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Chapter I
"You killed my child!"
The clack of her heels echoed against the tiled floors as she swept her brunette locks back and removed her glasses. Madam Primrose Sharpe flinched at a shriek piercing the air, loud enough to reverberate through the school's corridors.
Despite ongoing classes, teachers and students alike had spilled out of their classrooms, drawn to the unfolding drama in the Teacher's Staffroom. A woman, clad in worn-out attire and clutching a counterfeit Chanel bag, had seized a teacher by the collar, spewing unintelligible words laced with curses. Accusations tumbled from her lips like confetti at a carnival, but there was no celebration here, only a profound, devastating sorrow.
A wealthy mother, her ambitions as vast as her bank account, had bribed the teacher to shuffle the rankings. She pushed the poor mother's child from 49th to 51st place, turning a beloved child into a failure, or so was for him. The result? Tragedy, as the poor mother's child, overcome by darkness, took his own life.
The mother's voice was a heart-wrenching cacophony of despair, her words imbued with a pain that resonated throughout the room. Her voice carried a sorrow so profound it could soften the hardest of hearts. She gripped the teacher, her hold desperate, as if trying to anchor herself in a world that had just shattered under her feet.
"Ma'am, please understand," the teacher said, prying her hands from his collar and stepping back, his tone detached, "The ranking system has not been compromised. The school cannot be held accountable for your child's shortcomings."
Her face ablaze with indignation, the woman lunged forward, her voice trembling with torment, "How dare you fucking deceive me! You've been bought by that vile Mrs. Sharpe. You demoted my child from 49th to 51st, dismissing it as a grading error!"
"My son... his aspirations were boundless, enough to propel a rocket. He endured the bullying, the scornful remarks, all for a chance at the Ivy League. And now... he's gone. Lifeless, I cradled him in my arms. My child. My heart. My entire world," she wept, the onlookers filled with pity yet powerless.
"I'll make you pay! You and that bitch, Sharpe!" she declared, drawing a knife from her purse. The teacher recoiled, stammering, "What... what are you doing?"
"One should never slander another in their absence, Mrs. Mishra," Primrose interjected, entering the staffroom with a self-satisfied smirk. She embodied malevolence, devoid of any remorse towards others if it meant her child's triumph.
With just a movement of her fingers, bodyguards swept in and disarmed Mrs. Mishra. The mother, wailing in pain, kicked her feet in the air to no avail. The guards escorted her out, and Mrs. Sharpe made her way toward the teacher. With fake gratitude dripping from her voice, she said, "Thank you, sir. Your assistance was much appreciated," as she handed him an envelope bursting with cash. The two of them exchanged despicable smirks like they've achieved something great.
Evil always triumphed at Aureus. The good were mere prey. But what they didn't expect was for W, the school's ultimate punisher, to have a grand finale in mind. When the teacher was in the classroom, unaware of what was to happen, in the blink of an eye, the staff room burst into flames, and the teacher's cries resonated with the same intensity as the mother's.
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Heirs Of Aurous
Humor❝ They say, who loves first, falls hardest, but what if this story is she fell first, he fell harder. ❞ Truths hurt, lies are a blasphemy in a relationship. But have you ever felt it? When everything feels like they're infinitely stretching your sou...
