Since I received such wonderful feedback on my last story, Knock, Knock I decided to grace all of my lovely readers with another one of my short stories.
This one is also based off another creepypasta ritual, to which I will leave a link down below. I must point out that I do not own the creepypasta, however, I do own this story: all characters, plot lines and so on belong to me. So no copying or stealing or any another naughty business people!
Warning: This story does contain graphic violence, gore, strong language and other disturbing themes. If this isn’t your cup of tea, don’t read it.
Without further ado, let’s begin.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!
The sound of freedom! The class that seemed dead just a second ago came to life almost immediately as the final bell of the day rang, but just as she was about run out of the room, a loud and deep voice broke into the atmosphere,
“Hold it! I have something to give back before you lot make a run for it. Here are your reports on different behaviors.”
The professor, one Richard or, more commonly known as Ricky, Adams began to call out names and the petit girl let out a quiet moan, why did her class have to house over thirty students?
She waited by the door, her forest green eyes scanning the large room, watching as her fellow classmates talked, laughed, walked out and grabbed their work and cried over the mark.
“Naomi O’Hara!”
Her head snapped up and she made her way over to the teacher’s desk. Ricky Adams was a tall, handsome young man with hazel eyes, sandy brown hair, a chiseled jaw and tan skin. He gave her a weak smile as he handed her the report.
“Try a little harder Naomi, you’re a smart kid. Put that brain to good use, yeah?”
She looked at him puzzled, wondering just what the hell he was going on about before glancing down at the papers in her hand.
A fifty.
A fucking fifty!
Naomi didn’t even have the chance to question Adams as he was already out the door and nowhere to be seen down the hall, the sneaky bastard. She looked down at the paper again, the fifty written in a big bold red staring right back at her, almost mockingly. How could he….How!
“Hey Naomi! How’d yo-“
“Shut up Cassandra! I’m not in the fucking mood!” She screamed at her friend and stormed out of the classroom, seething.
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BANG!
Naomi slammed the door behind her and threw her bag on the floorshe was beyond mad. At this very moment she wanted to kill someone. How could he do that? She had spent the whole week perfecting that damn report and for what? She ended up getting a fucking fifty on it!
“How the hell could he do that?!” She screamed at the walls in vain.
There was a loud thud from below her and she heard someone yell, “shut up you crazy bitch!” to which she just stamped her foot on the ground hard enough to make the floor shake a little, that certainly shut whoever the fuck it was up.
Naomi stood still for a moment before she began to burn up her floor by pacing the length of her small apartment.
She wanted revenge; ever since she was a child she had never gotten anything below an eighty and she had planned on keeping it that way, at least until Adams ruined it all. She wanted to hurt him…Bad. She liked him, she really did but the grade he gave her was inexcusable. One way or another she was going to get her revenge, no matter what.
She was insane and she would use her derangement to her advantage.
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The next morning Naomi groggily opened her eyes as sunlight began to creep into her dark room through a gap in the drapes. Slowly she sat up and covered herself with her warm blankets, normally she slept in her underwear unless it was incredibly cold outside which was a rare event in itself considering that the lowest temperatures Black Horse experienced were rarely below five degrees.
With great effort, she pulled herself out of bed and made for the bathroom.
She switched on the light and stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. She was a pretty, young girl with a lithe figure. She had cold forest green eyes that made her look intimidating despite her small stature; her soft features juxtaposed her intense gaze and often misguided people. They thought that she was a cute, sweet, down to earth kind of girl even though that was the exact opposite of who she really was, but then again she was one hell of an actress. Her black hair was styled in a pixie cut with magenta highlights in the front. Her skin was almost a ghostly uniform, this lead to her friends giving her the nick name “Snow White”, quiet appropriate in all honesty.
She washed her face and took care of any other morning routines before getting dressed and brewing a pot of coffee. Had she forgotten yesterday’s events? No. She was going to get what she wanted. She needed to think about what she was going to do and gather her resources and there was only one place she could do that.
The Blacklist Library.
Well readers, there’s part one for you. I hope you enjoy this story as much as the last one! Part two will be up soon and as always feedback is appreciated. Happy reading!
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