The Dean of the School for Evil

Part 3

The rules are very simple. The rules for the game with no rules. The best man wins. But what was the best man, first of all the word man is an outrage. The real rule is "The Smartest one holds the power" that smarts of man created the phrase "the best man wins", so as to keep his adversaries playing fair like losers and to keep women out of the competition from the beginning of times. In my head there were only 2 possible responses, that phrase was either the making of an arrogant but smart man or by an even smarter woman. See if they think they are the only ones in the race we fly under the radar and cut their achilles heel before the finishing line without running out of breath or getting dirt on our shoes. Either way, the work of a genius.

I refused to wear anything but a gown and heels during the daytime. As long as there were eyes open I should be the most harmless of donzels. Women were greeted with a gift from the Gods you see, they were given the gift of being underrated counting on nothing but their physical appearance, which if played with grace could make the world bow down to their knees. I want every threat this school has ever had or ever will have to look at me, the chief of defence, and see nothing but a pretty girl in a nice dress and heels too uncomfortable to run in. I want them to track down the school and see nothing but stupid weak fairies keeping track of every suspicious move. I want them to look at our security and laugh. I want them to get arrogant, cocky, so cocky they will think they are unbeatable. Arrogant people make stupid mistakes and stupid mistakes gets you killed, in the most delightful way, because stupid arrogant people never see their downfall coming, and it's always so poetic. Plus... their faces... marked with confusion. My lips rose into a half smile and my heart started to beat fast, warming my chest to the feeling.

I finished strapping on my belt with my different weapons,as much as I could carry without slowing me down or making me too loud. Only last resources, after all I could summon everything else. In the day I might be a princess but at night I was a true killer designed for nothing but. Oh and the painful days made the gruesome nights so much sweeter. I put on my cape.

Suddenly something flashes before my eyes and a light migraine, like a pinch, passes me by at the speed of light itself. My wicked smile fades and I stay in high alert for any clues to my sudden unexpected reaction. Suspicion started to rise in me. It might be that this was a new place and that made my senses fire up but there was something else. I felt it when I arrived and I felt it everytime my mind didn't drift my attention away.

I had a light suspicion so I raised my sleeve to reveal an intrigued tattoo, made of a bunch or intertwined celtic symbols with meanings hidden to everyone but me and the witches that made them.

One of the symbols was blood red, shedding a line of blood that dropped on the floor, that one in specific represented my thoughts or dreams. For it to be spilling blood with no cut it meant that my thoughts weren't safe, they are being either mislead or listened to.

I stormed to the windows where I found nothing but the empty darkness and solitude, my attention shifted to the door that I opened violently with a flick of my hand, no one to be seen.

Reading thoughts from far away was a special skill that required even the most gifted ones a lot of mastery. I grabbed one of my knives from its holder on my belt and without a second thought I carved a curse on my own arm about the bleeding circle.

"Maledicere qui audiunt" I said grunting from the pain of the cold steel.

The pain it caused me was merely temporary and it was gone alone with the carvings on my arm and the blood from the symbol in my arm within seconds. The person who was eavesdropping had however no such luck, I could imagine now the screams of the poor bastard.

The blood that was running down my arm was already dry, and the scars of my little intervention healed but the blood that had dripped down on the floor was still fresh. I leaned down and ran my fingers through it, collecting it in a makeshift bowl with my hands. Then I walked to the wall and started using it as paint to draw. I started making symbols near my bed and on the four corners of the bedroom. After I was done I whispered a song and my blood that was used as ink started consuming itself with flames and the wall ate the symbols leaving nothing but the negative space of each letter outlined by the smoke marks on the wall. This bedroom was now a safe room for thoughts so none were to arise outside of it.

For prevention I grabbed my bag and laid it down on my bed. I opened it and took out a little wooden box I shuffled around in it looking for something specific, instead I pulled out a little card with a note.

To my dear little foundling

Love Evelyn

Even far away she still takes care of me. Such a bittersweet feeling, makes me smile and my heart ache at the same time. I kissed it then held it against my chest for a few seconds, before I laid it down on the bed and read the inscriptions on some of the items. I grabbed a necklace and tried to put it on struggling a bit.

While I was trying to put it on, a couple of hands grabbed it from mine, startling me.

"No, I got it" said the low sensual voice behind me.

I left the fucking door open, it was so stupid. Stupid mistakes get people killed. She put on the necklace with ease and then turned me around and grabbed it examining it, leaning the back of her warm hand against my cleavage. I felt my heart race and probably so did she.

"All geared up for the first day aren't we?" she said, lifting her eyes to look me deep down into my soul, making me tremble. She let go of the necklace and laid her palm on my cleavage feeling my heartbeat, I thought I was going to pass out and die on the stop "Nervous?" she said suggestively with a smirk.

I grabbed her wrist firmly trying to make her let go of me. She laughed at the attempt. How was she so inhumanly strong? I was in shock. She eventually let go of me and approached the bed.

"How disappointed" she said, referring to my sad attempt to remove her from me, then locked her eyes on my box which I instantly closed and packed away, making her chuckle.

"Such a cute little nervous witch we have here..." she said.

"I'm not a witch" I said firmly, threateningly, insulted by her mislabelling of my place in the community, undervaluing my duties.

"No, you're just the witch's hound, tell me do they command you to sit down and be quiet or can you reach that conclusion all on your own?" she said, taking pleasure in causing emotional pain, but I didn't give her the satisfaction of showing it, running her fingers down my bed looking through the rest of my stuff. Her fingers finally reached my card and she grabbed it and read it. "Love... Evilyn'' she said with a weird tone which I couldn't quite decipher. Was it jealousy? No, it couldn't be.

She threw away the paper that I grabbed from the floor with care and made a nauseated eye roll to my attachment to it.