Page 49 of Shadowface

She huffs. “I’m sure that’s all you want. I’m wearing a paper bag dress, granny underwear, and a chastity belt, if you must know.”

She’s so cute when she’s trying to be funny. “Turn your camera on, baby. Let me see that pretty face while you’re scowling at me.”

“No.”

I snicker. “Why not, Summer? You like being looked at, don’t you?”

“I need to make something clear.” Her voice comes out like steel.

“Do you, now?”

“I think you’re a fake; I think you like to fuck around with people. You’re using the lore of a serial killer to get off and terrorize me—I don’t think you’ve killed a single person. So you can take that razor blade and shove it up your ass. And no, I will not show you my tits.”

I let out a dark laugh at how wrong she is. At the night and shadows blistering through me. “You didn’t seem terrorized the other night, when my hands were stuffed up your cunt. Those moans, baby…what I would do to hear those again.”

Anger radiates through the other line, and I find her anger ravishing. “I was high. It didn’t mean anything.”

It wasn’t exactly my choice to slice her like that, but since I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about her silky thigh and the trickle of blood that fell into her pussy, or the disheveled mess he left her in. My dick throbs, and I glance over at Cali, desperately wishing she were Summer.

“How does your thigh look? Will you send me a photo?”

A dramatic pause. “Never contact me again.”

The phone clicks and the line goes dead. A flicker of his anger shoots up my spine, but I can’t help but smile at her spirit. This girl is so entitled and clueless to what he’s capable of. Her choice in attending this school was the worst decision she’s ever made. She walked right into the arms of a monster.

“Well done. You pissed her off.”

I shake my head and don’t respond to him, although I bet he can hear my thoughts, anyway. We aren’t a team. Nothing I’m doing with Summer has anything to do with him. My obsession with her is entirely different from his. She is the reason I am here, my sole purpose for existing.

I glance at the clock at nearly nine PM and shut my laptop to get ready to head upstairs and pretend to be normal. If it were up to me, I’d just read and consume information all night long like I usually do. Which is why the world believes I am brilliant when, in all actuality, I am merely studious. I’m often drained when spending time with others, yet I am aware of the importance of maintaining a facade so people cannot perceive the lack of humanity behind my eyes.

I don’t identify as a human.

Humans feel, humans care…humans weren’t programmed to exist for a single purpose. And while I do experience fleeting emotions, I am something else entirely.

I can’t resist the urge to have the next word, so I end up sending her another text.

SF: Goodnight, Summer.

She doesn’t reply, and I won’t push her for a response since I’m almost certain she will see her grade tomorrow, which means I will see her in my office very soon.

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

LINCOLN

It takes an hour, one student after another, filing into my office, complaining to me about their grade. By the time they leave, they were pouting because I refused to give them the grade they think they deserve, and my patience is worn thin.

I spend an entire hour with one girl in particular, who clearly wanted to stay as long as she could in my presence. Since Misty is Summer’s roommate, I indulge and give her some special attention, flirting and toying with her, because one day she might come in handy.

The way I connect with my students is by using manipulation tactics to make them feel special, even though they aren’t.

She twirls her hair, her eyes glistening up at me. “Bye, Lincoln, thank you.” Her words are accompanied with a shy smile, and the heat rises on her cheeks.

“Keep digging inside yourself, Misty. You’ll grasp the concepts in no time.” My eyes linger on her short dress.

I’ve had the nerve to fuck my students in the past. Although, I wouldn’t call it nerve, more like my given right. And since I’m the only TA with a permanent office in the department, it’s quite easy to shut the door and politely ask for a blow job if students want more from me.