Page 15 of Professor Obsessed

The evening carried on as expected. The night sky stained orange and purple with the setting of the sun. I sat in the parking garage with my window down on the highest floor next to a white Honda SUV. The garage overlooked the city, nothing but concrete and traffic below us. I patiently waited, watching Emma on my phone. She was reading a romance, her hand dipped in her panties as she groaned my name.

She was so beautiful when she came.

I checked her phone on the app. She and Anna hadn’t been talking much lately. They had a falling out over her relationship with me, but I didn’t care. That just meant Anna would phase herself out.

One less person for me to get rid of.

I heard footsteps and glanced in the rearview mirror. Dr. Murdock was making his way back to his car, his evening class let out for the night. We were two of only a handful of cars parked in the garage, the summer semester making campus barren of students.

He fumbled for his keys, distracted by his phone as I stepped out of my car.

“That was quite the show you put on today in the office, Dr.” I spoke.

He glanced up at me motioning his hands as if to dismiss me, “These office assistants have no idea what they’re doing. Especially that Emma girl.”

Her name on his crusty mouth had my fists twitching with the urge to punch him. I approached him slowly as he made his way to his car facing the small shoulder that kept cars from toppling over the edge.

“Don’t you dare speak her name,” I snarled, landing a punch straight to his face.

I felt his eye pucker and bust under my knuckles. His cries of pain echoed into the endless open air. He reared back, his lower back hitting the concrete barrier. He just managed to right his upper half before toppling over.

“You,” he snorted, the blood draining from his face. He blinked rapidly as his eye swelled and blackened. Blood vessels were busted in it creating a murky shade of red in the sclera, “you’re insane. You assaulted me over that bitch?”

I reared back and punched his other eye, then his nose. He grunted as the cartilage shattered under my fists.

I was insane for her. I always would be.

He fell to the ground submitting to my Dunhill men’s luxury dress shoes as they kicked his face in. He was choking on his teeth, his mouth nothing but a bloody mess of gums as snot ran down his face. I snatched his heavy body up by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the overhang facing the street.

“You remember this day as you fucking fall,” I spat at him, “Remember how you berated my girl until she cried.” I shook him awake as his begs and murmurs faded, “Most of all, you remember me.”

“Please, I didn’t know.” Blood trickled out of his toothless mouth, his lips curling inwards, “I didn’t know Emma was with you, I was just,” he gurgled. Unable to come up with anything to say that would save his wretched life.

“Rot in fucking hell.”

I shoved his body face first over the garage. Watching him catapult down fifteen levels to the concrete ground below him. I watched until I saw him splatter head first on the ground. Brain matter painted the streets as commotion and panic arose, cars pulling over, pedestrians vomiting and looking around trying to make sense of the horrific scene.

I wiped the bloody scuff from my shoes, tossing them in a plastic bag to dispose of later. Getting in my car, I checked Emma’s cameras. She was sleeping comfortably post orgasm. My sweet little kitten.

Emma’s tears were mine.

Emma’s pain was mine.

No one would take those from me.

14

EMMA

Anna was the first to text me with the grotesque details. Dr. Murdock was dead. The police yet to rule it as a suicide, or an accident. My hands shook as I reread the message. Dr. Murdock was difficult to work with most days, but I never wanted this for him.

It was Friday, and news of the death spread through the office like wildfire, conversations buzzed all around us in hushed whispers. Flowers were placed outside of his office and the faculty and staff passed around a card to send condolences to his wife and children. His students were devastated; the university offered mental health counseling and therapy for those who were interested, and his classes were split between Dr. Lowe and another professor to finish out the semester.

It felt weird, that just the previous day he was screaming at me in my office, then I was signing a card for his wife the next. Life was so fragile, it was easy to forget that sometimes.

“It’s really horrible what happened,” I said, spooning soup into my mouth. Chase and I were at lunch planning the weekend, “I still can’t believe it.”

Chase silently nibbled on his own food, his green eyes blankly looking at me as he spoke, “Surely he won’t be missed.”

---