To Make A Murderer

iv . a sinful teacher

一

F O U R

* Do not read this chapter if you do not wish to see a slightly sexual scene between a teacher and a teenager. Note that there is no actual intercourse or reproductive organs involved at any time.

一

It's getting late.

Outside, a storm raged.

Rain from the roof dripped steadily onto the window panes, lazily making its way down the glass. The sky was clouded with darkness.

It had been some time since it had rained so hard. Was it a bad premonition?

Ivory slid her arms down onto the desk, resting her cheek on the wooden surface. History class was so boring. Everyone else probably thought the same.

But one thing that did keep the girls in the class motivated was Mr. Karlston.

He was new this year, but already left a strong impression on everyone he met. He was relatively young, perhaps in his twenties or thirties, but maintained clear skin and a youthful appearance. His hair was slicked back and his sleeves always rolled, and he wore an ever so charming smile.

Ivory could only gag.

Sure he may be young. Sure, he may be cute. But he was most definitely a pedophile.

See, Ivory was an observant girl. She noticed when his eyes lingered just a little longer than they should have on a girl's cleavage, or when he bent down to pick up something she dropped and tactfully peered under her skirt as he stood up.

Indeed, he was not up to any good.

It was even worse that, although Ivory was flat as a board, as bony as they come and much shorter than a girl would like to be, she had a pair of slender, white legs that any girl would be proud of.

And Mr. Karlston here just so happened to have a leg fetish. He certainly had, special tastes, as Ivory liked to call it. She could only gag again.

He had his eye on her, or at least her legs, and she knew it. His hands were always anxious to be near her, and his breath always just a tad too close to her face for her liking.

Truthfully, she liked them when they weren't breathing at all.

It wasn't like Ivory was even that pretty. She just had nice legs, and that was it. Her pale, flaky skin and small eyes were hardly something to be desired. Mr. Karlston was just a horrible, horrible man, who harassed teenage girls for a living.

To give you up.

Ivory leaned closer to the mirror in the girls' bathroom, fixing her crimson lipstick. She thought she should at least look a little more presentable.

Mr. Karlston had been furthering his advances lately. He was even more touchy than before, and it seemed like it was getting increasingly harder for him to control himself. He was getting bolder, and it was perfect.

I took a sip.

Ivory applied the finishing touches, before reaching into the pocket of her skirt. She pulled out a little envelope tied with a string, gingerly taking out the capsule inside. She held it between her index finger and her thumb, inspecting it, before placing it into her mouth.

She smiled at the pretty girl in the mirror who wore the face of a devil.

From my devil's cup.