Teacher's Secrets

Serial Story(Jack)

I went back to the band three days later. It was Halloween. Mark had taken my usual attire as his costume, so I took his uniform. I walked into the classroom, and all the kids had some or other costume.

Gar was Papyrus carying a little Sans doll, there was also a mummy, and what seemed to be a werewolf, Wade was the chi,cken from Ultimate Chicken Horse, Bob was also a cop, and there was a giraffe, along with others. They were all good costumes.

And then there was Patrick. Id ask him what his costume was later. He was covered in fake blood, with a plastic dagger, and an empty white bottle.

"Mr. McLoughlin, are you your husband? Also welcome back!"

"Thank you." I responded in an American accent. "And yes, I am Mark Fischbach, LAPD. Dont cross me today." I winked.

The class laughed.

"You all have wonderful costumes. But Patrick, what the hell are you?"

"Serial killer." He smiled evily.

"Any particular one?"

He looked straight at me, face done up in contouring makeup, and held up the bottle, labled with a red cross. I knew who he was before he said it. "I'm the Lacerator!"

I grew dizzy, and a mumble escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Not again... please no... you're in prison."

"Mr. McLoughlin? What? Did you say something?"

"Its a very realistic costume Patrick." I gasped. "A litle too much."

"What do you mean?"

"Go into my office and please, take it off." I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sides of my music stand. They dug into my palms but I didn't care.

"What?" He stood indignantly. "That's not fair!"

"Please take it off, and meet me in my office. I'll explain, I promise." I struggled to keep calm.

"No! Why can't I wear my costume?"

"Do as I said!" I snapped, slamming a fist onto my music stand.

Patrick ran into my office as I tried to hold back tears.

"I apologise..." I mumbled, forcing myself to relax. "I shouldn't have yelled like that. I'll be right back."

I vanished into my office, and Patrick pulled on his band sweater, wiping the makeup off his face with guess what, an alcohol wipe.

"Im really fuckin sorry I yelled, Patrick." I sighed.

"What did I do...?" He looked at me sadly.

"Come out." I opened my office door. "I didn't ever want have to tell you this, but it's probably best I explain to the whole class."

"O-okay..." Pat followed me out, and I went to my chair.

"Everybody put your instruments down." I sighed.

They did.

"When I was gone for a while, it was because of the Lacerator." I began shakily.

"Why?" Gar asked.

"Shut up and let him talk, Gar." Wade nudged him.

I struggled to remain attached to my own mind ad prepared relive the last year. "I should probably start from the beginning. Right before I left for Ireland, Mark told me he'd been appointed to head the Lacerator case..."