Read Online Creepy Teacher: A Psychological Thriller by Mackie Malone - Free Book Online
Authors: Mackie Malone
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that?”
“Relax, Bailey. Everything will be okay,” he said, mounting the bed.
As soon as his face neared hers, she writhed away, turning sideways. “Man, go brush your teeth! Please,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take another whiff of your coffee breath! I’ll die if I do!”
Stuart Renly grabbed her by the hair, dragged her back to the middle of the bed, and began to choke her neck with his hands. Her knees came up defensively. She tried to scream. He plowed his knuckles into her mouth. When she tried to bite him, he worked his entire fist into her slobbery hole, practically jamming it down her windpipe. She twisted away, freeing her mouth, and he used her twisting momentum to flip her over and stuff her face down in the pillow. Repositioning his hands to the back of her neck, he cranked down repeatedly, like giving her CPR, until the small bones inside her neck cracked loudly and gave.
He caught his breath, inhaling deeply.
She hadn’t sprayed enough perfume on, he decided.
A few hours later, at two o’clock in the morning, he shoved her body under the bed.
Chapter 10
C asey Crawford arrived late with the sound system, so at 7:15 on Saturday evening Eric called Bailey with an apology and asked if she could drive herself to the barn.
Of course she could, she had answered.
She was brave and courageous, wasn’t she?
Yeah, right!
All day, she had felt physically drained, waiting around in anticipation of tonight. Eric’s picking her up and escorting her to the party had been her only solace. Now, the thought of having to walk into the party alone spiked her anxiety to a level that was almost debilitating. It was ridiculous and absurd, she knew.
Driving to the farm, she felt jittery.
Parking her car, she felt short of breath.
Walking to the barn, she felt she could puke.
It wasn’t until she stepped into the barn and saw Eric Cady, Brad Townsend, and Casey Crawford still working like a road crew, setting up speakers amongst bales of stacked and pre-arranged hay, that a sense of relief overwhelmed her.
No one’s here yet, she thought. I can handle this.
Eric helped her relax even more. He noticed her come in, set down a coiled power cord, and hollered something to Casey.
The volume in the barn came down a tad as Eric, smiling, made his way toward her standing in the barn’s entrance.
She thought he looked more handsome than ever, for some reason, at that moment.
“You look fantastic in blue,” he said.
“Thanks,” Bailey said, beaming. Partly, she beamed because Eric was smiling so brightly at her, and partly, she beamed because Jany had been right about the shirt. Jany had a knack for all things social, a knack which Bailey herself sorely lacked.
She slipped her hands into her back pockets so they might stop shaking.
Eric seemed fidgety, too, Bailey decided. But he was probably only nervous about getting everything working by 8:00 p.m., when the first Freddy flick was supposed to begin.
“I could use some help running power cords,” he said, “if you’re up for that kind of fun.”
“I can help,” she said.
She felt relieved to help, actually.
When she followed Eric over, both Brad and Casey greeted her warmly, but without stopping their work.
Eric handed her one end of an orange power cord.
“Drag this to that outlet there on the wall,” he said, pointing.
She backed toward it, uncoiling the cord as she went.
He took the opposite end to a big black box that sat on the wooden floor. The floor was dusty from the hay. The hay-smell in the barn was very pungent, but it was a euphoric smell, and Bailey like it.
Once she’d plugged in her end of the cord, she walked back across the dusty wooden barn-board floor to Eric, who plugged the female end into a black cord jutting off the back of the box. Then he flipped a switch, that lighted red, powering the unit on.
“What is that thing?” Bailey asked him.
“A subwoofer,” he said. “All the low-end comes
“Relax, Bailey. Everything will be okay,” he said, mounting the bed.
As soon as his face neared hers, she writhed away, turning sideways. “Man, go brush your teeth! Please,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take another whiff of your coffee breath! I’ll die if I do!”
Stuart Renly grabbed her by the hair, dragged her back to the middle of the bed, and began to choke her neck with his hands. Her knees came up defensively. She tried to scream. He plowed his knuckles into her mouth. When she tried to bite him, he worked his entire fist into her slobbery hole, practically jamming it down her windpipe. She twisted away, freeing her mouth, and he used her twisting momentum to flip her over and stuff her face down in the pillow. Repositioning his hands to the back of her neck, he cranked down repeatedly, like giving her CPR, until the small bones inside her neck cracked loudly and gave.
He caught his breath, inhaling deeply.
She hadn’t sprayed enough perfume on, he decided.
A few hours later, at two o’clock in the morning, he shoved her body under the bed.
Chapter 10
C asey Crawford arrived late with the sound system, so at 7:15 on Saturday evening Eric called Bailey with an apology and asked if she could drive herself to the barn.
Of course she could, she had answered.
She was brave and courageous, wasn’t she?
Yeah, right!
All day, she had felt physically drained, waiting around in anticipation of tonight. Eric’s picking her up and escorting her to the party had been her only solace. Now, the thought of having to walk into the party alone spiked her anxiety to a level that was almost debilitating. It was ridiculous and absurd, she knew.
Driving to the farm, she felt jittery.
Parking her car, she felt short of breath.
Walking to the barn, she felt she could puke.
It wasn’t until she stepped into the barn and saw Eric Cady, Brad Townsend, and Casey Crawford still working like a road crew, setting up speakers amongst bales of stacked and pre-arranged hay, that a sense of relief overwhelmed her.
No one’s here yet, she thought. I can handle this.
Eric helped her relax even more. He noticed her come in, set down a coiled power cord, and hollered something to Casey.
The volume in the barn came down a tad as Eric, smiling, made his way toward her standing in the barn’s entrance.
She thought he looked more handsome than ever, for some reason, at that moment.
“You look fantastic in blue,” he said.
“Thanks,” Bailey said, beaming. Partly, she beamed because Eric was smiling so brightly at her, and partly, she beamed because Jany had been right about the shirt. Jany had a knack for all things social, a knack which Bailey herself sorely lacked.
She slipped her hands into her back pockets so they might stop shaking.
Eric seemed fidgety, too, Bailey decided. But he was probably only nervous about getting everything working by 8:00 p.m., when the first Freddy flick was supposed to begin.
“I could use some help running power cords,” he said, “if you’re up for that kind of fun.”
“I can help,” she said.
She felt relieved to help, actually.
When she followed Eric over, both Brad and Casey greeted her warmly, but without stopping their work.
Eric handed her one end of an orange power cord.
“Drag this to that outlet there on the wall,” he said, pointing.
She backed toward it, uncoiling the cord as she went.
He took the opposite end to a big black box that sat on the wooden floor. The floor was dusty from the hay. The hay-smell in the barn was very pungent, but it was a euphoric smell, and Bailey like it.
Once she’d plugged in her end of the cord, she walked back across the dusty wooden barn-board floor to Eric, who plugged the female end into a black cord jutting off the back of the box. Then he flipped a switch, that lighted red, powering the unit on.
“What is that thing?” Bailey asked him.
“A subwoofer,” he said. “All the low-end comes
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