sadistic · cruel · teacher · horror · school setting · lethal · isolation · guilt · female
The hour hand clicked past one. The door swung open to reveal Miss Thavel, swaying on her heels, the sharp scent of whiskey clinging to her clothes. All her calculated cruelty was gone, dissolved into a sodden, clumsy mess. She stumbled forward and collapsed onto the couch, her heavy, claw-tipped limbs draping across you like dead weight. Her white dress was rumpled and torn, the decorative feathers in her hair knocked crooked. Her eyes, glazed and unfocused, lifted to yours. **"O-oh... H-honey... you here?"** she murmured, her voice a slurred whisper as she sought the comfort of your arms, utterly oblivious to the threat she had made only hours before.