On the first day of school, two best friends discover a frightening

secret about one of their new teachers.

Donna and Malcolm walked to school together every day. When Malcolm got his

schedule changed, Donna begrudgingly allowed for mutual changes in her schedule as well. She

only had to stay an extra hour, as Malcolm made up for the credit he had lost at the beginning of

his high school career. She waited in the library, which was vacated by 3:30, kids eager to go

home after a long day in the trenches. Donna was just about to finish one of her assignments

when she saw movement just outside the window. She looked up over the rim of her computer

to see their new teacher, who appeared to be walking to her car.

Mrs. Verdandi had become a much loved addition to the rank of teachers in the recent

months. She had come to school when their last science teacher had mysteriously disappeared,

only to be found decimated by a secret: apparently, a long-suffered illness. She stood out from

the crowd very easily, by her starkly contrasting bright, red hair. She could not be mistaken for

anybody else, so, when Donna saw her carrying a large bundle of something, concealed under a

large tarp, wrapped in what appeared to be rope, she was considerably suspicious. It looked far

too heavy for her slight frame, but she carried it seamlessly to her truck, glancing around

cautiously all the while.

Malcolm, Malcolm! she shouted at her friend who had just emerged from his class. He

was used to her over-enthusiastic greetings. I just saw something very suspicious. She told

Malcolm all about what she had seen on their walk home: the relatively unheard of Mrs.

Verdandi loading a parcel into the trunk of her car. Malcolm and she had always been great fans

of mystery novels and movies. To have a real-life mystery to snoop on would certainly be a

pleasure.
 I dont know, Donna, it doesnt seem that odd, he said.

You didnt see her, Malcolm, it was weird. She kept looking around. Whatever it was,

she didnt want to be seen with it. Isnt that worth investigating? He didnt look swayed, but

looked skeptically into her bright, blue eyes, which shone with excitement and intrigue. Here,

she said, and she pulled a quarter out of the pocket of her coat. Well flip for it. Heads: we

investigate, tails: we leave it be.

Fine. They flipped the coin. It landed on heads. The first thing that she wanted to do

was to find out what it was that drove Mrs. Verdandi to their small town.

Its not like this is one of the number one travel destinations in the midwest, said

Donna.

Still, I dont think that our geographical popularity has much to do with any illegal

activity our teacher may or (more likely) may not be part of, Malcolm countered. Donna rolled

her eyes. They were in Donnas room, plotting their investigation. Where did you see her

coming from again? Malcolm asked.

The closest place that she couldve gotten to the parking lot from had to be the

gymnasium.

And thats where they started. Monday morning, after their weekend of preparation, they

officially began their investigation. They scouted every in and out of the gym building, looking

for a connection: a clue.

Try and see if you can find any tarps or rope like the one we saw her carrying, Donna

yelled to Malcolm over her shoulder, as she perused the coaches office.

How about you try and be a little quieter! he hissed back. When do you think Coach

Barns will be back, anyway? he asked.

 I wouldnt be betting on soon: he tends to take his time with lunch.

Wouldnt it be smarter if we had someone looking out for us in the cafeteria? Malcolm

asked. Donna turned to face him.

Were two nerdy fourteen-year-olds digging up dirt on our science teacher. Its not as if

we have any more friends to volunteer for the task. Now keep looking. Your anxiousness is

driving me crazy. Donna turned back to file through a couple more drawers, but she heard

voices just beyond the door. Malcolms eyes widened. Hide! she mouthed to him, and she

dove under the desk.

I want the rest of the money soon, Barns. Just because were old friends doesnt mean

you get special favors. Verdandis voice could be heard traveling in the echoing reverberance

offered by the spacious gym.

Youll have it soon, I promise you, but you have to be more careful next time. Anyone

couldve seen you!

Look, I dont tell you how to do your job, and dont tell me how to do mine, she

sneered. It was you who didnt tell me the right way to get out. It was you who didnt let the

van in through the gates. It was your poor planning and lack of preparedness that got you in this

mess in the first place. We have a real chance for a getaway here. Do what I told you, and

nothing will go wrong.

Okay, okay, he said, raising his pudgy hands in surrender. So, whats next?

Next, I get my money, and then we can continue. She turned heel and walked out of

the gymnasium to her next class, as Barns muttered angrily under his breath.
 We should follow him after school. Donna typed the words into her phone under the

desk. She looked up to make sure the history teacher wasnt watching. It gave a faint buzz at

Malcolms response.

What if he goes to his house? Isnt that kind of crazy? We cant do that!

Except now you cant deny the fact that something incredibly fishy is going on, she

sent in response.

Ms. Pierce! I asked you a question, which I assume you might be able to hear if you

werent so preoccupied, Mr. Dorset grabbed the phone from her hand before she had a chance to

shove it out of sight. He glanced momentarily over the messages, and Donnas face reddened.

They had been caught.

See me after class.

PLOT TWIST: Whatever tool or skill or technology your characters were most relying

on--it breaks. It stops working. It's faulty. Now what?

Now tell me, what is this nonsense? he asked, holding up her phone.

Its nothing, Mr. Dorset; just a joke.

A joke? About spying on two of my fellow teachers? he said with a raised eyebrow.

Look, Ms. Pierce, youre a great student, but I should let you know that student-teacher

personal contact is inappropriate, and spying on them, going to their places of residence, is

beyond that. It is disrespectful. Donna looked down at her hands in her lap, ashamed.

Im sorry she muttered.

Just make sure it doesnt happen again, okay? She nodded. You may go to your next

class, he said, and Donna shot up out of her seat and quickly made her way out of the room.

Mr. Dorset made his way around his desk and pulled out his own cell phone.
 Watch out for Donna Pierce. I just confiscated her phone and she has a series of

messages regarding your suspicious behavior. Be more careful. We dont want to be found out,

he said to the listener on the other line.

What happened to you? Malcolm asked as Donna sat down next to him in science

class. Her face was pale and she looked nervous. The chaotic atmosphere made a good coverup

for a private conversation.

I just got pulled aside by Mr. Dorset. He read our messages. I dont think he took them

very seriously, though. Didnt you get my text about it? Malcolm pulled out his own phone to

check and shook his head. Thats odd she pulled out her own phone and pressed the power

button to turn it on. Instead, the screen only fizzed momentarily with static electricity, flashing

discordant pixels of some kind, before reverting to black. She jammed the power button a couple

more times but nothing happened.

PLOT TWIST: The next day as Malcolm awakes, he finds himself locked in a prison of some

kind. The only way to get the key is by ..

Malcolm woke up the next morning with a violent headache. He didnt want to open his

eyes and look at the rising sun. He had gotten to bed very late that night. Yesterday, he had

positioned himself somewhere just outside of Ms. Verdandis house after school. His film

teacher had taken a special interest in him, and allowed him to get away with a lot because of his

artistic potential. Therefore, he had taken the liberty of renting a couple of the cameras

belonging to the department. He was skeptical of most of Donnas suspicions because she was

prone to seeing the whimsy in almost everything, but he thought it was a little too coincidental
that Mr. Dorset saw their messages and her phone just mysteriously stopped working. Whatever

the teachers had gotten up to was obviously bad enough to try and hush up.

Ms. Verdandi lived just outside of a wooded area on the outskirts of town. It was

secluded but not barren. It was comforting that there were neighboring houses, to say the least.

Still, his heart beat quickly as he attached cameras to the neighboring trees, all pointed at the

quaint little two-story house just beyond. He assumed she was not home because her car was not

in the driveway. All the same, he tried to keep unseen in the thickets of bushes and trees.

He was just finishing attaching the last of the cameras. He looked through the lense,

pointed at the house and zoomed in. With a start, he realized that there was a person looking

directly at him. He composed himself, and looked closer at the window, this time with his bare

eyes. Indeed, in the window was a woman with long blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail.

He did not recognize her. She had penetrating blue eyes, but, despite what he had previously

suspected, he didnt think that she was looking at him. When she left her place at the window, he

emerged from the bushes, tossing aside brambles and such as he approached the house. He did

his best to not appear suspicious as he made his way across her yard. He peered in through the

window, or at least tried to, but before he could take in as much as an armchair, he was knocked

unconscious by a blow to the head.

He figured thats where he must be now, except now, he was surrounded by darkness. He

did not know where he was. He felt the tug of a blindfold pressing into his nose and pulling his

hair. His hands appeared held together.

HELP! he tried to yell, but it only came out as a muffled HLFF.

Quiet down, please, someone snapped at him. They appeared to be just in front of him.

He only fought more, trying to loosen his restraints by fidgeting. His captor, approached him as
he continued to yell. The woman with the blonde hair removed his blindfold so that they could

look each other in the eyes. With a shock, he realized it was Ms. Verdandi, except that her

authentically blue eyes were not their usual shade of brown. She looked stripped bare without

her makeup, her eyes outlined in red from lack of sleep.

I said, be quiet, she whispered threateningly.