SAVE POINT 108

Loading A Teacher's Pet & An Image Like A Horror Video Game...100%

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Mimi

Guarding people is supposed to be a piece of cake—like guarding a portal; you just stand there, look intimidating and not let anyone past. But guarding Rosabella? Man, am I getting my exercise!

I grit my teeth, trying not to leak the confidential information that I'm currently breathing louder than a freight train as Joy whips around the corner, her pink ponytail flying. Her eyes narrow as they sweep over my nearly hunched posture; it's like that girl smells weakness.

"Tap out if you gotta tap out," she huffs.

If anyone else said the same sentence, it'd sound like an offer to raise the white flag—a friendly extension of reprieve but... Well, coming off the muscled warrior's lips it sounds like a competitive wrestling match...and I'm losing.

Technically, I didn't even sign up for this gig; management just placed me here. I can't fail if I literally didn't even volunteer. It's not my fault Rosabella has more energy than an unbroken Thoroughbred and has been racing from meeting to meeting, talking to hundreds of Gamers who are also potential threats. —You know, where the heck is Maude? ...Not that I particularly want to see the girl, just that she's supposed to be the other half of my team which, somehow, keeps reducing to the one who actually work: i.e. Joy and me.

A girl's laughter echoes down the well-lit hall. I squint past Joy, stepping forward to peer around the corner and recognize Maude's curvy form, accentuating her hips by thrusting one out as she twirls a strand of blonde hair around a finger and giggles into the chest of a black-clad guard who exemplifies the tall, dark and handsome stereotype.

Is she serious right now? If I had one, tiny make out session with Dormouse, I'd be in the boss's office quicker than I could snap my fingers but Maude??? She freaking does this all the time, and no one says anything! ...I don't swear but 'fucking fuck'.

"That girl is literally as useful as a cardboard cutout," Joy observes dryly, noticing the direction of my stare and the raw aggravation probably puffing my face to cartoon proportions.

The pink-haired warrior lays a hand on my shoulder, "If you need backup, call me but hey—" she grabs my arm as I go to turn away, "I'm not usually nice so..."

"So don't mess up your gangster street cred?" I joke, "I know." I smile at the girl, but it's half-hearted.

"Guess you're not as useless as you look," Joy drawls, a twinkle in her eye as she nods at the door, "Take that break, loser. I've got Rosabella."

I let out a breath as I walk down the hall—opposite of where Maude's overt flirtation is occurring; there's no way someone could pay me to watch that. Rectangular patches of sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hall stream over the thick pads and material of my guard uniform, warming the skin of my cheeks and my scalp. On any other day, that same light and warmth would make me smile. I glance up, and the sky is that Crayola-perfect shade of blue with picture-perfect clouds so...so why do I have a tension headache forming between creased brows and tired feet? My boots thud down the empty hall with each echoing step. Why do I feel...so melancholy?

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I struggle with the thought—try to pin down the emotions swirling, heavily, in my heart. I guess I'm just wondering what am I doing here? What are we all doing here? What's the point of the Game Maker and guarding the Game Maker and the Higher Place if everyone has creator magic now? What makes Rosabella the leader anymore? ...Am I leaning towards agreeing with the masses that she shouldn't have made that change? I chew on the inside of my lip, considering. I hate to side with any hordes and most definitely don't want to be part of this coup but...

I reach for the nearest, golden door handle absentmindedly.

Well, maybe they have a...

"Ah!"

I scream.

I leap backwards, the handle I'd just been holding snapping up and the door flying open.

"What the—" Dormouse stands, confused and blinking at me, in the doorway. But it wasn't him that scared me. "Mimi?" he asks.

My face instantly reddens to scarlet. I try to stabilize my shaking finger as I point past the dark-haired boy, "I'm sorry, it's—there's a bug—"

"A bug?" Dormouse's face shrivels up in disgust as he whips around. His eyes run over the doorframe, and his pale fingers brush incessantly over the folds of his sweater. If I was looking for a Prince Charming to save me from the big, nasty beast, the freaking out lines on his face tell me he is most certainly not it.

"Right there!" I squeak, pointing at the edge of the door.

And Dormouse turns to see—

But I already can. It's a big, black roach—German cockroach to be exact. As big as my thumb. Its shiny shell covers disgusting legs which twitch uncertainly on the edge of the door.

"Oh my God—" Dormouse squirms away, revolt creasing his face.

I cross my arms over my chest, "Aren't men supposed to kill bugs for women?" I protest, never letting my eyes leave the disgusting creature.

"Do I look like that kind of man?!" Dormouse screeches, "Be honest." And, if I am, he looks more terrified than me; his chin is literally trembling, and his pale skin is ultra paper-white.

It makes me want to laugh and actually split a smile open for the first time today. "Okay, okay," I wave him off, trying to simmer down his panic, "we'll leave it, but I'm calling an exterminator as soon as I'm back on the clock. This place is too beautiful and well-kept to have bugs like this—"

A woman's scream rattles the air.

Confused, I look at Dormouse who shrugs. "Out here?" He ducks a head down the hall.

But I've heard screams like that before. I know a distress call when I hear one. Adrenaline rushes through me, making me jittery. I grab Dormouse's arm, "Come on—"

I launch us down the hall—

...Except I have to stop.

Even though there are more shouts.

And utter panic unleashing itself at the end of the corridor where people are literally tumbling out of rooms, waving their hands in the air and stomping their feet—

As a wave of black scuttles forward, engulfing the carpet runner and floor. My jaw drops open. It's...it's cockroaches speeding towards us, crawling up the walls on either sides.

My feet are frozen.

In petrifying terror.

In hesitancy—what do I do?! This is worse than an infestation. This is—

"Mimi!" Dormouse yelps from behind me as the wave of bugs gets closer—

My heart pounds in my chest, but my eyes flick up.

To find Joy.

Walking towards us down the hall, each stomp of her leather, combat boots crunching fistfuls of bugs as sunlight streams behind her, illuminating her pink hair like she's an Olympian goddess sent to help all of humanity in this very moment. Her hands are mounted on both hips and a frown tugs at her mouth.

"Maybe it's just me, but I think we have a problem," she states seriously, her right eyebrow lacing up for just a second in sarcastic jest, "Teacher's pet, what do all your training manuals recommend for this shit?"

And I gape at her because I'm used to having all the answers and right now...

Right now, I have none.