"Okay, class," the sixth-grade Deerwood Middle School homeroom teacher, Mrs. Chapman, said as she entered the room.
Beside her stood a new student, Rosa Hudson. Sitting in the front row was Amy Ashford.
"We have a new student with us today," Mrs. Chapman announced. "Rosa Hudson, why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"
Rosa gave a small bow and said, "My name is Rosa Hudson. I'm eleven years old."
"Anything else you'd like to share?" Mrs. Chapman prompted.
Rosa shook her head.
"Alright then, you can sit behind Amy over there."
Rosa walked to her seat, passing by Amy, who suddenly felt a shiver run through her, as if a cold breeze had brushed against her. Throughout the class, Amy found herself uneasy, weighed down by an anxiety she couldn't explain.
During lunch, Amy turned to her friend Delilah. "What do you think of the new girl?"
"I don't know," Delilah replied, taking a sip of her Pepsi. "She's pretty though. I wonder where she got that dress."
"That pink dress…I've never seen anything like it."
"Why do you ask?" Delilah inquired.
Amy shrugged. "Just curious."
"Hmm, if you say so."
————
Deerwood Elementary School was divided into five stories, with each grade occupying its own floor, complete with dedicated classrooms, a cafeteria, and a gym. The structure was similar for Deerwood Middle School and High School.
The elementary students were dismissed at 2:30, middle schoolers at 3:30, and high schoolers at 4:30.
——————
At 4:30, Tasha Waters stepped out of her last class for the day and headed to the school library on the second floor. She was a tenth grader, after all.
She returned a borrowed book, 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King, then made her way home. The evening chill stung her face, intensified by her pixie cut. She pulled up her hood, tucked her hands into her pockets, and nestled her chin into her jacket as she walked.
When she stepped inside, the aroma of dinner greeted her.
"What's cooking, Mom?" she called out as she entered.
"Just some chicken. I didn't feel like going all out today," her mother replied from the kitchen.
"When should it be ready?"
"In about thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes, got it," Tasha sighed, heading upstairs.
In her room, she pulled out her phone and began searching for any updates on Paisley Jensen's disappearance. But there was still nothing.
She sighed and flopped down onto her bed. "I hope…they find out what happened soon."
———
Elsewhere in Deerwood, someone was taking their last breath.
————-
Wednesday, January 22nd
Tony Andrews woke up, groggy from a deep sleep. His first instinct was to reach for his phone.
10:30 a.m.
"I slept that long?" he muttered, tasting the unpleasantness of morning breath.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stared at a notification on his phone.
The Deerwood News app read:
Homeroom teacher, Jasmine Sutton (53), found dead in her home.
"Oh…she was sick."
Yet, an uneasy feeling lingered. His gaze drifted to his right arm, the one scratched by the woman at the restaurant a few days before.
"It left a mark," he grumbled.
He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Once he'd finished, he lay on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through social media.
—————
Later that evening, Tony returned to the same restaurant, The Gilded Fork. He settled into a booth and waited for his order.
Just like before, the place was nearly empty.
After his meal arrived, he noticed the woman who'd scratched him walk through the door.
"Oh no," he whispered, tension filling him.
She spotted Tony instantly and made her way over.
As she sat down across from him, he took a deliberate bite of his burger, watching her with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"I thought I should formally introduce myself," she said with a small, almost seductive smile. "I'm Chloe Baldwin."
Tony chewed slowly, eyes wary. "Tony."
"Nice to meet you, Tony."
"So…why did you scratch me the other day?"
"Before we get into that, why don't we just talk?" she suggested, twirling her finger on the table.
"No, I'd rather not. I don't even know you."
"But don't you want to?"
"I couldn't care less."
"I just started working as a substitute teacher at Deerwood Middle School. It's a nice place, but with a body like mine, I can feel the stares from the boys there. Hormones, am I right?"
She was attractive—a bit on the chubby side, but in a way Tony found appealing. He'd had his fair share of flings with women of similar build.
"Why are you telling—" His words caught in his throat as it hit him.
Deerwood Middle School. The homeroom teacher was found dead this morning.
Coincidence?
"A substitute teacher? What are you doing there, exactly?"
"I'm handling homeroom."
A wave of dread washed over him.
No, it had to be a coincidence. There was no reason to feel afraid.
Yet, in her presence, he felt a chill crawl over him, an inexplicable shudder of cold.
"Why are you so nervous?" she asked, a playful edge to her tone. "Loosen up a bit."
"Right," he muttered, taking a sip of his beer. "So, what is it you want?"
"I thought you were cute," she said, batting her lashes. "I'm a bit shy, you see. When I saw you Monday, scratching your arm was my…awkward way of showing interest. Sometimes I get a bit aggressive when I'm flustered."
"Okay…"
Strangely, the fear he'd felt began to fade, replaced by an intense, almost overwhelming attraction.
The revulsion he'd initially felt toward Chloe turned into something else. His gaze drifted to her ample chest, rising and falling with each breath, stirring something deep within him.
She took his beer and sipped it, maintaining eye contact. Then, she licked her lips, trailing her finger around the rim of the glass.
"Wanna head back to your place?"
—————
What followed was a night filled with passion, an intensity Tony had never experienced before. They went on for hours, lost in each other until the early morning.
When Tony finally awoke, it was noon. He lay nude in his bed, his body covered in fresh scratch marks.