The classroom buzzed with restless chatter, the kind that only dies down when something humiliating happens. Ceiling fans groaned overhead, doing little against the afternoon heat. The smell of chalk and sweat hung heavy, mixing with the faint aroma of roasted groundnuts drifting in through the open windows.
Mrs. Helen tapped her red pen on a stack of papers, lips curved in a knowing smirk. Her sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Alex Night. Five points."
The room erupted with laughter.
Heads turned toward the back of the class. Alex felt the weight of dozens of mocking eyes digging into him, their smirks sharper than knives.
"Congratulations," Mrs. Helen continued smoothly, her tone laced with cruel amusement. "You are the only one who managed to stay in the single digits. Honestly, I still don't understand why you bother coming to school. Perhaps you should just drop out and become a trader. Who knows? Maybe you'll find success there."
The laughter swelled, rolling over him like a wave. Desks rattled as students slapped them, some whispering insults, others just shaking their heads in pity.
Alex rose slowly. The heat burned in his ears, but he kept his expression blank. He walked to the front, collected his paper, and returned to his seat with deliberate calm. His chest tightened, but he swallowed it down. He was used to this. If there was one thing he had mastered in life, it was enduring untold humiliation.
Still… he couldn't help but steal a glance of her
Mrs. Helen. Barely five feet tall, but with curves that seemed almost sinful on such a petite frame. Dark eyes glimmering behind her glasses, lips painted a soft shade of red. Her blouse strained against her chest in ways that made half the boys in class forget how to breathe, while the girls eyed her with scorn.
Alex looked away sharply, disgusted with himself. "Pathetic," he muttered under his breath.
The bell rang, releasing the class in a storm of footsteps and chatter. Students streamed out, not sparing him a glance. Alex stayed until the room emptied, then approached the teacher's desk. His palms felt damp.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Helen. Please can I have a moment?"
She raised her head, arching one brow. "Yes?"
"I know my score is terrible. I was wondering if there's… anything I could do to make up for it."
For a heartbeat, her expression softened. "Since you seem remorseful, I'll give you a chance. Come tomorrow for a make-up test. Don't waste it."
Relief swept through him. "Thank you, ma'am." He bowed his head, careful not to let his eyes slip down her neckline again. Heat rose to his cheeks.
---
Outside, the city was alive with chaos. Danfo buses honked as they swerved dangerously, hawkers shouted about roasted corn and suya, and the rumble of okadas split the air. Alex tightened the strap of his worn backpack and kept walking.
Above, dark clouds swirled together. The afternoon heat gave way to a heavy stillness, and then—
Drip. Drip. Ti-ti-ti-ti.
Rain hammered the pavement. Within seconds, the street was a mess of umbrellas, drenched pedestrians, and flashing headlights. Alex pulled his hoodie over his head and quickened his pace.
That's when he heard it.
A scream.
"Stop it! Please, I'll do anything! Take myself money, pleaswlet me go!"
His steps faltered. His pulse spiked.
Another voice, rough and cruel, cut through the rain. "Shut up, bitch. When I'm done with you, you'll be broken beyond repair."
The sound of a slap echoed through the storm
Alex's jaw clenched. He shoved his bag behind a dumpster and sprinted toward the noise. His shoes splashed through puddles, his heart hammering louder than the rain.
He rounded the corner and froze.
Mrs. Helen.
She was pinned against a damp brick wall by a broad-shouldered thug. The man's clothes clung to his muscular frame, and the knife in his hand gleamed under the flickering streetlight. Her blouse was torn at the shoulder, her terrified eyes glistening in the rain.
Alex didn't think. His body moved.
He charged, driving his knee into the man's groin.
The thug let out a strangled cry and staggered back. "You little—!"
He slashed the knife downward.
Adrenaline roared through Alex's veins. He twisted sideways, the blade grazing his cheek, burning like fire. The air reeked of sweat and metal. He grabbed the man's wrist with both hands, straining to keep the knife from his throat.
The thug snarled, muscles bulging as he tried to overpower him.
Alex shifted, slamming his elbow into the man's nose. A sharp crack split the air. The thug cursed, stumbling. Alex kneed him in the gut, and the knife clattered to the ground.
He didn't stop. His fists hammered down—cheekbone, jaw, temple. Each impact jolted up his arms, but he pressed on, driven by desperation. Finally, the thug collapsed in a heap, groaning but alive.
Chest heaving, Alex turned to Mrs. Helen.
"Are you okay, ma'am?"
She was trembling, hair plastered to her face by the rain. Her blouse clung to her frame, her breaths sharp and uneven. For a moment, she looked fragile a victim of the wicked world we live in.
Alex reached out, gently steadying her shoulders. "It's okay now. You're safe."
Her lips curved into a smile. But it wasn't relief.
It was hunger and eye colder than the frigid winter.
"You shouldn't have killed my meal," she whispered.
Alex blinked. "What?"
Before he could process what was happening A sharp sting pierced his neck. Pain shot through him, hot and searing, as blood flowed freely down his collar.
"W-what the hell?!" He shoved her back, eyes widening as he saw the truth.
Elongated fangs gleamed in the streetlight, crimson with his blood. Her dark eyes glowed faintly red, her delicate mouth twisted into a predator's grin.
She licked her lips slowly, savoring the taste. "Mmm… your blood tastes divine."
it will be my pleasure eating you Alex stumbled backward, clutching his wound. His breath came ragged, his body heavy. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to obey.
every second spent on that cold floor his life waned
And under the pounding rain, a cold realization struck him like lightning.
so this is how i die