Page 111 of Ivy's Venom

It’s six in the evening and we just watched as Dean’s secretary got into her car and drove out of Johnstone’s parking lot.

“He’ll be alone now.” I whisper. “How did you find out?”

“Trent and I received a tip from a co-worker about the dean of Johnstone Academy and how much he likes to punish his girls.”

I feel fucking sick.

“Trent does a lot of recon work and he found out that much of what the tipster said was true. He found videos, photos, and even some mementos.”

I know those mementos, sometimes it was a lock of my hair, and sometimes it would be a pair of my panties.

“You were a part of his collection, Ivy.” Her voice shakes and she takes a deep breath, “I failed you because I thought our name was enough to protect you, I’m sorry.”

“Mom,” I try to make her listen, “I can’t kill anyone.”

“You may change your mind, but I won’t force you,” she turns her tear filled eyes on me, “but understand, he will not be breathing when we leave his office.”

“Okay.” I concede.

“Pull your hood over your head, the makeup conceals your face but our hair can still be distinguished on camera.”

I flip down the visor and look into the small square mirror. Mom painted my face into a decorative skull. It’s gorgeously grotesque. My eyes are blackened to resemble sockets, my nose is tipped in black, she’s coated my lips a bright red but black lines through it resemble teeth, and on my forehead is a bright red rose. She called it a sugar skull and said it came from our Mexican heritage. My face is a mirror image of her own and we look like a pair of Trick or Treaters.

“Let’s get this over with.” She rubs her hands together and we get out of the car.

The doors to Johnstone Academy are still unlocked but the hallways are empty, I can hear the faraway hum of the floor polisher and luckily the custodian is far from Dean’s office. We hook a left at the first corridor and I see the secretary’s office up ahead, beside hers is Dean’s. I’m petrified but at the same time, I’m excited to see fear in his eyes. Maybe Mom is right, the darkness really is inside of me, waiting to be unleashed.

I’m shocked when she opens the secretary’s door and softly closes it behind us. Dean’s office is always locked from the corridor, to get to him, you have to use the adjoining door from the secretary’s office.

I open my mouth to ask her how she knew, but she turns on me abruptly and presses her finger to her mouth. I nod and gulp back my words. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Mom opens the door and I hear a bit of rustling, “Carol, did you forget something?”

His voice has me freezing on the spot and I can’t seem to collect my thoughts. Mom steps into the room and I hear Dean jump from his chair with a shout.

“Hello Jerry Thompson,” Mom literally coos. “I heard you’ve been asking around about me.”

I can’t move from this spot in the secretary’s office and even though he is not in my line of sight, hearing him is having the same effect.

“Black Slaughter.” He sounds… terrified. My body relaxes and I take a few steps forward. I like that he sounds that way.

“Ding ding!” Mom claps her hands and I can’t help but grin at her antics. “You deserve a prize.”

“No,” his voice shakes and it stirs something in the pit of my stomach, “no, I don’t need a prize.”

I take a few more steps inside of his office but the door blocks me from his view.

“Too bad.” Mom takes a step towards him, “sit in your seat,Dean.”That’s what he makes everyone call him because he’s so proud of his position.

I hear his seat creak as he sits back down and my chest is brimming with adrenaline. Mom walks towards his desk and out of my line of sight.

“Wait, don’t take that out.” I hear his voice squeak with fear, “we can talk about this.”

I want to know what she has, I want to see what she does to him, and most of all, I want him to see me.

I step out from behind the door and walk up to the front of his desk, the very spot he continuously fucked me on. I see Mom twirling a large hunting knife in her hand and it has the same sugar skulls carved into the handle.

“Wait,” his hand shakes as he points to me. “There are two of you? What’s that one’s name?”

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