Confessions of a Psychopath [bxb]

3. A New Kind of Teacher

Chapter 3

"I'll text you when we can meet. We need to stop meeting in school like this." Mr Graham said as he cornered me in the hallway, his arm blocking my exit.

My eyes narrowed at his arm which was right beside my shoulder.

"Right. Okay." I said, trying to hide my annoyance at the invasion of space.

I ducked under his arm and made my way back into the busy hall. His classroom had just emptied and another began to shuffle into his room.

"You're the one who stopped me, but okay." I mumbled under my breath, glancing back to see he was still watching me.

It was true that I was following him around, waiting for instruction. I looked up his class times and waited around near the beginnings and ends of his lectures in hopes of running into him. He was, of course, sharp enough to noticed me but he chose to ignore me which irritated me to some extent. Why was he neglecting me now? I used to be his favorite.

"See you in class, Mr Hunt." He said, watching me go.

It had been about a month since I was Mr Graham's victim in his basement. So far I hadn't been back to his house and he hadn't mentioned the incident at all. I was growing impatient.

The class I had before his was child development. Not my favorite, but useful in the psychology degree. It wasn't hard for me to pretend to care for children, but it was stressful. It made me actually physically ill to work around them and sometimes we had field trips to daycares. My need to kill had always been strongest when I had to interact with anyone younger, even teenagers just two years younger than myself seemed too young. Dealing with younger, naive people always made my desire to kill almost overpowering.

There were some useful things we went over though. I learned about what happens to children if they're treated badly as they grow up, especially if molestation or neglect happens. That abuse could potentially lead to psychopathy if the kid has the genetic code. There were some things I could remember from my childhood that could have influenced my psychopathy, and I was curious to learn more. I didn't feel bad at all for the children when we went over the bad situations they've lived in. I wanted to laugh at everyone's horror at some of the stories but I held in my sick delight. It was the unhappiness of classmates that pleased me, rather than the abuse the children endured.

Thankfully, I had Mr Graham for horror journalism after child development, a pleasant change to help after the stress of learning about children. He didn't treat me as his favorite anymore which made me feel slightly disappointed, or at least close to the feeling. I had developed a strange feeling of need towards him. I wanted to show him what I was capable of now that he knew what I was. But he didn't pay me any attention which made my need stronger. I didn't want to become one of those psychopaths. The ones that obsess over something and get caught trying to prove their "love." I wouldn't be that person. I accepted the silence I had received so far from him, hoping this was some sort of test.

It was finally time to head over to class with Mr. Graham. At least this way he was forced to be in the same room as me. He tied me up in his basement, least he could do now was bring me along when he tied up someone else.

"Good day, Mr. Hunt." Mr Graham said as I walked in and took my seat.

The darkness of the lightless room calmed me down immediately. It was nice to have such a relaxing class at the end of the day, especially since that's when I felt the restless need to kill. Hours of faking emotions will do that to a person. The small class arrived one by one and finally we were all here. Mr Graham entered, turning off the music and the class went silent.