
I panic, the air shifting out of my lungs. If he finds my knife, this is over.
I turn to face him, grabbing him by the shirt. He moans as my lips find his, and as soon as my hands contact my knife, I pull it out, twist it in his side, and bite down on his lip so hard it bleeds. Not to kill him—at least not yet. But that will do some damage.
His eyes bulge, and I dig the tip in further and watch as a trickle of blood hits the ground. “If you move even an inch, your insides will fall out.”
Talia opens the door and snakes inside the room, her presence catching his attention. She is unrecognizable wearing a burlap mask but makes no attempt at hiding herself otherwise in her short skirt and knee-high boots. Her hair, however, is pulled back.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demands. “There is security in this building. I will have you two arrested.”
I keep my eyes on him as I twist the knife further, and his body goes wholly still. “Don’t speak, or I will gut you like a pig.”
He looks at Talia, then at the door, probably figuring he can overpower us given our size, and swallows hard. “What do you want?”
I give him a sexy smile and can feel the coppery taste of his blood in my mouth. “One more twist, and I will get a major organ. You don’t want that, now do you, Professor Crux?”
Talia tilts her head and stares at him through the slits. The motion is enough to put the fear of God into his eyes. She doesn’t say anything as she walks to his desk. “Open the safe,” I tell him.
“I can’t do that,” he says. “That book belongs to this university.”
I twist the knife, and he screams in agony, falling to the ground, blood pooling out of him.
Talia tilts her head. “Do it, or we kill you.” Talia’s voice is almost unrecognizable.
“You’re not going to get away with this,” he growls, crawling to his desk, leaving a trail of blood behind him. I step toward the door, effectively blocking him in.
He opens the safe hastily and tosses the book onto the floor before withering in pain. Talia wastes no time; she grabs it and tucks it in her arms.
I lean back against the wall, adjusting my skirt and smoothing my panties, playing with the tip of my bloody knife while watching him. I take a moment to decide if I want to hurt him more or let him live through this.
His voice is shaky. “Please don’t kill me. I have a family…children.”
I walk toward his desk and pick up a picture of his family. His children look happy. His wife, however, has sad eyes—probably because she knows her husband is sick. “Do they know what kind of monster you are? How many people have you killed, Professor Crux?”
His brows arch and Talia laughs. “You think we don’t know where you got the money for that Bentley?”
My eyes flash, and I pull off my wig, letting my natural hair cascade down to my shoulders. Still shaking, his face flashes with recognition as he watches me in horror.
He’s heard stories about me and my rumored resurrection.
He’s still lying on the floor in a bloody heap. I step over his face and peer down at this cowardly man, making sure he sees the whites of my eyes. “Do you know who I am?” I ask casually.
He peers up at me through his glasses and nods, and a puddle of urine forms between his legs. “Y-yes,” he chokes out.
The girl with white hair.
I bend down so I am eye level with him. “If you tell anyone about this, then the pain I will put you through will be the most agonizing hell you’ve ever experienced. And if you touch another girl again, I will slit your throat.”
Talia lifts her gaze from the book and tilts her head as she beholds him, as if just noticing his sordid state.
Her evil energy radiates through the mask.
She steps beside me, and we hover over him.
“Tell everyone you know, the real Shadowface is back and hell will rain fury on Kinsmen.” She grabs the knife from my hand, leans down, and slices him right down his shirt, cutting it open until she gets to his nether regions.
He’s trembling as she watches him. “Take it out,” she orders.
“No, please,” he begs. “I won’t tell a soul—”
She shoves the tip of his knife into his stomach, forcing him to pull out his now limp cock. She reaches down and grabs it, stroking it until it goes hard. “You like that?” she whispers. “You like fucking young girls when you’re a married man?”
“No…I—”
“Admit it,” she screams.
“Yes.” He leans back on his arms and closes his eyes. “I like it.” She continues to work him, stroking him with her delicate hands. Then, right before he comes, he screams in utter agony.