#extra-curricular

The teacher stalked up the aisles, his platinum-heeled shoes clicking ominously on the floorboards. With a whirl he spun, stealing the breath from all those assembled and reveling in the scent of fear. His hand whipped out, bony finger singling out one lad in particular.

“You! Boy! Jenkins! What is five multiplied by five?”

“Twenty-five? Sir?” Jenkins ventured, flinching under the assault of his finger

“Not in base thirteen!” The teacher roared, kicking Jenkins in the face and sending him crashing to the floor. He followed this up with a boot to the kidneys, driving a butterfly knife into his desk a moment later.

“I try and try, but still you won’t LEARN!” The teacher said, holding back tears. Jenkins sat up on the floor, wincing.

“You! Other Boy! Not Jenkins! Where is Constantinople?”

“Turkey, sir, and it is now called Istanbul.” The boy said, confident that he’d caught out a trick question.

“I asked you where Constantinople was, not Istanbul!” The teacher snarled, hurling the boy’s desk through the window. He hurled the boy himself a moment later for good measure.

“The correct answer was ‘Lost in the sands of time’! This should have been patently obvious; have you not been LISTENING?!” The teacher lamented while Not Jenkins sheepishly climbed back in through the window.

“You! Boy who is not a boy! Lilly! How many moons are there?”

Lilly did not immediately answer. She was busy trying to wrack her brains for how this question could possibly turn against her.

“Come on, this is an easy one!”

“...one, sir?” She put forward, squinting in preparation of harm. The teacher pulled a revolver from his jacket and shot Lilly in the chest. This caused her to fall backwards off her chair.

“No! There are more than one moons in existence! Though I would also have accepted ‘Once in a blue’. How could you not get it RIGHT?!” The teacher bawled, emptying the remaining shots into the ceiling. Lilly was thankful of her forethought in putting on her flak-vest in the morning.

“You! Object that is neither a boy nor a girl!” The teacher cried out, singling out the featureless marble ovoid sitting at the back of the class sporting a finely made and snugly fitting blazer. It pulsed twice in recognition that it had been pointed at.  

“How many roads must a man walk down?” The teacher hissed, his face so close to the marble ovoid that he could feel the icy chill. The ovoid pulsed rhythmically to a tune only it could hear. The teacher was bamboozled and scandalised.

“That’s...the correct answer...” He breathed, stumbling back. The ovoid was now silent and still.  The teacher staggered back towards his desk, collapsing towards it and weakly supporting himself on the edge.

“A correct answer? No, impossible, I made sure they couldn’t know; shouldn’t know!” The teacher muttered to himself, sweat beading on his forehead. The students watched him somewhat warily.

“No, it can’t be...” The teacher mumbled, sliding to the ground, quivering. He clutched at his throat, tugging at this collar.

“Can’t breathe.” He wheezed, tugging more insistently. The ovoid appeared next to him, glowing dully.

“No...noooo!” The teacher wailed, crawling away. The ovoid followed, still pulsing the correct answer.

“Please stop! I can’t take the education! No more! NO MORE!” The teacher screamed, bursting into flames and leaping down The Hole.

The ovoid then took its place at the head of the class.