Little (scomiche)

Chapter 31

POSSIBLE SPOILERS IN THE AUTHORS NOTE

>>> i don't wanna spoil but I have to trigger warn, strong threat, sexual assault, violence, anxiety, stalking. 

also, sorry

i love u all. I posted early this as soon as I wrote it because I didn't wanna make you wait any more.

Izaac <<<

Mitch knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds before pushing it open and stepping inside. Mr Dixon didn't react to him entering the room until Mitch cleared his throat. The professor looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and fixed his eyes upon Mitch, before looking back down at the paper.

Mitch bit his lip and took one step further inside, he looked around the large lecture hall and his eyes caught sight of a cleaning person at the back of the hall, spraying the chairs. Mitch took a few more steps into the room, feeling slightly more comfortable knowing he wasn't alone with the teacher.

"Umm... professor Dixon," he spoke, trying to steady his voice.

Dixon looked up again and nodded once, "Mitchell."

"You said I should come back for a meeting today." Mitch reminded.

"Yes I know, come and sit down." Dixon gestured to a chair which was near the side of his desk. Mitch sat down in the offered seat and placed his bag on his lap. He waited for Dixon to start talking but he just continued staring down at the papers on the desk, occasionally turning a page.

Mitch looked at the different items on the desk, staring at pictures, books, and typed pages to make the time pass quicker. He listened to the cleaner moving around and whistling to them self, but this entertainment disappeared quickly as there was a slam of the door and they moved onto another room. Needless to say, sitting there was boring as hell. This combined with him being hungry and tired made Mitch feel very angry.

"Excuse me Professor, but this isn't high school. I have a lot of work to be doing and-" he stopped and sighed loudly in frustration as Dixon put a hand up to silence him.

He looked down at a note the professor was writing on an essay, he felt like he recognised the handwriting from somewhere but he couldn't place it. He tried to shake off the feeling of dread that rushed over him by unlocking his phone to text Scott or play one of his anxiety-calming games. This plan fell short, however, when he gazed upon the last thing he had been looking at. He had been showing Kirstie a picture of the note his stalker/home intruder had left on his bedside table.

It took a few seconds for everything to sink in, he looked from the writing Dixon had just done in front of Mitch's eyes over the last 15 minutes back to the image on his phone and back again, connecting the dots. He gasped loudly, standing up so fast he felt dizzy. He took a step back, away from the desk. He now had Professor Dixon's full attention.

"What's wrong with you, Mitchell?" Dixon frowned, standing up too.

"I..." Mitch spoke between his gasped, panicked breaths.

In all the commotion Mitch's phone had fallen to the floor, Dixon bent down to pick it up. Mitch's eyes widened as he watched his professor turn the phone over in his hands and look at the screen. He watched as Dixon's frowned turned into a sinister grin.

"Did you really only just work out who I was? You stupid boy." Dixon reprimanded.

Mitch took a deep breath, "I-I need to go." he stammered, walking off without his bag and phone. He was stopped violently when Dixon shoved him against a wall and pinned him there with his face to the wood panelling. Mitch struggled but was no match for Dixon, who was much taller and broader than him. "Let me go!" He shouted.

Dixon loosened the grip slightly, but only to turn Mitch around in his arms so they were facing each other. Mitch tried to spit onto Dixon's face but failed, spitting onto the collar of his shirt instead. Dixon didn't seem bothered by this, just responded by covering Mitch's mouth with his hand.

Once Mitch stopped struggling Dixon lowered himself to the smaller man's ear and whispered sadistically, "I saw you in San Francisco, Mitchell. At the meet up," Mitch's eyes widened at this. "I knew I had to have you. You looked so delicious, and innocent, and alone."

A tear slipped down Mitch's cheek, Dixon wiped it up. "Don't cry," he instructed sternly. "I'm your Master now. You can forget about that blonde prettyboy." Mitch cried harder, he tried to bite Dixon's hand but he couldn't do more than nip at the skin. "It was fun going to your apartment, the first few times I did it I just... looked around. But then I saw you with that boy, and it made me so angry."

Mitch sobbed thinking about Scott, he thought about how worried Scott would be if Mitch was kidnapped. Professor Dixon started kissing his neck and lower; Mitch cringed, tensing up beyond belief. He'd never felt so scared in his whole life, but he willed himself to stay strong.

"Your panties smelled so good, Mitchell." Dixon whispered after a few minutes, and this was the last straw. Mitch managed to free one leg from Dixon's hold, which had loosened as Dixon started to get engrossed in Mitch's clavicle. He kicked Dixon in the balls as hard as he could, sending the man onto the floor, groaning.

"You little fuck-"

Mitch stepped over Dixon before he could sit up and landed three punches to his nose, and another strong kick to the balls before grabbing his phone and bag and sprinting out of the room. He ran and ran, and he didn't stop until he reached the bus stop which was usually a 15 minute walk from the classroom. Once there he checked behind him and saw no sign of Dixon. It was only at this point that he realised he was still crying.

He pulled out his phone and found Scott's number, it rang for a few seconds.

"Hey baby, what's up?" Scott's cheerful voice played out of the speaker.

Mitch sniffed, "I need you. Right now."