Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Unstable had a rough year. He had recently moved to a new high school, having to start from scratch—again. He wasn’t unfamiliar with this feeling, though. All his life, he had been moving from school to school. But at least for now, his parents promised he’d actually stay here and wouldn’t have to move anymore. Just like all the other times, they had said that. Not that it mattered, since this was his last year anyway.
Still, Unstable hoped this time was different.
He had been enrolled in a new school—one where education was said to be of the highest quality—and applying was completely free. Too good to be true, Unstable thought. But to his surprise, the school was quite nice. No falling ceilings, no litter in the main halls, and janitors always seemed to be cleaning whenever they could.
Paper School seemed like a very appealing place for neat freaks—like his sister. But she had gone to a private girls' school. Their parents told her it would make her more refined since she was the type of person who couldn’t sit still for longer than two seconds. But that’s what made her fun.

***

As Unstable stepped through the hallways, he heard the bell ring. Had the class already started? He couldn't be late on his first day—that would make a bad impression.
He rummaged through his backpack, reaching deep inside. He needed his schedule to figure out where he was supposed to go, but no matter how far he searched, he couldn’t find it. He let out a quiet curse. Great. He supposed he would just have to check every classroom until he found the right one.
Classroom after classroom, thousands of eyes staring at him—he knew they’d remember. Definitely. Especially the teacher who had given him a cold, lingering stare.
After making his way through the hallway, he stopped in front of a blue door, its surface covered in scratches and marks—probably the work of some troublemakers. He didn’t really care. He just needed to know if this was his classroom.
But just as he was about to take another step, an unfamiliar arm yanked him back.
"Whoa!"
A guy chuckled. "That's definitely not where you need to be."
Unstable turned to see another student standing behind him.
"If you want to keep your organs intact, don’t go through that door," the guy added, tilting the top hat resting on his head.
Unstable narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
"Vance. But my parents call me Adam. But you can call me Advance. Kidding. Don’t call me that. Call me Vance," he muttered.
Unstable ignored the strange introduction. "What's behind that door?"
"A girl with an intense taste for malice. Δlice, they call her. To put it simply, she’s horror beyond comprehension. But, whew, she’s a looker." Vance whistled.
Unstable shot him a weird look, but brushed past it. "Why are they keeping her?"
"Hell if I know. Only the principal would have an answer. Maybe Oliver, too. That sorry excuse of a boyfriend. Total prick with a huge ego. Complete wuss, though. He basically hides behind her."
Unstable couldn't tell if Vance was joking or being completely serious. He decided to take a shot.
"Do you, uh… have feelings for her?"
Vance just nodded. "Mhm."
Unstable wasn’t sure what to think. Someone actually liking someone despite the horrors they were capable of? It was weird. But—maybe—he kind of wished he could find love, too. Not now, though.
"Okay… Do you at least know where Miss Bloomie’s class is?"
Vance raised an eyebrow. "You must be new." He smirked. "Sure, I’d be happy to help."

***

The school day went on, and Unstable eventually figured out which classes he was supposed to be in. He made a mental note of everything that stood out to him.
Three teachers, in particular, caught his attention the most.
First, there was Miss Circle—a freakishly tall math teacher who could easily be mistaken for a pine tree. Not that she liked those remarks. But what really caught Unstable’s eye was the compass. Why on earth would someone have such a thing attached to their arm? It was bizarre. Miss Circle claimed she had been in some sort of accident, but she never explained the purpose—or reason—for having a compass in place of her hand.
Then there was Miss Bloomie, a woman with a knack for inventing weird gadgets. Her earliest invention, A blade arm—razor-sharp and precise enough to cut through the air with deadly accuracy. And she wasn’t a bad shot, either. Unstable had seen her shoot a kid’s phone right out of his hands after he ignored the No Phones policy. Despite being fairly tall, she was still the shortest of the teachers. If there were rankings based on height, Miss Bloomie would be at the bottom of the list, she wasn’t well respected amongst her peers either. They’d usually tease her for it.
And then… There was Miss Thavel, the language teacher.
Unstable wasn’t sure if he could even focus properly in her class. Whenever he tried to ask a question, all that came out were incoherent noises. He didn’t know what this feeling was—the way his mind fogged up whenever she got close. The pleasant scent of coconut and almond lingered around her, comforting and familiar in a way he couldn’t explain.
Her attire wasn’t bad, either. But it was her claws—sharp and menacing—that should have been terrifying. Yet, Unstable found himself unable to look away.
This feeling was foreign to him.
Maybe it was love. Maybe it was an obsession. Maybe it was something else entirely.
But Unstable wasn’t 100% sure what.

Chapter -1 “Ignosce mihi, Claire.”

Gone.
She was gone.
Forever.
Engel stood there, frozen in disbelief. His best friend had been brutalized—slaughtered. He had seen her desperately trying to escape, struggling to get away. But she hadn't. She couldn’t. And it was his fault.
He should have warned her. He should have told her to stay away from Δlice’s room. He had been a fool not to. If only he had spoken up, Claire might still be alive. She could have escaped.
But now, she was nothing more than a lifeless body.
Engel’s chest tightened as he stared down at her, horror and guilt clawing at his throat. Around him, teachers began to gather, their faces appeared with shock and terror.
And so did those three murderers.
They feigned concern, their false expressions masking the truth he already knew. He had seen what the princess of malice was capable of. And he knew exactly what those three teachers had done.
They had taken Abbie.
They had taken Lana.
And they had tried to take Claire.
Engel's hands curled into fists. He was about to open his mouth, to call them out—to expose them for what they really were, but then—
"Keep that mouth shut, or you'll go down with us. Any word of our violent deeds spreading, and we'll make sure you join Claire."
A cold whisper behind him said.
He recognized that voice.
Miss Circle.
Engel’s breath hitched. He should have spoken up anyway. He should have thrown their crimes in their faces. But he was terrified. Too terrified.
He just stood there, trembling.
Coward.
Miss Circle’s hand landed on his shoulder—a slow, methodical pat.
And Engel nodded.
Because he was too afraid to do anything else.

***

"Damn it, we can't kill him."
Miss Circle cursed under her breath. If anything happened to Engel now, suspicion would fall on them immediately. Too many students—too many teachers—had seen them chasing Claire. They knew something had happened.
So, Miss Circle had spun a story. A weak one, but believable enough. She claimed they were merely confronting Claire about her grades, that it had been an accident. That they hadn’t meant to push her through that door.
At least… half of that sentence was true.
And Engel? They had forced him to lie, too. He had no choice. He knew what would happen if he didn’t. When asked about his injuries, the teachers made sure he had given one that kept their names far from the story.
"I suppose we'll just have to lay off the discipline until all eyes are off us."
Miss Bloomie’s voice was calm, almost indifferent, as she tinkered with the mechanics of her blade arm. The metallic clicks and whirs filled the silence between them.
Killing Engel wasn’t an option. Not yet.
If they did, they would be the first suspects. And they had already drawn far too much attention after Claire’s attempt to escape. The beast lurking behind that forbidden door… God, what a blessing it had been. They had managed to cover it up—somehow.
And the police barely asked questions about the murder of a teenage girl.
Miss Grace knew about Δlice. But not about the killings. She, too, wanted to keep Δlice’s existence under wraps. And in doing so… she had allowed three murderers to keep roaming the school halls.

Chapter Text

The bell rang loudly, its shrill, piercing Unstable’s ears. Unstable winced. He’d have to get used to that.
At least it was lunchtime, though.
Lunch meant free time—time to sit, eat, and not worry about anything else for a while. He unpacked his lunch: leftover pasta from the fancy restaurant his family had gone to last night. Lucky him.
Glancing around the cafeteria, he saw a couple of places he could sit.
The popular girls? But he could already tell they were more trouble than they were worth.
The bullies—whom Vance had warned him about earlier, so he wasn’t so interested in going to that table.
The last table was where a lonely boy sat, with a feather on the top of his head. He seemed to be twisting his fork at his food, soullessly.
Unstable didn’t have many good options, so he decided to give the table a shot.
"Can I sit here?"
The boy looked up, snapping out of what trance he’d been in.
"Oh. Sure."
Unstable smiled and took a seat.

***

Unstable wasn’t the social type, but something just seemed off about the student.
He put down his fork and decided to ask, just to make sure everything was alright.
"You alright?" Unstable asked casually.
"Hmm?" The boy looked up at him.
"I noticed you looked… out of it. Everything okay?"
The student chuckled as if trying to keep the situation from feeling tense.
Unstable knew that laugh. The kind of laugh he used to mask his dark times.
"You can tell me if something's wrong, y’know." Unstable pushed, but not too hard—pressing too much could make the student shut down completely. But Unstable knew something was wrong.
"I… lost someone." The student finally admitted.
Oh.
Oooh…
Ah.
Unstable sighed. "I didn’t expect that. I’m sorry."
The boy smiled faintly. "It’s okay. You didn’t know."
Unstable knew when it was time to stop, so he did. He leaned back into his seat and continued his meal.
The student exhaled. "There’s something… happening at this school."
Unstable blinked, then looked back at him. "What?"
"My friend… she went missing. She…"
The student hesitated like he was choosing his words carefully. Like someone was listening. Watching.
"...failed her test."
Unstable looked at him, concerned. "What do you think happened to her?"
“AHEM…”
Unstable looked up.
Standing before them was a tall woman—with a compass for an arm.
"May I inquire what you two gentlemen are talking about?" she asked so sweetly.
"Bugs," the student replied.
Unstable glanced back at the student.
Unstable caught on quickly. "We were talking about bugs," he repeated, this time with more confidence.
Miss Circle narrowed her eyes at the student, her gaze dripping with I’m watching you.
Just then, the bell rang.
Lunch was over.
"Well, I suppose you two have to head to your classes, hm?" Miss Circle murmured.
Unstable nodded—very slowly.
What the heck was that about?
He and the student got up and started walking toward their classrooms.
"Engel."
Unstable turned back to him. "Huh?"
"My name’s Engel."

Chapter Text

Miss Thavel had one interesting student. A very interesting one indeed.
His name was… Unstable, she thought.
Unstable seemed to take quite a liking to her. Around special holidays, he would always give her chocolates. How did he know white chocolate was her favourite?
But Unstable was an exceptional student, no doubt. He was earning a high novice grade in her language class, while most others were still below. Maybe she was just his favourite teacher.
Miss Thavel didn’t think much of it. It was probably just pandering. Yeah. Yeah. Just… pandering.
As the months passed, Valentine’s Day arrived. Couples got together, and people handed out sweets to one another.
As Miss Thavel was packing up, she noticed something on her desk.
A card.
And a box of chocolates.
How sweet.
Teachers often exchanged chocolates with each other, but she hadn’t noticed this one before. As she picked up the box, she glanced at the letter.

TO: Miss Thavel
FROM: A secret admirer

Secret admirer?
That was strange. There weren’t many male teachers at Paper School—if any.
The only male teacher was Mister Demi, but he was already in a relationship with Miss Sasha. Miss Circle was with Mister Compass, though she had yet to see him. None of the other teachers seemed particularly interested in her, either.
Miss Thavel rubbed her temples. She had no words for this.
Surely someone was just messing with her. Yeah. That was probably the reason. She hoped.
But no one would buy this much chocolate for a joke.
Tomorrow, she would ask some questions. But that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, she just desperately wanted to sleep.
Then, a random thought popped into her mind.
What if it was Unstable?
That boy?
Could it be true? Him?
Once the idea entered her mind, there was no getting rid of it.
She shut the door to her classroom and locked it. As she turned, she noticed a student still lingering around.
"Mac Hine. What are you still doing here?"
Saying someone’s full name usually did the trick to catch their attention.
Mac was a proficient student. One amusing thing he did was "grade" other people’s work, offering feedback and criticism. It was entertaining—and it saved her some hassle.
However, he also had quite a distaste for Miss Circle.
It was surprising she hadn’t killed him yet.
Mac met eyes with her. "Oh, just hanging around."
"And you have nowhere else to be? It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?"
Mac scoffed. "Yeah, but I had no plans. I’m just introverted like that."
Miss Thavel’s eyes lowered. "Well, you’re not allowed to be here after school, so get out of here."
Mac glanced at the box of chocolates in her hands. "You got a date?"
Miss Thavel quickly looked down, she had completely forgotten about the chocolates. "No. No. Just a gift from someone."
Mac brought up a small detail that had slipped from Miss Thavel’s mind.
"I saw Unstable with one of those same boxes. But those are pretty common for gifts, so I’m not sure if it’s him."
"Ah. Interesting." Miss Thavel mused.
"Well, ciao, teach," Mac said, informally.
"Adios, Mac." Miss Thavel said as she walked off.

***

"Is something wrong?"
Miss Circle blinked. She hadn’t even noticed she was zoning out on the couch until Mister Compass pointed it out.
Miss Circle huffed. "It’s that boy. Engel. I don’t like how he’s still alive."
"And you’re not gonna take him out?" Mister Compass asked while playing with her hair.
Miss Circle grumbled. "I can’t. Every teacher has their eye on that brat ever since the accident."
"Ah." Mister Compass murmured as he got up to get something—presumably a snack.
A KitKat, probably.
Miss Circle loathed those. But oddly enough, she also ate them on her crummy days. Maybe it was just a mood thing.
While waiting for him, she looked around her house and noticed the old photos of them together. She didn’t think they had a photo together in many years.
Miss Circle always wanted to preserve memories, and tried to pester him, but Mister Compass always said it’s better to just live in the moment, since we’ll always have each other.
A few seconds later, Mister Compass returned with exactly what she had guessed—a KitKat.
Miss Circle chuckled. Typical.
As if hearing her thoughts, Mister Compass looked at her, smiling.
What?
Miss Circle had no idea how Mister Compass was so good at conserving his KitKat rations, while Miss Circle could bearly control herself when she got a bite of her Oreos. She was quite sure she had a problem.
"That student, Engel… I don’t think he’s going to keep his mouth shut."
Mister Compass bit into the KitKat, chewing with his mouth open. A bad habit of his.
"Oh yeah?" He said as bits of chocolate flew out of his mouth. Miss Circle didn’t mind since she thought it was quite charming.
Miss Circle glanced at the floor. "He was talking to another student, Unstable."
"And you think he’s going to try to spoil your secrets anyway, even after your threat to him?"
"Yes. Yes, I do. And it’s concerning. He could potentially rat us out."
"And what are you going to do about it?"
Miss Circle paused, thinking for a moment. "I’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t."
Mister Compass smiled. "I like it when you look murderous that way."

Chapter Text

The doctor frowned at Miss Circle. “It’s not serious, but if it recurs, don’t hesitate to call me. Take these medications—they’ll help.”
Miss Circle rolled her eyes. She killed students for the thrill, and what, a doctor was telling her to “relax” with some pills? Ha! That was rich. If only he knew.
She walked down the stairs with Mister Compass at her side, still fuming. “What the hell does that doctor know?” she muttered.
Mister Compass shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t know you kill students for fun, which probably plays a big part in your insanity.”
She laughed. “That’s what I was thinking!”
Then, a thought crossed her mind. “Hey, can you stick around and talk to my friends?”
Mister Compass hesitated. “Uh… you know I can’t do that. I’d rather just observe. As a compass.”
She frowned. “You never talk to anyone when you’re with me!”
“Yeesh, calm down, I’m just antisocial. Shoot me.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs. He bowed toward the door. “Ladies first.”
Miss Circle tilted her head. “Aren’t you supposed to open it for me?”
He blinked. “Well… It’s the modern age, right? Women can open doors for themselves.”
She smacked his face, rolling her eyes. “How cheesy, Compass.”
“Hey, ow!” He rubbed his cheek. “You’re a cruel lady.”
Rolling her eyes, she pushed the door open.
Miss Thavel and Miss Bloomie were waiting outside. They smiled when they saw her.
Miss Circle glanced behind her, expecting Mister Compass to be there.
Her hand was empty.
She looked back down at her right arm. He had vanished again. Just like always.
Miss Thavel raised a brow. “Were you with someone?”
Miss Circle hesitated for a second before sighing. “Yeah, but I guess he didn’t feel like sticking around.”
She slapped her compass.
Miss Bloomie looked curious. “Why’d you go to the doctor again?”
Miss Circle exhaled as they walked down the street. “Oh, you know, doctors trying to hold down my insanity. Like, I need mental help when I literally murder kids!” She laughed.
Miss Thavel growled. “Can you not announce that to the whole street, please?”
“Fine, fine.”
They stopped at a crosswalk. Miss Bloomie pressed the button to cross.
“I’m starving,” Miss Circle admitted.
“Want to grab something to eat?” Miss Thavel asked.
Miss Circle scanned the area, then perked up. “Sushi?”
Miss Bloomie looked up. “I’ve never had sushi before.”
Miss Thavel and Miss Circle both turned to her, stunned. “Never?”
“Well, I don’t know… I never found it appealing, I guess.”
Miss Circle chuckled. “You’re missing out.”
The crosswalk sign flashed, and they hurried across the street.
She reached the restaurant door first and pulled it open.
“Table for…” She hesitated.
Three.
Right.
She glanced at her compass before shaking the thought away.
“Table for three, please.”

***

The three teachers took their seats at a nearby table.
“So, how are your students?” Miss Circle asked, turning to Miss Thavel.
“Oh, they’re good—well-behaved, good grades,” she replied.
Miss Bloomie nodded. “Mine have been exceptional.”
A waiter approached with a polite smile. “May I take your orders?”
Miss Bloomie scanned the menu carefully, nodding as she decided. “I’ll have the uhh… I-inare- uh… inadizashe—erm…”
She winced. Her accent had betrayed her.
The waiter, clearly used to this, put the pieces together. “The Inarizushi?”
Miss Bloomie’s face burned with embarrassment. “Y-yes, that’s the one…”
Miss Thavel chuckled. Miss Bloomie shot her a glare. “Like you could do any better!”
Smirking, Miss Thavel closed her menu and, with full confidence, said, “May I have the Nigiri?”
Miss Bloomie’s expression weakened. She even got the accent right. “How did you pronounce it so flawlessly?”
Miss Thavel only smiled. “It helps when you study the language.” She turned to Miss Circle. “Isn’t that right?”
Without hesitation, Miss Thavel and Miss Circle began conversing fluently in Japanese. Their words flowed naturally, an easy back-and-forth that left Miss Bloomie dumbfounded.
“Hey! I’m the only one who doesn’t understand what you’re saying! That’s not fair!” she whined.
Miss Thavel chuckled. “You don’t need to know.” She reached over and patted Miss Bloomie’s head.
Miss Bloomie growled, shooing her hand away.
When their food arrived, Miss Bloomie’s eyes landed on a small mound of green paste next to her sushi. “What’s that?” she asked curiously.
“Guacamole,” Miss Circle said casually.
Miss Thavel gave her a sharp side-eye. “Why would you say that?” she muttered in Japanese.
“Because it’s hilarious,” Miss Circle whispered back.
Miss Bloomie, oblivious, picked up a piece of sushi. Miss Circle barely held back her laughter, watching in anticipation.
The moment Miss Bloomie took a bite, her throat and nostrils ignited with agony. She let out a strangled scream, clutching her face.
Miss Circle lost it. She burst into manic laughter, practically dying in her chair.
It took a lot of mochi before Miss Bloomie finally smoothed down.
The prank was hilarious.
Unless you asked Miss Bloomie.

Chapter Text

Miss Thavel grumbled. Mondays. She did not like Mondays.
It’s a song, too, isn’t it? ♪ I don’t like Mondays, tell me why? ♪ A song about a teenage girl who took out her rage on a school.
Sometimes, Miss Thavel just felt like doing that.
Miss Thavel looked ahead and saw Miss Bloomie tweaking her arm blade again. It’s like that’s all she ever did.
"So… how was your class?" Miss Thavel asked.
Miss Bloomie looked over and replied, "Good. We had an experiment, took things off the shelves."
"Did you need Miss Circle’s help to reach the higher ones?"
Miss Thavel had taken a jab at her, and Miss Bloomie walked right into it.
One second later, a blade went flying at her.
Miss Thavel caught it just before it could turn her head into a burst balloon. She could feel her hands start to bleed.
"You’re using sharper blades, I see." She inspected the blade closely.
"You know I’m sensitive about that, prick." Miss Bloomie growled.
"Aww, should I apologize?" Miss Thavel playfully bantered.
Miss Thavel had nothing better to do, so she decided to tease Miss Bloomie a little more.
Miss Bloomie rolled her eyes. Probably the best move is not to engage any further.
Thank goodness for that quick reaction time from her genes, or else the staff lounge might have gotten painted red.
Miss Thavel was about to make another remark when she heard the sound of heavy-duty boots.
She knew that noise.
Miss Circle.
She quickly looked toward the door and saw her.
"Good afternoon, ladies." Miss Circle greeted as she walked toward Miss Thavel.
Miss Thavel nodded in acknowledgement.
"I have an assignment for you. You know the drill by now."
"And what happened to keeping discipline down?" Miss Thavel questioned.
"I know, but just bear with me." Miss Circle sighed. "I have a particular student in mind."
Miss Thavel tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently. "Who is it?"
"Unstable Battlebricker Mechanic."
Miss Thavel froze.
What?
"Don’t tell me you’ve started developing feelings for those things…" Miss Circle said, reading the look on Miss Thavel’s face.
Miss Thavel cleared her throat. "No, it’s not that. I just needed to process it."
She desperately tried to mask her emotions, hoping Miss Circle wouldn’t catch on.
"Hmmm… Alright. Do it like you usually do. I know how painful and sadistic you can get."
Miss Thavel nodded, understanding she couldn’t say no to this assignment.
The lunch bell rang.
"Suppose we have to get to our classes now, hm?" Miss Circle patted Miss Thavel on the shoulder. "Just get the job done."

***

It had taken all of Miss Thavel’s willpower not to scream.
Why him?
Out of all the students, why him?
For the first time in her life, Miss Thavel felt helpless.
She looked at the furniture around her—then lost control.
She smashed everything. She didn’t care anymore.
The wooden chair had been snapped in two, the flower pot had been destroyed, covering the air in a thick dust.
One of the first student she had somewhat cared about… was now the person she had to kill.
She felt droplets of water hitting the floor.
Tears?
What were these emotions she felt?
She forced herself to compose like she always had.
With slow, shaky breaths, she cleaned up the mess she had made.
Then, without another teardrop, she headed to class.

Chapter Text

Miss Thavel was late.
She had never been late to class before. It was concerning, but Unstable assured himself there had to be a reason.
He glanced at his table.
“Did you study, Ferra?”
Ferra looked over at Unstable, confused. “Study for what?”
“Y’know. The test?”
“Uh…” Ferra didn’t answer, but the silence was enough.
Unstable noticed Vance glaring at the other table—where the bullies sat.
“What do you see?” Unstable asked.
“I think they’re planning to cheat,” Vance muttered.
“What makes you think that?”
“Do you see their pencil cases? Why do you think they’re copying down their notes and stuffing them in there?”
Unstable shrugged. “You might be right.”
“Those guys always get away with it, too,” Vance murmured.
Just then, Oliver noticed them staring and walked over.
“You’re not planning to tell on us, right?” Oliver asked. Though with his tone, it felt more like a command than a question.
Vance’s reply was sharp. “Beat it, soap muncher.”
Oliver looked surprised—maybe even amused. “Oh? You wanna throw hands, tough guy?”
Vance barked back, “You’re a coward, wuss. I’d snap you like a twig.”
Unstable figured it was best to avoid getting involved if things escalated. Instead, he walked over to where Engel was sitting alone, reading.
Engel saw him and smiled, closing his book.
“Where’s Miss Thavel, you think?” Unstable asked as a greeting.
Engel didn’t answer that. Instead, he simply muttered, “Just don’t fail this test.”
Unstable had heard him say something like that before.
“What do you mean? What happens?” Unstable pressed.
Engel let out a shaky breath. “The teachers, they—”
Before he could finish, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“Vance! Oliver! What are you two doing?!”
Miss Thavel.
Apparently, Oliver and Vance had decided to settle things.
Unstable hadn’t been watching, but from the looks of it, Vance was winning.
Oliver hissed, “You’re a piece of crap!”
Vance just chuckled. “I’d snap you in two in a real fight, coward!”
“That’s it! You two—principal’s office!” Miss Thavel snapped.
Vance grinned while Oliver looked devastated.
“What?! Why me?! He started the damn thing!”
“I don’t care. You can settle it with Miss Grace.”
Unstable could feel the chill that ran down Oliver’s spine.
Miss Grace.
Her office was described as cold and eerie.
If you ever got sent to her office… it usually meant expulsion.
The two barely held back from ripping each other apart—at least until they were out of Miss Thavel’s sight.
Miss Thavel sighed. “I’m sorry about that… and for being late to class. I was catching up on things. We’ll start the test now. To your assigned seats.”
Her voice was sharp. Stern.
The class fell silent.

***

Unstable sharpened his pencil before looking back at the others. It seemed everyone was trying to squeeze in every last minute of studying. He felt confident, though. Out of all his classes, this was the one he excelled the most.
As Miss Thavel handed out the papers, Unstable confidently began writing the test.
What.
Huh?
A wave of confusion washed over him, and a pit formed in his stomach. He had never seen material like this before. His hands clamped onto the paper as his eyes darted around the room. No one else seemed to be reacting the way he was. A few students looked puzzled, but they were usually the ones who struggled the most.
What the heck is going on?
He tried to skip over the questions he found too difficult, but some of them didn’t even make sense.
Circle the most correct term for what sans défense means.
A. Confused
B. Meaningless
C. With (something)
D. All of the above.
His head spun. The more he tried to focus, the worse it got. Every little noise became amplified—the scratching of pencils, the erasing of graphite, the ticking of the clock. He could hear everything, except for his own thoughts.
Unstable blinked at the test, frustration and confusion taking hold. He took a deep breath and decided to ask Miss Thavel for some answers.
“Uh… Miss?” he said hesitantly as she walked from table to table, glancing at students’ work.
“Yes, Unstable?” she responded.
“I—I don’t think we’ve studied this material before,” he said, his voice tinged with worry.
Miss Thavel glanced at him, then shrugged. “Hmm… maybe you were distracted in class?” she said dismissively.
Well, that was helpful.
Unstable sat helplessly at his desk, struggling to make sense of the test in front of him.

***

"Time's up."
Unstable flinched and accidentally snapped the graphite in his mechanical pencil upon hearing those words. He hopelessly tried to write more, but it was no use. Eventually, he was forced to hand over his test paper. At least the dread of it was over. He had tried his best—or at least he thought he did.
Unstable knew that test would leave a stain on his perfect score in this class. It was okay, he supposed, since he couldn’t do anything about it.
As he walked through the halls, he made his way to his locker. Language class was always the last class of the day. He hurried up the stairs to drop off some textbooks so he could finally leave. Today had felt especially long.
Once he reached his locker, panting, he quickly dropped off the books. A loud thud echoed from inside. They were hardcovers, so it was probably fine. He reassured himself.
As he finished and snapped the lock shut, he noticed a figure standing in front of him.
Unstable couldn’t make out what it was—only that it had antlers.
Just as he was trying to process what he was looking at, the figure stepped closer.
Unstable’s heart dropped.

Chapter Text

It was Miss Thavel. And she was slowly approaching Unstable.
He supposed he must have failed the test that badly if Miss Thavel had to confront him about it. But something felt… off.
Her movements were slow. Methodical.
Goosebumps rose on his skin as he instinctively took a step back. “M-Miss Thavel?”
She didn’t respond. Didn’t blink. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
His paper.
A bold red F was marked across the front.
Unstable’s stomach twisted.
That meant failure.
Miss Thavel finally spoke, her voice cold and final.
"We don’t keep failures in our school."
Then, she lunged.
Oh, God. Engel had been right.
He had warned Unstable. And now it was too late.
Unstable didn’t connect the pieces fast enough. He barely had time to react before she gave full chase.
His blood ran cold. Every instinct screamed at him to run.
So, he did.
He sprinted in the other direction, practically leaping down each flight of stairs, not caring if his legs could keep up. He wasn’t even sure if he would make it out of there alive.
His backpack was slowing him down. Dead weight.
He pulled it off his shoulders and threw it as hard as he could at Miss Thavel.
It slammed into her, making her stumble back—but only for a second. She quickly recovered.
Unstable felt his chest tighten. He was being hunted.
Like prey.
He ran like hell, but his legs were burning, his lungs felt like they were collapsing, and his vision blurred with tears. He was too afraid to look back, but he knew—he just knew—that Miss Thavel had far more stamina than he.
He screamed for help. No response.
He had to get out. But he was still on the fifth floor.
His body was growing weaker. His movements were sluggish. He was getting desperate for anything.
A miracle.
A door.
Unstable rounded the corner and dove inside, pressing himself against the wall. He clamped a hand over his mouth, holding his breath. Any sound could lead her straight to him.
The sharp click-click-click of heels echoed down the hallway.
The footsteps rushed past.
Unstable exhaled shakily. He had done it. He—
The door burst open.
Unstable flinched, his breath hitching as his panic came back.
She was there.
Miss Thavel stood in the doorway. Her gaze locked onto him.
Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward.
Like a predator with its cornered prey.
He shivered, pressing himself back against the wall, his body trembling. He couldn’t escape, hide, or run—not that he could; he was already exhausted.
A whimper escaped him. His voice cracked as he sobbed incoherent pleas.
“No, no, no—”
Miss Thavel tilted her head.
Something in her expression… shifted.
A hesitation.
She exhaled sharply, almost annoyed. “I didn’t get a say when they rigged your test.” A pause. Then, calmly, “It’s not personal.”
Who had rigged it? Why?
Before he could process her words, he saw her claws emerge.
Sharp. Cold. Ready.
“W-wait! P-please—” Unstable stammered, not even sure what he was saying.
“Please, what?” Miss Thavel asked, stepping closer. And closer.
“P-please don’t do this…” he whimpered.
She hesitated again.
Each step forward was slower than the last. Like she was… unsure.
Unstable sobbed softly. It would all be over soon. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to turn away. Maybe it would hurt less if he didn’t see it coming.
Then—her hand grasped his face.
Unstable yelped.
Her fingers were freezing against his skin.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, splashing onto her tattered dress.
Miss Thavel’s grip loosened. Just slightly.
She stared at him—stared at him.
Sorrow flickered behind her eyes. Guilt.
“Stop that noise,” she ordered, though her voice lacked its previous coldness.
Unstable sniffled, trying desperately to hold it in.
“I-I’m sorry—”
Miss Thavel pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. Frustrated. Conflicted.
“You’re making this so damn difficult,” she groaned.
“I don’t w-wanna die…” Unstable pleaded.
Something in her broke.
She looked away for a split second, her grip faltering, her mind fighting with itself.
Unstable took a shallow, shaky breath. He could see it—she was torn.
Her heart was fighting against whatever orders she had been given.
He opened his mouth, voice fragile. “C-can you let me go?”
Miss Thavel didn’t answer right away.
She just stared at him.
Then, she whispered, “No.”
Not coldly. Not cruelly.
But… gently.
Unstable’s breath caught. Why did that make it even worse?
Miss Thavel’s hands twitched. Her gaze flickered—down to his lips.
Unstable instinctively shrank back, eyes widening.
“N-no, look at me,” she murmured.
“Just…”
“…Hold still.”
Unstable froze.
“W-why are you doing this?” he stammered.
He didn’t get an answer.
Instead, Miss Thavel closed the distance—and pressed her lips against his.
Unstable’s mind went blank and hazed.
She pulled back, some saliva lingered between their mouths.
Unstable froze.
The world faded. It was just her. Just this.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
Miss Thavel plunged back into his lips, more intense this time.
A muffled sound escaped his throat as Miss Thavel deepened the kiss, pulling him in. Her arms curled around his body, hands dragging across his skin. Caressing him.
Unstable shuddered. In contrast to her sharp claws, her hands were soft. Now, her hands felt gentle. Warm.
He let out a quiet whimper as she moved, her breath hot against his neck.
Then—she bit him.
Unstable gasped, his body jolting.
Another bite. Gentler. Lingering.
“I wanted you so bad…” she whispered.
Her fingers curled around his scarf— tightened and tightened.
Unstable let out a strangled noise, his breathing being restricted as she choked him.
Not surprising for a sadist.
But he felt an uncomfortable excitement from it as his scarf only got tighter and tighter.
His mind fought against it. His body craved it.
The pressure built—until, finally, she let go.
Unstable sagged against the wall, gasping. Dizzy. Weak.
Miss Thavel smirked.
“I’m not letting you go that easily,” she teased.
A whimper left Unstable’s lips. He was trapped.
She had him pinned. Muted. Completely under her control.
Vulnerable.
A toy for her amusement.
Unstable shattered.
Unstable desperately tried to pull down her dress as some sort of lust came over him, he wanted more excitement.
Miss Thavel caught his wrist effortlessly.
She chuckled.
Then, she pulled her dress back up, out of his reach, before Unstable could get a glimpse of anything.
Unstable whined. Disappointed.
Miss Thavel leaned in, her voice a whisper against his lips.
“Not yet…”
Unstable’s hopefulness spiked.
‘Not yet’ could mean anything.
But ‘Not Yet’ could mean whenever.

***

Miss Thavel panted. She finally let go of his mouth but still kept him close, hugging him dearly.
Unstable’s eyes flickered to her. “Why do you do it?”
Miss Thavel’s head rose from his. “Do what?”
Unstable let out a small breath. “H-hunt students. Why?”
Miss Thavel had never thought about it. She had only obeyed Miss Circle willingly.
“I don’t… know,” she simply said.
“I… I’ve already gone too far. I’ll probably end up in some sort of hell, but I’ve made peace with that.”
“Why spare me, in particular?” Unstable questioned, still resting beside her.
“Have you ever… had a time where you didn’t want to kill a student?”
Miss Thavel didn’t answer. Her hands grew numb. Memories fluttered back
"Don't come back to this school."
Unstable stared at her, worried. "Why?"
Miss Thavel let out a ragged breath. "I was… ordered to hunt you down. And they won’t like knowing you’re still alive. For your safety… please. Please don’t come back here."
Unstable nodded.
Miss Thavel kissed his lips once more before getting up and leaving him.
What the hell just happened?

***

Unstable stumbled as he walked through the halls. The echo of his footsteps was the only sound—Miss Thavel had long since disappeared.
He staggered onto the streets, the loud school entrance door shutting behind him. The sun was setting. That meant he had been in there for quite some time. But it was beautiful—the colours bled together in the sky.
He walked down the road and finally saw his house. He sighed in relief. His keys clattered and clinked as he slid them into the keyhole and turned.
The door groaned as it opened, and he stepped inside.
At least he was finally home.

Chapter Text

Unstable shut the door and locked it.
“Someone’s been gone for quite some time,” a familiar feminine voice said.
It was his younger sister. Their parents had yet to return home—they were out of the country for business and had been gone for quite some time. That left Unstable in charge of the house, though he usually let his sister do what she wanted.
Unstable shifted his eyes toward the noise. He saw his younger sister leaning in the doorway, eyeing him closely. Sweaty. Her expression of him.
She smirked and gasped. “Did you go to a party?”
Unstable just stared at her tiredly. “I didn’t go to any party. Knock it off, Fem.” He said hoarsely.
Fem didn’t drop her teasing. “How boring… You went to a party but didn’t even drink? Yeesh.”
Unstable scoffed. “Neither of us is old enough to drink. And you’re a minor.”
Fem frowned. “But I see kids at my school hosting parties and bringing those drinks!”
Unstable countered, “Yeah, and their parents probably don’t care about them.”
Fem scowled. “Our parents aren’t even here.”
“Well, I care. I promised them I’d keep you safe.”
Fem pouted. “Okay… well, if you say you weren’t at a party, where were you?”
Unstable froze. “You… wouldn’t believe me.”
That was probably true. And besides, he really didn’t want Fem to know what happened. It would just make things more complicated than they already were.
Unstable glanced down at her hands. “Peanut butter?” he asked.
Fem quickly noticed it too and went to the sink, rubbing her hands under the running water. “You caught me making a sandwich, sue me.”
Unstable rolled his eyes. As long as she wasn’t doing anything bad, he didn’t mind. He just wanted to go to bed.
Then, he touched his shoulders and realized something.
My backpack.
He sighed in frustration.
Oh well. Nothing I can do now.
He was too tired to care anyway.
“Also, our garbage is full,” Fem pointed out.
Unstable looked at her, almost disappointed. “It’s your turn, isn’t it?”
“Uhm, I don’t remember that.”
Unstable frowned. “Of course you don’t.”
Sighing, he gathered the bags and headed outside—then almost tripped over something. His legs barely caught him before he hit the cement.
He looked down and saw his backpack.
His eyes widened, blood running cold, a sense of dread running over him. He quickly glanced around, searching for any sign of her, still sensing somebody watching him.
However, if she had been here, she would probably be long gone.
With his hands shaky, he threw the garbage bags into the bin before he hurried up the steps of the porch and back inside.

***

Words couldn’t describe what Miss Thavel had just done. She threw her pack onto the coffee table, rubbing her temples. What she had done was probably morally wrong. No. Very wrong. But it felt really pleasant. It seemed like—
No.
She knew she was just making excuses. She would probably be resting in the deepest pit of hell for that.
She didn’t care, though. She just crawled into bed. She hadn’t even bothered to change into her sleeping clothes or brush her teeth. She just wanted to forget everything that had happened.

Chapter 2- “Somnium et paenitentia”

A burst of laughter erupted.
How long ago had she heard a noise like that?
The lady smiled at her. “Tea?” Miss Thavel blinked. “Sure, I’d like some, Malum, thanks.” She grabbed the teapot and poured its contents into the cup she had set down for her. “I have some news!” Miss Malum excitedly said. “Oh yeah?” Miss Thavel’s eyes perked up. “I finally found a high school for Abbie— A proper one!” Miss Thavel smiled, putting her hands to her tea, and sipping it. “That’s great, what’s the school name?” She asked curiously. “Paper school.” Miss Thavel felt the ground flip beneath her.
She felt a twist in her stomach.
No no no…
“Uhm, why that school? Aren’t there better options? Miss Malum’s eyes grew grim. “Ever since Abbie’s father… passed. This one was the only one I could afford. You work there, don’t you? Can you keep him safe for me? Miss Thavel’s heart sank with guilt. She simply nodded. “Right… I will.” She was making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. What was she doing? She just hoped she would never have to do it.
Miss Thavel sighed. “I… have a question, Malum.”
Miss Malum looked back at her. “Yes?”
Miss Thavel put her hands on her legs, looking down at the floor. “Do you think… people can change? For good?”
Miss Malum smiled. “I believe anyone is capable of change. If they really believe.”
A voice screeched inside her mind.
You are lying to yourself.
You damn cheat.
You know Abbie will eventually suffer his fate.
Why?
Why?
Why?

***
She heard a scream.
She saw a terrified boy skid through the hallways. He took one glance at her and ran toward her. “P-please! HELP!”
Miss Thavel looked down at him. “I can’t.”
Abbie looked up in confusion. “W-what?”
Miss Thavel shook him off coldly. He tried to grasp her, begging for help. When he heard Miss Circle’s heavy footsteps thundering, his face turned as if stunned by betrayal.
“Why?”
Miss Thavel didn’t have a response. She just stood there.
He ran away into the next hallway, yelling for help. Miss Circle sprinted toward where Abbie was heading and then stopped to look at Miss Thavel. “What are you doing? Assist me!”
Miss Thavel only stared, saying nothing. Miss Circle frowned and picked up speed again, chasing after Abbie. Abbie’s screams and pleas echoed from where Miss Thavel stood. Then the noise suddenly stopped—followed by the sounds of slashes and stabs. She cringed at the noise, guilt hammering down on her, as she remembered what she had promised to Miss Malum.
She heard small, quiet footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Lana staring at her, terrified. “O-oh, my god…” Lana whimpered, her hands covering her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked at Miss Thavel, her face screaming what she could not yet say: You monster. Miss Thavel felt every ounce of hatred in those eyes.
Miss Circle threw Abbie’s corpse on the ground and began staring at Lana. Lana’s breathing hitched as she screamed and ran. Miss Thavel closed her eyes, drowning out the sounds. Silence. Ringing silence. Pleading. Screaming. Frantic footsteps. She tuned them all out. It’s her fault. She reminded herself. Miss Malum couldn’t blame her, but then why did it still feel like it?
A second later, Miss Circle returned to her side. “You damn coward.” A hard grip latched onto her neck. Miss Thavel let out a strangled growl while holding her neck. “You just stood there.”
Miss Circle tilted her head. “Why?”
Miss Thavel growled, trying to resist her grip. Then she was released from the grip and collapsed onto the floor. She gathered her breath and stood up. “I promised… I promised Abbie’s mom I’d… I wouldn’t…”
Guilt washed over her even more, just as the pain did. Physical pain.
A bash came as the blunt side of Miss Circle’s compass flew into her face. The sound of bone cracking, as she stumbled back. She gasped, holding her cheek. She knew defiant like this would earn her this. She didn’t care, though.
“Oh please,” she said, laughing maniacally.
“Spare me your sudden morals. I do not care if you suddenly grow a conscience about killing. You are what you have always been—a killer. You are a mixed Wendigo; it’s in your blood. Why pretend?”
Miss Circle raised her compass, its sharp side pointed at Miss Thavel, the needle glaring in the school light. Miss Thavel panted, looking at her. Miss Circle studied her compass for a moment, her eyes narrowing. She sighed. “You’re still a valuable asset, though. But that doesn’t mean you can go sparing students. The next time it happens, I will do much worse.”
She started to walk away. “Go clean up your nose too—you look horrible.”
Miss Thavel rubbed her nose, her eyes sliding to her claws and seeing blood. Not from one of the students, but from herself. If she wanted to persevere, she’d have to listen to her.
She was the last of her kind, after all.

***

Miss Thavel woke up in her room.
Surrounded by her bed and walls.
Home.
She sighed a breath of relief. How many more times did she have to relive that memory?
Each time, it only became worse and more haunting.
She looked down at her clothes.
Ragged.
She’d have it looked after. She supposed it was one errand she could do over the weekend.

Chapter Text

Miss Thavel pressed the buzzer, typing in her old friend’s number.
“Who is it?” a static voice said.
“Just an old friend.”
She heard the buzzer buzz and sighed with relief. At least Miss Malum still remembered her voice. She pressed the elevator button, heading to the 6th floor.
When had she last seen Miss Malum? Not since the accident, she supposed.
Miss Malum and she had been friends since high school. While Miss Thavel became a teacher, Miss Malum went into textiles—which was very useful for someone like Miss Thavel, who couldn’t keep her clothes from getting shredded for longer than a day.
Ever since Abbie’s disappearance, Miss Malum hadn’t been herself. Miss Thavel knew she wasn’t responsible for it, but… she had just stood there, watching him desperately trying to get away. She was a damn coward. Watching—
The elevator beeped before she could finish loathing herself, and she stepped out.
Room 612, Room 612, Room 612… she thought to herself. It had been a while since she was last here, but eventually, she found it. She knocked on the door.
“It’s unlocked,” a voice called in response.
She opened the door and saw Miss Malum working on something—beside her were a couple of pill containers.
“You’ve been busy,” Miss Thavel said as a greeting.
Miss Malum rubbed her weary eyes. “Oh yeah, try staying up the entire night…” she muttered.
“What? You got no sleep for the entire night?” Miss Thavel asked, her voice genuinely concerned.
“I… couldn’t if I tried.”
Miss Thavel pointed at the pill containers. “I don’t remember you taking pills,” she said.
Miss Malum gripped the table. “The doctor prescribed them for my trauma. Said they would make me more productive.”
What?
“That isn’t effective—you’re ruining your sleep with it!”
Miss Malum laughed tiredly. “Believe me, it was a problem long before that.”
Jesus…
Miss Thavel rubbed her temples.
Miss Thavel glanced further around the room, letting her eyes wander. All the photos with Abbie seemed to have been taken down.
Miss Malum noticed her stare. “You think they’ll ever find my boy?” Her voice broke.
“I don’t know,” Miss Thavel said.
She didn’t even know how she could face Miss Malum if she ever found out she was a part of it. The guilt would be too great.
Miss Malum wiped her tears, blowing into a tissue and clearing her throat. “I suppose you need me to fix your clothing, right?” she said quietly.
Right. That was the reason she was here. For that.
She had completely forgotten, caught up in all this guilt. She handed Miss Malum her usual attire.
“So, what did you do this time?” Miss Malum asked. “If I may inquire.”
Miss Thavel leaned back in the chair. “Oh, you know, the usual.” She flashed her claws.
Miss Malum’s eyes widened in realization. “Ah.”
She laid down the dress and began her work. “This is a very nice dress for someone who wrecks it all the time. Where’d you get it?”
Miss Thavel’s eyes drifted to the window. “Miss Circle. As a gift.”
It was weird how Miss Circle had given it to her, but she always had to wash it often due to taking care of students. It became very annoying. Of course, she couldn’t tell that to Miss Malum since… Well.
Miss Malum fumbled through her drawers for matching fabrics to stitch it up with.
Miss Malum had always been organized, but after Abbie’s disappearance, she’d been a wreck.
Miss Thavel tried to reassure herself that she hadn’t done this. The others did.
But… why did she still feel guilty?
As Miss Malum finished, Miss Thavel said her gratitude.
Miss Thavel pulled out her wallet. “How much should I pay you?”
Miss Malum smiled, dismissing her wallet. “You don’t need to,” She chuckled, “It’s ok.”
“No, no. I should. You do this for me almost every week.”
“Oh, hush, just go.” Miss Malum smiled.
She smiled back, thanking her again.
But the void feeling of guilt still sat with her even after leaving the apartment.
Murderer.
Psycho.
Freak.
She muttered more swears to herself, pressing her claws onto her hands, cautiously making sure Miss Malum heard none of them, as she followed her out to the elevators.

***

As she went to hang up her coat, she patted around her pockets.
My wallet.
She groaned, grabbing onto her head. It was getting late anyway, she’d have to get it back sometime.

Chapter Text

Unstable patiently waited for a certain someone to get out of school. He tapped his foot, glancing at his phone now and then. There was no way he’d ever enter that school again. After Miss Thavel’s warning, he was scared to think about what the worst teachers were like—or what they could do.
He looked at his phone again, tempted to use it. No. He had already spent too many nights scrolling mindlessly; he didn’t want it to start interfering with his actual life. Besides, this was important. He fought the urge to use his phone to pass the time, knowing it would only make him more likely to lose track of Engel.
He checked the time. 3 o’clock. The bell rang.
A horde of students flooded out of the building. He scanned the crowd, trying to spot one specific person. His eyes flicked toward the pickup spot now and then, making sure Engel wasn’t being picked up by his parents. After what felt like half an hour, he finally saw him.
“Hey.” Unstable started walking toward Engel.
“Unstable?” Engel blinked in surprise. “Were you waiting for me, and where were you all day?”
Unstable shrugged, “I couldn’t come today. I found out about something.”
Engel’s eyes widened as he realized what Unstable was talking about.
Unstable glanced around, checking for any prying eyes. “Let’s talk somewhere private.”
Engle nodded as they walked down the street. “I have a lot to uncover for you. This might take a lot of time.”
“Don’t worry,” Unstable reassured him. “I got all day to talk about it.”

***

Engel closed the door behind them, locking it.
“Who’s the friend you brought home, sweetie?” a voice called out.
Engel glanced toward the stairs. “Just a friend, Mom. I brought him over—if that’s okay,” he said.
Unstable took in his surroundings. The house felt warm and inviting, the soft carpet muffling his footsteps. The fire pit was very warm, in contrast to the harsh, cold rain outside. Engel sat down in a chair and looked at him.
“Start from the beginning.”
So he did.
Unstable recounted the chase with Miss Thavel, explaining how, at the last moment, her conscience overpowered her instincts, and she spared him.
“She… spared you?” Engel looked stunned. Miss Thavel was, if anything, even more sadistic than Miss Circle. It didn’t seem possible.
Unstable shrugged. “She said she wasn’t acting independently and was just following orders. But from whom? And why?”
Engel’s expression darkened. He hesitated before answering. “I don’t know exactly when or why it started, but… at Paper School, students began disappearing after failing a test. At first, I didn’t notice. But then one of my friends, Claire, failed one too. Those maniacs chased her… she tried to escape through a fake exit door. It was Δlice’s door. And…”
Engel trailed off, unable to finish. Even mentioning it filled his eyes with grief.
Unstable felt his chest tighten, feeling pity for the poor student. “Who… are the other teachers?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
“The math teacher and the science teacher.”
Of course. He should have known. Something about them had always felt off.
“What about the police? Can’t they do something?”
Engel let out a defeated sigh. “They don’t have any proof. Nothing can be done. And the teachers threatened me… if I say anything, they’ll…”
He shuddered, unable to voice the consequences.
Unstable sat in silence, thinking. Then something clicked.
“Aren’t there cameras all over Paper School?”
Engel’s eyes widened. “The cameras…? They usually only keep the footage for cases of mischief, but… that might actually work.”
His face fell again. “But Miss Grace will never agree to hand it over. She won’t believe us.”
Unstable leaned forward, deep in thought. “Hmmm. What if we cause a distraction and sneak into her office?”
Engel huffed. “You know we’ll get into big trouble, and we won’t just get detention right?”
Engle’s eyes flickered everywhere in the room before finally sighing.
“If this is our only shot. So be it. For Claire.” He smiled.
Unstable smiles back. “If we’re going to do this, we’ll need to plan things out.”

Chapter Text

Vance couldn’t stand him. That bastard. Oliver.
He always bullied those weaker than him—people he knew wouldn’t fight back. He’d strut around with his buddies, acting like he was untouchable. And, of course, the teachers loved him. Why wouldn’t they?
Vance clenched his jaw. He couldn’t stand him at all.
At the lunch table, he stared at nothing, lost in his thoughts, his anger simmering.
“Dude. Dude?”
Vance blinked and looked at Ferra before glancing down at his lunch. A Terra walnut bread sandwich with spam meat. Not great. But Mac didn’t have it any better—his lunch was just leftover Kraft Dinner. It was obvious neither of their parents could cook.
“Still thinking about Oliver?” Ferra asked.
Right on the mark.
Vance grumbled in agreement. He stabbed his food, the squishing noise barely registering.
He wanted Oliver gone. Out of this school. That was the only thing standing between him and meeting Δlice.
But how?
He was still stuck on that part.

***

Vance tapped his pen against the desk. Click. Click. Click.
Then, something clicked in his mind, too.
A grin spread across his face as he pushed himself away from the table and headed outside.
The bell clanged when he stepped into the convenience store. He made his way to the shelves, grabbed a pack, and brought it to the cashier.
The old man behind the counter eyed him suspiciously. “You do realize you can’t buy these, right?”
Vance smirked. “They’re not for me.”
The man raised an eyebrow but sighed. “Take ‘em. I don’t care. Just pay for ‘em, alright?”
Vance slid a twenty onto the counter. “Thanks, pal.”
He walked out, shoving the pack deep into his pocket, a smug look on his face.
Tomorrow, he’d unwrap his plans.

***

Vance strolled up to the table where Oliver sat.
Oliver paused mid-conversation with one of his friends, his expression souring. “What do you want?” he hissed.
Vance smiled. “Can’t I talk to a friend and apologize?”
Oliver snorted, his friends chuckling along with him. “You’re lying, prick.”
But Vance didn’t falter. “No, really. I am sorry. I mean it.”
Oliver stiffened slightly as if he hadn’t expected that. “That was probably the most half-assed apology ever. But… I’ll accept it. I’m sorry too, I guess.”
Vance glanced down, subtly slipping something in. “I’m glad we both agree on something.” He patted Oliver’s shoulder.
Oliver glared at him. “Don’t do that.”
Vance just smirked and turned away, making his way toward the teacher, Miss Bloomie.
“Miss, may I go to the bathroom?”
Miss Bloomie barely looked up. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Go ahead.”
Vance flashed a smile. “Thank you, Miss.”

***

The bell rang over the speakers, followed by a harsh voice echoing through the hallways and classrooms.
"Oliver, please come see me in my office."
Oliver groaned as he got up from his chair, clenching his fists as he made his way to the principal’s office.
When he entered, he immediately noticed Vance sitting two seats in front of Miss Grace’s desk, smirking.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” Miss Grace said, her voice as cold as ever.
Oliver shot Vance a sharp glare. You did something, didn’t you?
Vance’s smirk only widened.
“Vance has informed me that you have something you’re not supposed to,” Miss Grace stated.
Oliver frowned, confused. “What? I’ve never brought anything bad!” he protested, his frustration clear.
“Of course, I’m reasonable,” Miss Grace replied calmly. “Show me the inside of your backpack.”
Oliver scoffed, grabbing his bag and passing it over.
Miss Grace rummaged through it, then suddenly stopped. Her eyes flickered with recognition as she pulled out the item.
Cigarettes.
Oliver’s heart plummeted.
“T-those aren’t mine!”
Miss Grace remained unfazed. “Stay where you are, Oliver. I’m calling your parents.”
Oliver stood there in stunned disbelief before turning his icy stare to Vance. You.
Vance simply grinned.
“You bastard!” Oliver shot up from his seat, rage boiling over. “YOU SET ME UP! YOU SLIPPED THE CONTRABAND INTO MY BACKPACK! YOU—”
“Sit down, Oliver.”
Miss Grace’s voice sent a chill down his spine.
Grinding his teeth, Oliver dropped back into his seat, fists clenched.
“Your parents will be picking you up,” Miss Grace continued. “I’ve already informed them about this incident.” She turned to Vance. “You are dismissed. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
Vance stood, tipped his hat, and leaned in just enough to whisper something before leaving.
"You deserved it."

***

Vance took a deep breath.
This could be life or death.
Probably a death wish.
He gripped the handle of Δlice’s door, hesitated for just a second, then turned it. The door creaked open, revealing the cold, damp room beyond.
"What are you doing here?"
A chilling voice echoed around him.
Vance lazily grinned. “I heard your boyfriend has been expelled.”
From the shadows, Δlice emerged, her cautious eyes locking onto him.
“Yes… It’s quite a shame,” she sighed.
Vance smirked. “Guess that means you’re single, huh?”
Δlice blinked—then burst out laughing.
“I was going to murder you,” she admitted between fits of laughter, “but…” Her laughter continued, cold and sharp. “You are very bold. And quite amusing.”
Vance’s eyes lit up with hope.
Δlice tilted her head, considering something, then reached out and patted his head.
“I will give you a chance—just for your courage.”
Vance barely held back a relieved exhale.
What a story he’d have to tell his friends.

Chapter Text

Miss Circle sat at her desk, her fingers drumming lightly against the surface. Stress clouded her mind. Miss Thavel said she had done her part—but she refused to show the body or provide any evidence. Why was that?
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, lost in thought, when she felt a sudden tug.
“Ambush snuggle!”
She barely had time to react before Mister Compass wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a playful embrace.
She isn’t as reactive as she usually is, but it had seemed to distract her less.
“Ah! Compass!” she shrieked, half-laughing, half-protesting. “S-stop! I’m busy!”
“Aww, but I hate seeing you all grumpy like that…” He squeezed her tighter. “My girl won’t be spared by the cuddling bandits until she cheers up!”
His ridiculous, over-the-top ideas for making her feel better were always so silly. So him. No matter how dumb or thoughtful they were, she loved him for it.
“Okay, okay! Get off! I’m much better now, thanks to you.” She grinned.
Mister Compass finally released her, satisfied that his strategy had once again worked.
Wanting to keep him busy, she decided to give him something to do. “Did you clean your room?”
Mister Compass scoffed. “Pfft, my room is always clean! Like I’ve never even touched it!”
That was true—his room was always spotless. Immaculate. Almost as if… he never really used it.
The rest of the house, though? A complete disaster. But she didn’t mind.
She stood up, wandering through the house in search of her phone. Where did I leave it?
First, she checked the bedroom.
Nothing.
Strange.
She searched the living room, the bathroom—nowhere.
Finally, she found it sitting on the kitchen counter.
Her brow furrowed. I don’t remember putting it here.
“Compass!” she called out.
“Yeah?” came his voice from the other room.
“Did you move my phone?”
“Uh… no?”
She paused.
Her fingers tightened around the device.
Was someone messing with her?
For a brief moment, an uneasy feeling washed over her.
Then she brushed it off and went to clean the floors.

Chapter Text

Engel waited near the janitor’s stall, glancing around for any sign of Unstable. This was the best place to meet—no cameras, no nosy students, and the janitor wouldn’t be here until after lunch.
Finally, Unstable arrived, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He unzipped it, and Engel’s eyes immediately widened with concern.
“…That’s a concerning amount of fireworks,” he muttered.
Unstable shrugged. “Yeah, but this will definitely get their attention.”
Engel didn’t even bother asking where Unstable got enough fireworks to make the Fourth of July look like a birthday candle. Instead, he sighed and focused on the plan.
“Alright, here’s how we do this. You set off the fireworks in the school trash can. While everyone is distracted by the chaos, I’ll sneak into the office and grab the footage.”
Engel exhaled. “This could go wrong in so many ways.”
Unstable clapped him on the back. “Well, let’s hope for the best, eh?”

***

Miss Thavel glanced at the clock, tapping her foot as Engel still wasn’t back in his seat. Where was that boy? She looked back at the clock’s long hand. It was mere centimeters away from hitting lunchtime. Engel was a good student, so why wasn’t he here yet?
She heard panting as a student ran back. “Well? Did you find him?” Her eyes rose.
Octo panted. “No, I couldn’t find him anywhere,” he said, heavy breaths between each word.
She sighed, a bit disappointed, but he had tried. “Alright, you may head back to your seat.”
Miss Thavel waited a few more minutes, then the bell rang. She muttered a swear under her breath—she was going to give Engel a lot of crap about this when he came back. At least it wasn’t her problem anymore.
She walked out, high heels clinking on the smooth surface.
“Hey.”
She stopped in her tracks and looked behind her.
“Oh, hey, Miss Circle.”
She waited as Miss Circle got closer. Once she did, they resumed walking, Miss Circle following.
Miss Circle let out a heavy breath. “I didn’t have enough time to pack my lunch today.”
Miss Thavel lifted an eyebrow in interest. “Oh, yeah?”
“When you only have one normal arm, packing a lunch is very hard.”
Miss Thavel hummed in agreement. “But… don’t you have Mister Compass to help you?” she asked.
Miss Circle scoffed. “Are you kidding? That slacker never helps me.”
Then, as if she’d heard some sort of back talk, she muttered to her compass, “Oh, shut up, you.”
Miss Thavel frowned in confusion. “Who are you… talking to?”
They both stopped walking.
Miss Circle only mirrored her confusion. “Mister Compass. You don’t hear him?”
Miss Thavel chuckled nervously, trying to keep the situation from escalating. “Mister Compass… is an actual compass?”
“He has a human form, too,” Miss Circle added.
Just as Miss Thavel was about to break the hard truth to her, someone started yelling her name.
“Thavel!”
A wave of relief washed over Miss Thavel as they were now distracted. She turned to the source and saw Miss Malum.
“Who is… she?” Miss Circle asked.
“A friend,” Miss Thavel said quietly.
Miss Malum waved a wallet in her hand.
My wallet.
A small laugh came from Miss Malum. “You left this at my apartment when you left.”
Miss Thavel took her wallet. “Why are you here? I mean—why come now?”
“Well, I was driving near your place, so I thought, might as well.” Miss Malum shrugged.
“Thanks…”
Before Miss Circle could mouth another word, a loud bang went off.
“What the hell?” Miss Circle looked down the hallway.
The three of them ran over to investigate. Many others had also heard it and started following the noise. Murmuring erupted as they saw a fury of bright colors and sparks.
Fireworks?
Just as they were about to reach the source, it went off again.
Miss Thavel felt a cold arm on hers, yanking her back. She followed Miss Circle’s gaze.
Her heart stopped.
Unstable?
He noticed their glances and ran.
Miss Circle turned to her with eyes even angrier than the night she had murdered those two students.
Dread loomed over Miss Thavel helplessly.
She had disobeyed her.
A cold, raspy voice came out. “Why is he still alive?”
Miss Thavel couldn’t answer.
Miss Circle was shaking violently with rage. And with that, she ran after him like hell.
Miss Thavel tried to follow but couldn’t keep up.
She called after her. “WAIT, WAIT!”
Miss Circle didn’t listen. Her blind, raging mind was focused on one thing: finishing what she had started.
Teachers and students alike saw her running after Unstable. She wasn’t even pretending anymore. She was dead set on killing him.
Miss Thavel’s legs couldn’t keep up. Each breath became more ragged the longer she ran.
Unstable slipped, tripping onto the hard school floors.
His fate was practically sealed.
“That useless brat spared you, but don’t worry. After I’m done with you, I’ll have a word with her.”
Unstable saw Miss Circle looming over him like death itself.
He lifted his forearm, closing his eyes as she raised her compass and swung.
He waited for the strike.
It never came.
He looked up, and his heart dropped in astonishment.
Miss Thavel had stopped the blow.
She panted, staggering slightly. How the hell was Engel able to hold back her compass? She was barely holding on, herself.
Miss Circle pulled back.
“You traitor. You filthy. Little. Traitor.”
The words pelted her like small rocks.
“I should have killed you when I knew you had that bleeding heart back when I slaughtered Abbie and Lana while you stood back.”
She heard a small gasp of disbelief.
Miss Malum’s voice was barely a whisper. “W-what?”
A small voice, desperately trying not to sob.
Miss Thavel could feel every bit of Miss Malum’s heart breaking.
Guilt and regret washed over her. The memories flooded back.
Miss Circle’s crooked smile only widened as she realized who she was speaking to.
The mother of Abbie.
She laughed, all sanity abandoning her.
“I relished every moment of his suffering, licking my bloodied lips after each swing. Until his screaming completely stopped.”
Miss Malum fell to her knees.
“T-Thavel…” She looked up at her.
“Why?”
Miss Thavel couldn’t even bear to look at her.
She sobbed through her breath.
“I’m sorry.”
That was all she could manage before Miss Circle’s foot connected with her stomach, knocking her to the ground.
“Get out of my way.”
Miss Circle’s growl commanded her to stand down.
Miss Thavel stumbled but forced herself back up. She lunged for Miss Circle, her claws slashing across her skin.
Miss Circle staggered back, assessing the damage. She rubbed at her face, surprised.
Then she laughed, even more psychotically than before.
“You finally grew a spine.”
Miss Thavel’s lungs were overworked.
“You’re a spineless coward, you know that? Killing kids who don’t even stand a chance, just to feel a little bit of power.”
Miss Circle laughed at her insult.
“Like you’re any better, you wretch. You were a part of every killing.”
“Shut up.” She snapped.
A razor blade went zooming past her. She ducked.
But it wasn’t aimed at her.
It was aimed at—
“MALUM!”
She clenched the blade, mere inches from Miss Malum’s face.
Miss Malum’s breathing was no less erratic than hers.
Miss Bloomie growled in frustration, having missed her shot.
Miss Circle capitalized on the opportunity and swung.
Miss Thavel blocked the needle before it could pierce her skull and dragged her claws across Miss Circle’s chest.
Miss Circle cried out in pain.
She retaliated, slamming her compass into Miss Thavel’s skull.
The force sent her reeling. Adrenaline kicked in.
Miss Bloomie leaped at her for a surprise attack—only to be quickly grabbed.
She struggled, desperately trying to rip Miss Thavel’s arms off her.
“Let go,” she hissed.
Miss Thavel let out a small laugh.
“Fine.”
She yanked Miss Bloomie and flung her toward a door.
Alice’s door.
Miss Thavel’s breath hitched.
Oh shit.
Oh shit, oh shit.
Miss Bloomie crashed into the door.
She got up and realized just how doomed they were.
Miss Circle froze.
For the first time in a long time, Miss Thavel saw real fear in her eyes.
Miss Thavel swallowed.
“Miss Bloomie… get away from the door.”
Miss Bloomie silently nodded and cautiously stepped away from the door.
Spikes erupted from the floor, like thorns sprouting from a rose.
Miss Circle cursed. “MISS BLOOMIE!”
And then, there she was.
The prince of malice herself.
Δlice.
A small, sinister chuckle escaped her lips.
Miss Bloomie slid onto the floor. Δlice’s tendrils wasted no time wrapping around her.
Miss Circle screamed, rushing toward her.
Miss Thavel turned back to Unstable.
“Go,” she ordered.
Unstable stuttered.
“GO, DAMN IT!”
But he wouldn’t leave her.
She growled and sprinted toward the other teachers to help. She lunged at Δlice—only to be slammed into the wall by a tendril.
Miss Circle walked toward her, smiling.
Miss Thavel looked up, her breathing unsteady.
“Here I thought you would abandon us, traitor.”
Miss Thavel sighed, managing a weak chuckle. “Well, yeah… maybe I do have some faith.”
Miss Circle extended a hand toward her.
Miss Thavel’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Get up.”
She gritted her teeth as Miss Circle helped her to her feet.
“Let’s go put the princess back in her room.”
Miss Bloomie struggled, slashing at the tendrils binding her. She finally struck a hit and tried to run, but Δlice quickly recoiled her tendrils—before being torn apart by Miss Circle’s compass.
Δlice grunted. “Damn you teachers!”
A blade shot past her, grazing her cheek.
She sucked her teeth as blood trickled down. Wiping it away, she lunged at Miss Bloomie.
Miss Bloomie saw her coming and tried to dodge—only to feel tendrils tightening around her feet.
She looked down, horrified, just as Δlice’s fury struck.
Claws gleamed in the dim light, tearing a deep chunk of flesh from her leg.
She screamed in agony, pain overriding everything.
Miss Thavel flinched at the sight of her injury.
Miss Circle stabbed at Δlice, forcing her back. Miss Bloomie crawled away, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.
Then she felt her body being lifted.
It wasn’t tendrils.
It was—
Miss Thavel.
Miss Bloomie tried to speak, but Miss Thavel hushed her, her voice unusually calm given the chaos around them.
“Hey, hey. Relax. It’s me.”
Miss Bloomie sighed in relief. Her eyelids felt so heavy.
Fear crept into Miss Thavel’s chest.
“No, no. C’mon, Bloom, stay with me.”
Her voice wavered. She was terrified of losing her.
Miss Bloomie chuckled weakly. “You never call me that.”
Her voice was breaking.
Her eyes were closing.
“NO—HEY—DAMN IT! STAY WITH ME! I— I SWEAR, I’LL NEVER CALL YOU SHORT AGAIN!”
The desperation in Miss Thavel’s voice was heartbreaking.
Miss Bloomie shivered, parting her lips.
“Thavel.”
Miss Thavel’s body stiffened.
Tears rolled down her face.
“Y-yeah?”
“Can you… Lay me somewhere softer?”
Miss Thavel nodded sadly. “Sure thing. I—I can do that.”
Her mother had once told her that, at some point, she’d have to stop crying.
But nothing could have prepared her for this.
She was more vulnerable than she had ever been.
She carried Miss Bloomie to the staff room, laid her on the couch, and pulled out a blanket to cover her.
“Stay here, okay?”
“Mmm…” A weak moan escaped Miss Bloomie’s lips.
“I have… one regret.”
Tears and blood streaked her cheeks.
“Yeah?” Miss Thavel asked, voice broken.
“D-doing this. It ruined my life… and now I’ll die because of it.”
“Ironic,” she muttered.
She laughed softly—then winced at the pain in her stomach and fell silent.
Miss Bloomie’s eyes found Miss Thavel’s.
“If you… make it out of this…”
Miss Thavel held her hand, a tight grasp on it.
“Promise me you’ll… change.”
Tears slipped down Miss Thavel’s face.
“I’ll—I’ll try.”
Miss Bloomie’s eyes finally shut.
Miss Thavel leaned in, desperate for a sign.
Her breath hitched.
And then—
A heartbeat.

Chapter Text

The tendril slammed into the wall, barely missing Miss Circle.
Every time it came close to striking her, she parried, deflecting it. But time was running out. Each movement grew sloppier, slower.
She was exhausted.
She knew a hit would land eventually.
She just had to hold out a little longer—for Miss Thavel.
Goddamn it, where are you, Wendigo?
A tendril shot toward her chest, mere inches away from skewering her like a kebab. She swung back, but Δlice dodged effortlessly.
“You’re getting sloppy, Circle,” Δlice grinned.
“Yeah?” Miss Circle panted. “Freak.”
A tendril lashed toward her head. She closed her eyes.
She knew it was hopeless.
Maybe Miss Thavel wasn’t coming back.
Her body tensed as she braced for the inevitable.
Then—
Δlice screamed.
Miss Circle’s eyes snapped open.
She heard a ragged breath.
Miss Thavel.
Miss Thavel held the tendril back, straining to keep it from striking her.
“Took you long enough,” Miss Circle said, relieved.
Seizing the moment, she lunged at Δlice while she was distracted. A direct hit.
Δlice stumbled back, hissing in pain.
“Run.”
Miss Thavel nodded and bolted. She could hear Δlice right behind them, giving chase.
She slammed the doors shut behind her—right in Δlice’s face.
A furious pounding followed. The force shook the doors, screws flying loose. The window shattered, glass raining onto the floor.
She swore.
They raced up the stairs, legs burning with every step. Each footfall was panicked, rushed.
Through the hallways.
Then—
A distant siren.
The police?
Δlice growled, her claws retracting. A thick puff of smoke rose where she stood.
Gone.
Miss Circle collapsed to the ground, panting. The threat was finally over.
Then—
“Freeze!”
Her body stiffened.
Slowly, she raised her head. Nothing but lockers and an empty hallway.
She exhaled.
She left.
A chuckle.
Laughter bubbled up, uncontrollable.
Well done, Wendigo. Well done.
Still grinning, she slowly stood up, raising her hands in surrender.

Chapter Text

Unstable couldn’t be happier. The police had arrived. Δlice’s reign of terror was over.
The principal surveyed the damage.
Miss Circle was being taken away.
Miss Bloomie had to be carried out on a stretcher.
Then, Engel finally reappeared.
“I—I…”
Unstable smiled. “How did you do it?”
Engel looked at the school, still reeling from Δlice’s destruction.
“While you and the teachers were too busy fighting, I snuck into the office. Sent all the video footage to the police.” Unstable laughed. “Man, I thought I was a goner.”
“So, what now?” Engel asked.
“Hmm?”
“Will you keep attending school?”
Unstable looked around one last time.
“I guess.” He shrugged.
“Hm.” Engel smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then, the speakers crackled to life.
“Attention all students… school has been…” The slight hesitation cracked in her voice. “...dismissed for reasons. Uh… enjoy your Friday.”
Unstable took a deep breath and walked home, the fresh air filling his lungs.

Chapter Text

The only noise in her isolated room was the quiet beeping of the Holter monitor reading her heartbeat. She let out a quiet hiss, waking up in pain.
Miss Bloomie looked down at her leg and saw bandages wrapped tightly around it, along with a brace. She scanned the room and noticed a shadowy figure standing nearby. As it stepped into the dim light, her eyes watered.
“Miss Thavel?”
Thavel nodded as she walked closer to the bed.
“H-how did you get in? Aren’t you wanted?”
Miss Thavel shrugged. “I snuck in. We’ll see how long I can keep up this chase.” She grinned.
She pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, watching her. “Came to check on you since they’ll be taking you to prison after this.”
Miss Bloomie let out a tired breath. “Yeah. I know.”
She tried shifting to get more comfortable, but pain shot through her body. She let out a quiet noise of agony and immediately stopped.
“You… okay?” Miss Thavel asked, for once, sounding genuinely concerned.
Bloomie frowned. “No, idiot, I feel like shit.”
Miss Thavel roared with laughter. Miss Bloomie managed a small chuckle, too.
After a pause, she spoke again. “Hey, Thavel?”
Miss Thavel glanced at her. “Yeah?”
Miss Bloomie turned her gaze to the window, staring into the darkness of the night. The moon shone brightly against the scattered stars.
“Do you believe… people can change?”
Thavel let out a small breath. “I asked that same question once.”
Miss Bloomie’s eyes rose with curiosity. “Oh?”
“I was told that people can change—if they truly believe in themselves and try.”
Miss Bloomie considered her words for a moment. “Hmm. Huh.” She smiled faintly. “Do you think you and I will?”
Miss Thavel took her time before answering, choosing her words carefully. “I think so. I think the mistakes we’ve made shape us into better people—if we let them.”
Miss Bloomie hummed in agreement.
A sudden movement caught Miss Thavel’s eye. A doctor was now standing at the doorway, watching her cautiously.
“Excuse me, ma’am. It’s after hours. Please go—”
Miss Thavel flashed her claws. “A few more minutes, please?”
The doctor took a step back. “A-alright…” He hesitated before slowly retreating and closing the door behind him.
Miss Bloomie sighed. “I’ll probably be in prison for the rest of my life, but… I think I’ve made peace with that. Some sort of payment for everything I’ve done. I—I probably deserved worse.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
Miss Thavel shook her head. “Bloomie, you were just a person influenced by all the wrong things. It’s over now.”
Miss Bloomie exhaled shakily. “The doctor said the damage was bad. I don’t know if I’ll ever walk again.”
“Will you get prosthetics?” Thavel asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know yet. Maybe. But I doubt I’ll be able to afford them.”
Miss Thavel stood up from the bedside.
“Leaving so soon?” Miss Bloomie whined.
“Well, that doctor looked at me funny. I think he recognized me. So I’d rather not overstay my welcome.”
She walked over to the window, opening it. A cold breeze rushed in. Bloomie shivered.
“Don’t leave that open, please.”
Miss Thavel glanced back and smiled. “Don’t worry.”
And with that, she leaped off the balcony. A loud crash followed. Garbage bags, probably.
It was definitely a grand escape.
Security flooded into the room. “Where is she, damn it?!”
Miss Bloomie shrugged. “Who?”

***

Miss Circle had finally been caught.
She always knew this day would come, so she wasn’t surprised when it did. She had deserved it. At least the people who prayed for her downfall could finally have some closure.
The door to the small room creaked open. A man stepped inside, dressed in pristine white, like freshly fallen snow. A psychiatrist, probably, she thought.
She crossed her arms. “Are you the guy who talks to me and tries to make me ‘normal’? Or…”
He pulled out a pen. “No. I’m the one who assesses your mental state.”
She leaned back, unimpressed. “Well, I already know everything that’s wrong with me, so why go over it again?”
He sighed and scribbled something down.
Miss Circle frowned, watching him. “So you’re aware that your morals are… psychologically skewed?”
She smiled, absentmindedly examining her nails. “Yup.”
“And you’re aware you have schizophrenia?”
The grin instantly faded from her face.
“Schizo…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze flickered toward her compass, locked away in an evidence box. ”…phrenia?”
That’s a new one.
The psychiatrist glanced at his notes. “If I recall from your tax records, you claimed to live with your boyfriend. Compass, right?”
She nodded.
He inhaled deeply. “He’s not… alive. No one has been living with you for years.”
A sharp sting hit Miss Circle’s chest. No. That— That had to be wrong.
“But I’ve been with him for years—”
The man gave her a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Miss Circle. But he’s really been gone for that long. It’s… unfortunate that this is how you unknowingly committed tax fraud, though.”
Miss Circle broke down in tears. “But he feels so real—his touch—”
“I know how it feels,” the psychiatrist said gently. “Schizophrenia can create voices, illusions… It’s common.”
Her world cracked apart.
“I’ll assign you medication for it, okay?”
She nodded, hollow and grim. He really wasn’t alive. He never had been.
The psychiatrist’s voice pulled her back. “Do you think it could have played a part in your… behavior?”
Miss Circle looked up, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
The doctor jotted something down.
That night, she hardly slept. She tossed and turned in her cold, dimly lit cell. He was dead? The thought gnawed at her, never relenting.
Then, in the pitch-black silence, she heard it.
A soft, familiar hum.
Mister Compass.
He stepped forward, his silhouette forming in the dark. “Man, those guards were real handsy with me—like they thought I was smuggling contraband. Where? Up my ass?”
Any other day, she would have laughed. Any other day, she would have smiled. He had always brightened her day.
But now, there was nothing.
She lay there, unmoving, staring at the ceiling.
He sighed and sat at the edge of her bed. “So. The jig’s up, huh?”
Miss Circle nodded slowly. “You’re not… real, are you?”
Mister Compass looked hurt.
“What am I to you, Miss Circle?”
She stayed silent.
“An illusion of your insanity?”
“A loved one?”
“Your boyfriend?”
“The person you always clung to?”
She still didn’t answer.
“What am I now, really?” His voice softened. “Just… a figment of imagination? A desperate mind trying to rationalize someone’s death?”
Mister Compass sighed.
“When I…” He hesitated. ”…When he died, jeez, Miss Circle, you were a mess. You couldn’t function for days. You cried every night, hoping he’d still be lying in bed next to you.”
He tilted his head. “A part of your brain took pity on you. So you denied it. You moved to a new town. A new school.”
“Paper School,” she muttered.
“And, like nothing had ever happened, you were happy. Content.”
Mister Compass smiled faintly. “You were living a lie, but I didn’t want to break the illusion. I didn’t want you to suffer again. So… a little part of you lied. To protect you. To keep you strong.”
Miss Circle sobbed.
It all made sense.
Why Mister Compass never wanted photos—because he couldn’t be in them.
Why the KitKats in the cabinet were barely touched—because she was the only one eating them.
His room was always cleaned because he never used it.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. Tears fell freely now.
Mister Compass sighed and walked closer. He stroked her hair.
She sobbed harder, grabbing onto him desperately.
He let out a quiet grunt as she clung to him. He felt real.
He rubbed her back. “It’s alright. At least now… I’ll never be gone again.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Shhh…”

***

The cold glass pressed against Unstable’s fingers, condensation dripping onto the counter. He sighed, taking another long swig before slamming the bottle down.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, still wiping down a glass. “That’s your tenth one.”
Unstable groaned. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
The bartender hesitated, then asked, “Someone taking you home?”
Unstable waved a lazy hand. “Yeah. My, uh—sister. Just waiting for her.”
The bartender studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Ah.” He slowly moved on to another patron. “Safe travels, friend.”
Unstable barely paid attention, lost in the numbing warmth of alcohol. That was, until—
A chair shifted beside him.
“Hey.”
A soft voice. Familiar.
Unstable groaned, his frown deepening. “I’m not buying drinks for any ladies tonight, so help me—” He turned, ready to brush them off—
And froze.
Miss Thavel?
She chuckled, her lips curling into that same knowing smirk. “You look older. Have you finished university yet?”
A small, weary smile crept onto Unstable’s face. “You haven’t changed much. Still mesmerizing me.”
Her smile faltered. A hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. She sighed.
“Listen… you and I…”
Unstable leaned in slightly, eyes wide, clinging to the moment.
“I think you know that we… can’t be together.”
The words struck harder than any physical blow she could have landed. His breath hitched. The dull warmth of alcohol did nothing to soften the pain.
“I’m wanted by a lot of people,” she continued. “I have to stay low. I don’t want you caught up in what my life has spiraled into.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m… sorry.”
His fingers trembled as he wiped at his eyes. “I… I understand.”
She reached for his hand, her touch gentle, almost hesitant. He clutched onto it, just for a moment.
Then she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.
A flood of memories rushed in—old moments, stolen glances, conversations whispered in the dark. A connection that could never be.
And then, just like that—she stood up.
Each step of her high heels clicked against the floor, fading into the distance.
Unstable sat there, motionless, staring at the spot where she had been.
A few moments later, his sister arrived.
“Alright,” Fem said, clapping a hand on his back. “You owe me for this.”
He exhaled shakily and stood up, leaning against her for support.
She glanced at him. “You look different. What happened?”
He tilted his head, his voice quieter than before. “Saw an old… acquaintance.”
Fem hummed. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it in the car.”
Unstable only nodded, letting himself be led out of the bar.

***

Miss Malum was always a night owl, but for some reason, tonight she was extremely tired. A noise stirred, and she looked up. Nothing. It was nothing. Perhaps this was the result of sleeping only six hours last night, though that was an improvement over her previous attempts. She rubbed her eyes.
And then Miss Thavel appeared. She flinched. “You know, you should really be getting more sleep.” Miss Malum looked at herself and sighed. “You’re right.”
Miss Thavel sat down. “When… Abbie was killed that day, I… failed you. I’m sorry.”
Miss Malum stopped her sewing machine and looked at her. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t do it yourself.” She gazed at her more deeply. “Do you still… do it?”
Miss Thavel blinked, taking a moment to realize what she meant. “Ever since Abbie’s death, I haven’t taken a single life.” Her eyes watered. “H-honestly?”
She nodded, a sad smile appearing on her face. “Your boy was… a good person. I liked him. It was just unfortunate that he was in the wrong place. He could’ve lived a good life, the way you raised him.”
Miss Malum wiped away her tears. “T-thank you…”
Miss Thavel looked at her weary eyes. “Go to sleep.”
“I can’t. I have to finish this by tomorrow—” She closed her mouth.
“Tomorrow can wait. Just sleep, hm?”
She reluctantly listened, her eyes slowly closing as she rested her head on the table. She fell asleep incredibly fast.
Miss Thavel smiled as she lifted her to the couch and placed a blanket over her resting body. Quietly, she slipped out the window into the cold night.

***

Prison was what she had expected: cold, damp, and cruel. Miss Circle couldn’t ask for more. She knew she’d spend the rest of her life here; the fact that they didn’t just execute her was surprising, given the unforgivable crimes she’d committed. She had become much softer—more caring. Her sadistic nature seemed to be decaying. She supposed those rehab programs really worked.
She wasn’t even sure why she participated, knowing she’d be rotting here forever, so there was no point in practicing to become a functional member of society. But the people were nice—kind, forgiving. All the things Miss Circle was the opposite of.
The warden walked in, unlocking her cell. The keys jingled with every little shake he made. “Get out. You’ve got a visitor.” A visitor? That was a surprise she hadn’t expected. Who was it? Who in the world had enough to care for her, to visit her? She sat down, waiting to see who it was.
Miss Grace. She crossed her arms. “Yeah?”
Miss Grace sighed. “Despite your well-known actions, I’ve struck a deal with the government. Have you seen the news?”
Miss Circle raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have access to any news.”
Miss Grace sighed again. “War is coming. It seems Uncle Sam doesn’t fancy our country so much anymore.” She looked back at Miss Circle. “And you have experience in combat, right? They’ve pardoned you to teach at a local military school, fire handling and safety. Can you do that?”
Miss Circle raised her eyes in surprise. “I’ll take any opportunity I can get.”
Miss Grace grinned. “That’s fantastic. You’ll be notified when you start.”