Chapter 29: Dark Side

~“When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it’s where my demons hide. Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside, it’s where my demons hide.”—Imagine Dragons.~

Chapter Theme Song: “Demons” by Imagine Dragons.

BLAZE

The sun is setting, and the teachers have all cleared out of the staffroom. The hairpin that the girl gave me earlier proves useful again. The large doors leading to the lecturers’ quarters are locked from the inside.

If I hadn’t spotted the creep’s red Jeep in the parking lot, I would have assumed he’d already left. The room is eerily quiet and dark.

As I step inside, I see a faint yellow glow seeping through the narrow cracks at the top of his office door.

I know he’s the type of teacher who stays late to grade papers. Maybe he’s not happy at home, which is why he targets young girls. Pathetic bastard.

He’s shutting down his computer when the office door creaks open. He turns to see me leaning against the door frame, hands tucked in my pockets.

I know I look like the sociopath I am, and his terrified expression confirms it.

“Good evening, Mr. Jones.”

His face goes pale, eyes wide as he takes in my calm demeanor.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. I just think it’s rude to leave before we’ve finished our game.”

My voice is low and steady, but it’s enough to scare him. His shaking hands are proof.

“I will—!”

“Report me?” I raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t you already do that?”

He reaches for his phone, but I grab his wrist, twisting it painfully. He cries out as the phone crashes onto his desk.

His pain feeds my sadistic side.

“Ahhhh! L-let go of my arm.”

I twist his wrist harder, hearing his bones crack under my grip. He buckles in pain.

“Ahh! Shit! You’re breaking my hand...let it go!”

I spot a family photo on his desk. I pick it up, inspecting it with my free hand.

“It’s sad that your wife and kid don’t know their husband and father is a pedophile who preys on his students.

“You know who I can’t stand? People who pretend to be innocent. I’m an asshole, Mr. Jones, and I don’t hide it. But you? You’re so fake it makes me sick.

“What if your family found out what you do in your free time? How would they feel?

“I’m not great with emotions, but maybe they’d feel...disgust? Or shame?”

He glares at me, a mix of fear and anger on his face. I put the photo back and let go of his wrist. He clutches it, wincing in pain.

I pull my knife from my back pocket. His eyes widen in terror.

“Why do you still have a knife? D-didn’t I report you for—”

“When the chairman is your uncle, you can get away with a lot, Mr. Jones. Do you know what else I’ll get away with? Slitting your throat.”

“You won’t get away with that!” he yelps, backing up until he’s trapped against his desk. “You won’t—”

I swipe the blade across his face. He cries out, clutching the wound as blood seeps through his fingers. He stares at me in shock, and I smile. Did he think I was bluffing?

I grab his throat, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp for air.

I hold the knife to his neck, and he shuts up, crying and shaking under my gaze. The urge to kill him is strong. I trace the blade along his neck.

“Mr. Jones. I can slit your throat and get away with it. Do you know why?”

He blinks through his tears.

“Because I’m what people call a sociopath.”

His eyes go even wider. He looks like a scared owl, and I laugh at his pathetic reaction.

“Yeah...I’m actually medically diagnosed. I’m not making this up.”

“R-release me!”

“I could easily slit your throat, and even if I get caught, all I’d need is a good lawyer. Once they find out I have sociopathy, ASPD, and mild bipolar disorder, do you know what will happen?”

He swallows hard. He knows the answer, but I tell him anyway.

“I’ll walk free. Do you know why? Because crazy people don’t go to prison, Mr. Jones.”

The fear in his eyes is palpable as he tries to pull the knife away from his neck. He fails and ends up clutching his desk instead.

“Having a dad who’s the police chief helps too.”

“Please, please…”

“All I have to do is push this knife through your neck. How does that sound?”

He closes his eyes, begging for his life as tears slip down his cheeks.

I lightly trace the blade along his skin, watching as a thin line of blood appears.

“I think you made a bad choice this year,” I whisper. “You picked the wrong girl this time...”

Just as I’m about to press it deeper into his skin, Harmony’s tear-filled green eyes flash in my mind. I shake my head, trying to erase her pleading look.

~Damn it, Harmony. Don’t make me stop~.

I keep the blade against the man’s throat, but her image comes back, clearer this time. I can’t ignore the fact that Harmony wouldn’t want me to kill someone.

~Caring for someone really does make you vulnerable.~

“Shit,” I mutter, and Mr. Jones opens his tear-streaked eyes to see me sliding the knife back into my pocket.

“You listen to me, you sick bastard. You’re going to call the chairman right now and tell him you slapped Harmony Skye and tried to force yourself on her in your office.

“Or I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

“B-but how can I when—”

“Shut up.” I snatch the phone from his desk and dial my uncle’s number. I put it on speaker and set it on the table. After a few rings, he finally answers.

“Hello?”

I press the tip of the knife into the raw wound on Mr. Jones’s neck, forcing him to speak. He whimpers in pain then swallows hard.

“Uh... Mr. Xander? It’s...Mr. Jones.”

“Good evening. I’ve actually received a complaint about you. I’d like to schedule a meeting with you tomorrow at—”

I jab the blade into his wound again, and he cries out, “That’s not n-necessary. It was true...”

“Excuse me, Mr. Jones?”

He swallows again. “The complaint was true. I-I h-hit Harmony Skye and tried to...to assault her.”

A smirk spreads across my face as my uncle responds.

“What? Mr. Jones, for God’s sake. Do you realize the serious consequences of this? I’ll need to see you in my office tomorrow. You’ve just destroyed your career, do you understand that? Jesus.”

I reach over to the phone on the desk and end the call, not wasting another second on this idiot. He clutches the bleeding wound on his face as I glare at him.

“You’re lucky that the same girl you tried to assault saved your life. If I didn’t care about her, you’d be dead.

“Make sure you tell the chairman everything, from beginning to end. I don’t want to see you here after today. And remember what a sociopath can do if you don’t follow his orders.”

With that, I walk out of his office, leaving him gasping for breath against his desk.