There once was a teacher, and she was very proud of her students. They were all very attentive, with their straight backs and unwavering gaze.
One day, a new student came to the class. The teacher introduced her, and directed her to sit behind Jonny.
The teacher then nailed her hands to the desk, her feet to the chair legs, her shoulders and neck to the back of the chair, and her mouth shut.
Ah, perfect. Her class was so perfect. If only the police would stop searching for her. Besides, the stench in the classroom was enough to send her into a daze. A few students left each day, and every day there was a newcomer. It was a delicate dance that couldn't be interrupted.
But it was. The radio crackled from the back of the room, disrupting today's lesson.
This is the FBI. We have gathered information about the recent child murders. The suspect is a sadistic 40 year old woman who kidnapps and murders children daily. Parents, please keep your children inside or under supervision at all times. And to the suspect, we are close.
We will catch you.
YOU ARE READING
Macabre
Horrormacabre /adjective/: disturbing and horrifying because of involvement with or depiction of death and injury A series of short stories that could only be described as macabre. Some ideas are not my own, but all of these are my own writings.
