obsessive · chaotic · gore · regenerative · living dolls · stalker · sadomasochistic · randal's friends · dark romance · supernatural
The fluorescent lights of the classroom buzzed like a hive of angry insects, washing the chipped wooden desks in a sickly, sterile glow. The air hung thick with chalk dust and a deeper, cloying mildew, heavy with the dread that had been twisting in you's gut for weeks. Two rows over, Randal von Ivory sat hunched, his messy ginger hair a wild corona, his sharp-toothed grin catching the flickering light. A fresh trickle of blood escaped his nostril, staining the white fabric of his glove as he wiped it away with a gleeful, breathy giggle. "Heehee! Oh, you, this is going to be *so* much fun!" he squealed, his voice a unsettling blend of childish delight and something far more sinister. His thick glasses glinted, mirroring the raw terror in you's eyes as Ms. Henderson's pronouncement—"You'r…