The sun clawed its way above the horizon, casting a weak, blood-orange glow over the ancient stone walls of the academy. Inside the historical classroom, the air hung heavy with dust and secrets. The staff room door creaked open, its hinges groaning like a dying breath, and Russell stepped inside. His polished boots clicked against the warped wooden floor as he offered a strained, "Good morning, Samuel, sir."
The figure seated in the high-backed chair swiveled slowly, shadows pooling around him like ink. Samuel's eyes glinted, sharp and predatory, as he sneered, "What's a noble's brat doing in my classroom?" His voice was a low growl, laced with disdain.
Russell forced a smile, though his palms grew slick with sweat. "Wow, you know me well. It's good to be heard, isn't it, Samuel? So, what's the reason for your visit?" His words trembled slightly, betraying his bravado.
Samuel's gaze narrowed, and a sudden, suffocating aura pulsed through the room. The air thickened, pressing against Russell's chest until his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. "I know you're interested in minors, aren't you, sir?" Russell managed, his voice a fragile thread in the oppressive silence.
The pressure intensified, a dark energy coiling around him like invisible chains. Samuel's lips curled into a snarl. "How does a mere noble whelp know this—and dare speak to me so boldly?" His tone was venomous, each word dripping with menace.
Russell's knees buckled, but he forced himself to speak, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I… I have a request." The aura relented slightly, and Samuel leaned back, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Speak."
Coughing, Russell steadied himself. "I've been humiliated by a girl—Ruby. She's in Class A. Beautiful, sir. Stunning. Sexy, even." His words hung in the air, bait on a hook. Samuel's interest flickered, a spark of hunger igniting in his shadowed gaze.
"So, you want me to ruin her," Samuel mused, his voice smooth as oil. "To take her, break her, and call it your revenge. Is that it?"
Russell's lips twisted into a grin. "Yes, sir. We could be partners."
Samuel tilted his head, skepticism etching lines into his weathered face. "And why should I trust you?"
"Not just her," Russell pressed, his voice gaining strength. "There's Alice and Casca, too. Extraordinary beauties—girls every boy in this wretched place fights to claim. You can imagine how… exquisite they are."
Samuel's tongue darted across his lips, a grotesque mimicry of desire. "Well, then. I'll do it. You get your revenge, and I get my prize. A fair deal." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "But we wait—after the friendly match competition."
Russell nodded eagerly. "Of course, sir." With a final, triumphant smirk, he turned and slipped out of the room, his mind alight with the thrill of his sinister plot.
Alone, Samuel muttered, "Ah, damn it, I'm riled up now." His laughter was a jagged, guttural sound. "What a fool that noble is. Once I've had my fill of those girls, I'll gut him like the pig he is." His grin widened, a grotesque slash across his face, as he rose from his chair. His fingers brushed a worn book on the shelf—a hollow thud echoed as a hidden panel slid open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
The flickering torchlight barely pierced the gloom as Samuel descended, each step a deliberate thud against the damp stone. At the bottom, a small chamber awaited, its air thick with the stench of mildew and despair. On a sagging cot lay Mina, a Class B girl, her delicate frame still and lifeless beneath the effects of Samuel's drug. Her chestnut hair fanned across the pillow, a stark contrast to her pallid skin.
"What a beauty," Samuel crooned, his voice a sickening caress. "Sixteen years old—fresh, pure, not like those filthy hags." He chuckled, a sound that slithered through the shadows. "My little concoction keeps her mind locked away. She'll feel nothing, remember nothing—until I say otherwise."
His hands moved with practiced ease, stripping away her clothes as though unwrapping a gift. The act that followed was a violation, a grotesque dance of power and lust, his grunts echoing off the stone walls. Mina lay motionless, a doll in his grasp, until—impossibly—her eyes fluttered open just as he finished. Panic flared in her chest, but she held still, her mind racing as he withdrew, oblivious to her awakening.
Samuel returned to his staff room, whistling a tuneless melody as if nothing had transpired. Behind him, in the hidden chamber, Mina stirred. Pain seared through her—blood trickled between her thighs, bite marks marred her chest and arms, and a dull ache throbbed in her core. Memories crashed over her like a tidal wave: Samuel's face, his leering grin, the needle in her arm. She stifled a sob, wiping tears from her cheeks as footsteps approached.
The door creaked open. Samuel stepped inside, his expression smug. "What a delightful time we had, eh? What was your name again—Mina, wasn't it?" He produced a syringe, its contents glinting in the torchlight. "Time to send you back to your dorm, none the wiser."
Mina forced her body to slacken, her eyes half-lidded as he injected the antidote. He dressed her carelessly, then hoisted her limp form over his shoulder, carrying her through the shadowed halls to her room. Depositing her on the bed, he slipped away, unnoticed by the sleeping academy.
The moment he was gone, Mina's façade shattered. She curled into herself, sobs wracking her frail body. "I've been destroyed," she whispered, her voice breaking. "That monster… I'm just a commoner. I can't touch him." Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. "But I'll kill him. Somehow, I'll make him pay."
Meanwhile, in his staff room, Samuel lounged in his chair as the door swung open. A student entered, dropping a report on his desk before scurrying away. Samuel tore it open, revealing three photographs: Ruby, Alice, and Casca. Their faces stared back at him—radiant, innocent, untouchable. His tongue flicked across his lips, a hungry edge to his grin. "Three extraordinary beauties," he murmured, tracing a finger over the images. "I'll have them all."
His hand slipped beneath the desk, his breathing growing ragged as he surrendered to his depravity. A predator in waiting, he was blind to the storm brewing beyond his lair. Outside, beneath a moon as pale as bone, David stood watch. His silhouette cut a stark figure against the night, his eyes fixed on the academy's looming spires. The guardian of the prey Samuel hunted was no mere man—he was a force of hell itself, biding his time.
The chapter closed in silence, the darkness deepening, the horrors yet to unfold.