The old classroom was musty. Ms. Brooks didn't turn on the lights but the room was lit well enough by sunlight as filtered through lowered window shad...s."Alright, Edward, I've brought us here to give you a chance. Now what are you carrying?" she demanded as she folded her arms under her spectacular bosom and tilted her head expectantly."Nothing ... I'm not carrying anything," I said. "It's ... it's all me."And just like that the beautiful, buxom teacher's stern expression began to ease. Her. Stay true to herself. Stand proud, as a survivor, against the base a****l instincts she was to succumb to.And then the chant started.It was a sick, jumbled mess of alien words, oozing with pure darkness. It was thoroughly unintelligible, yet she felt an icy tingle down her spine as if she had been explained all the horrors of war in a few Lovecraftian words. Yet, the voice itself was soft, young, girly. The voice of a pure, cheerful maiden unmarred by her own obscenities.Jennie's breath. More

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