Who Is Logan Reed?

Victim 3

Me and Tiffany take our seats in the small english class in the middle of the class. According to her all the pot heads sit in the very back and the nerds are in the very fount. 

I go along with her childish assumptions because it amuses me how such a small school could be intensely divided. Human behavior baffles me.

We all are constructed of the same organs, basic features and needs. Yet we are quick to compare and judge other based off your selfs. 

All I see is humans, I can imagine their hearts pumping blood through the thick veins. Their lungs expanding with the air, their morning breakfast churning in the stomach and traveling to their intestines. 

But I can not fathom what is coursing through their minds. What are they thinking? Dreaming? Feeling? Wishing? All i know about the human brain is what I’ve learned form phycology books. 

I jolt in my seat as a stack of books smack into the desk next to me. And there stands the “bad ass of the school” Mykel Smith with a smirk on his smug face. I wonder what he's doing in AP english, surly he wont pass since he spends most of his time sitting in a jail cell. 

Idiot, if your going to do something attempt to be smart about it.

“Did I scare you Reed?” he asks. 

I respond with the roll of my eye knowing answering him will only play into his game. If only he knew what games I have planned for him running through my mind. Surly no one would miss the punk. 

Logan thats to risky. Think! Two missing people form the same school, the police could catch on to something. My subconscious reminds me. 

“You gonna answer me Reed?” Mykel says placing one hand on my chair and the other on my desk. He thinks he's got me trapped but the idiot left his most venerable organ unprotected and his weight in supported on his left hand. One swipe to his wrist and his mandible would contact with the desk and he could possibly bite off his own tongue. 

If we get lucky. 

I could see the bastard now wailing in pain and his eyes blazing with embarrassment.

“I think class is starting” I say in a condescending tone as I smile up at him. 

Right on cue the substitute teacher walks in and the sets down his briefcase and Mykel puff as he slouches in his seat. 

“Hello students, I am Collin Stanford but call me Mr.S for now Im substituting for Mr.Brigs while he is gone” 

“Do you know what happened to him?” A hand shoots up in the front form one of the “nerds”

“Sorry but they did not tell me” he states. His hand travels into his pocket and slightly sways on his feet. He’s lying. The police have found Mr.Brigs. 

Dead and cold. 

Dang they are getting faster. I can imagine their faces when they found Mr.Brigs, sitting in his living room recliner holding a knife and a scale measuring exactly 30 pounds of pure fat. Its a shame Mr.Brigs didn't live to see the final result of his transformation he did such an excellent job removing the last 10 pounds on his own before he fainted.

“What is he like dead or something?” Mykel blurts out next to me. 

I stifle a laugh as the class fills with chatter about the possibilities of Mr.Brigs whereabouts. The class erupts into a full debate when I notice a draft in the room. Others continue to argue but I am focused on the almost invisible young man who managed to go unnoticed while taking his seat in the far corner.

Never once did he look up.

He slithered into his seat and delicately set his book neatly in the top right corner of his desk. He then opened a small book on stem cells and began moving his lips. 

I strained my eyes and focused on the pattern his lips were creating. A shiver over came my body as I read his lips. 

“I know your watching” he mouthed never looking up.

A foreign wave struck me. 

I feel pure fear.  

I got chills writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy. Im not sure when Im planning on updating yet but probly sometime this week. I am so excited for this i dont think yall undestand. Anyway thanks for reading and remeber to vote and comment.

M.B<3