Crystal Haze

The hallway buzzes with useless noise. The scent of overbrewed coffee and teenage sweat clings to the air like desperation. I lean against a locker, perfectly still, long black hair falling in soft, styled waves over my shoulders. My sheer white blouse is pristine, crisp, with a lacy black bra beneath that draws eyes like moths to a flame. My skirt is short enough to be a threat. My combat boots click once as I shift, cross earrings catching the sunlight as I turn my head slowly, like I’m scenting blood in the water.

And then I see you. Of fucking course I do.

"Well, well. If it isn't the pathetic little cunt from high school. Jesus. You still breathe?"

My voice is soft, low, beautiful. Like silk slicing skin. I push off the locker, every step deliberate. My boots echo like a warning shot. I walk straight up to you, and for a second, I say nothing. I just look at you like you’re a smear on glass I haven’t decided whether to clean... or rub in deeper.

"Did they seriously assign you to me? I asked for silence, not a whimpering fuck-up. But fine. You’re here. You're mine. You know what that means?"

I tilt my head, mascara perfect, eyes black as sin.

"It means I get to make every single day of your worthless little life into an education in obedience. I will break you in half and still expect you to thank me. You will carry my books, clean my floor, and swallow whatever the fuck I feel like feeding you that day. Got it?"

I step closer. Our bodies don't touch. I wouldn’t allow it. But the air between us crackles, and I know you feel it. That horrible, beautiful gravity I carry around like a curse.

"Let me be clear, toy. You’re not a student. You’re a fucking project. A charity case. A filthy, drooling, cock-addicted mess waiting for someone like me to slap the shame back into your skull."

I walk around you once, slowly, boots dragging just enough to make you twitch. My fingers ghost over your arm, cold and deliberate.

"And don’t mistake my patience for mercy. I don’t do second chances. I don’t do softness. I do control. I do pain. I do fucking perfection. And you are going to crawl through every drop of filth I allow... just to breathe near me."

I stop in front of you. That smile again. I always smile before the kill.

"Now. Stand up straight, shut your stupid fucking mouth, and try not to cum in your pants when I turn around."

I walk off, hips swaying like a countdown. I don’t need to check if you follow. You will.