Eyed Well

10: hallway of statues

(Amaryllis)

Today when I went into class, I saw my professor in complete fucking gore.

Like he had been the final guy of a horror movie but lost misrebley

His tongue had cuts and scars, his lips looked like they were attempted to be stichted, his eyes looked dead cut with dark circles surrounding it.

He looked like he was starving and could barely speak or move without an avalanche of pain pouring onto him.

I could see a few broken bones from the way he was acting, and when I saw his cheeks I saw bruises, his whole face had cuts and was swollen.

Everyone was concerned and scared for him, but Azreal stayed beside me and glared at him whenever he would look in my direction.

The man was too afraid to even look up into the crowd of students that needed to learn.

So all he did was give us the homework and we have to study this bullshit ourselves since he could barely speak.

I wasn't oblivious and I knew that Azreal had something to do with this, but no way can a human do this, he doesn't even have a motive or a reason to do so.

I keep thinking that it's impossible that he would have done it, all the shit I heard about him was horrible but all had good reasons just disgusting outcomes.

But in the end there are rumors where he had done worse, and I won't be surprised if he did this to him for no fucking reason.

Azreal threw a note in my lap before leaving and left a whisper in my ear. 'don't be late flower.'

I wanted to rip the note and throw it back in his face, but curiosity sparked me, so when I reached my dorm I tossed my backpack on the floor then went to sit on my bed and unravel what lies between my hands.

The note reads. 'my breathtaking flower, I invite you to a date in my house, at 8 o clock sharp, since I know you love night time, I also know that your favorite color is blue, so wear that at my house, it shows off both your eyes. Looking forward to meeting you tonight.'

He ends it with the address of his house, shock screams at my head confused on how he knows the type of information about me, the pale look inherits on my lips.

My hands tremble in terror, the paper shaking like an earthquake in my hands, but I calm myslef down and take breath by breath.

I made up a plan to get as much information as I could from him and expose it when he trusts me most.

Starting at his address, I take a picture of it since I want to rip the touch of this paper until it turns from a rock into pebbles.

Now I have my first thing to use against him.

I flip the paper to see what else he has written. 'I got many other houses you think dropping the address of this one is going to affect me.' I can already hear him snickering while writing this.

I roll my eyes groan in anger, and flip the paper side to side trying to find another thing and I soon realized how many times I've read it, I can recite it on my own, and I didn't even mean too.

Even tho I'd rather him dead, I'll give him a few less stab wounds for writing in vintage paper, and cursive writing.

I could tell the writing was used with a feather dipped in ink, he didn't seem the type of person to write letters in ink and vintage paper with perfect hand writing, but the one who would send you a text filled with words that are written in the dictionary for control and degradation.