This story was designed to take place between chapters 1 and 2 of my novel, 'Further Than You Think' (on this site). If you haven't read that though, don't worry.

THE REPLACEMENT

It could've been something out of a dark fairytale. Difference was, it was their reality. He was the replacement, and she was his. well. his something more than what she was supposed to be.

The phone call from her father had been the straw that broke the camel's back. She missed her father, and needed someone to fill those shoes where she was. Now she had the replacement selected mentally, her father's phone call had encouraged her to move in for the kill.

'Come dance with me.'

She had her chance at the dance, where the teachers were the chaperones. Her boyfriend would be irritated, but she didn't care. Her boyfriend wasn't worthy of being the replacement; this pale, brooding man dressed in black was.

'Do you think that's such a wise idea, Miss Jones?' The replacement leaned closer, his whispered voice seductive in her ear. 'You've heard what happens, my dear.'

She had heard. She knew. Every female student over the age of sixteen knew, quite a few from personal experience. Now it would be her turn. Nevertheless, she turned around and walked away.

But she kept returning to him. First every twenty minutes. then every ten. then every five. 'Come dance with me,' she'd ask every time of the replacement.

Eventually, he stood. 'You have an interesting idea of leading a man on, Miss Jones.'

'Don't I just?'

'You're fighting fire with fire.'

'I know. The other girls told me to.'

His face didn't change at all, but his dark eyes burned with a sinister desire, a promise of things to come. 'Shall we, Alexandra?'

Once he called you by your first name, you had to go the whole nine yards. And so the waltz began.

Eyes watched. Teachers glared at him; in their eyes, he was taking advantage of the next innocent girl. Female students glared at her; in their eyes, he had made his evening's choice and they would have to wait for another night to slip between his sheets. As he dipped her back with experience, her eyes met her boyfriend's, and his eyes held fury over the fact that his girlfriend would rather bed her teacher than him. But doesn't every girl here, she thought.

The replacement pulled her back up, their torsos pushed together. His lips pressed against her own, his tongue drove into her mouth, commanding her with authority to abandon conscious thought. She was only too happy to oblige, before he pulled away only to lead her from the room. She followed him quickly down the corridors, towards the coldest part of the boarding school. The joyful laughter of the ballroom fell into silence behind them. The door to his bedroom slammed shut, they had stripped each other bare by the time they made it to his bed.

At four in the morning, she rushed quickly to her dormitory, knowing she'd never return.

Her father died the following morning, and she had to go home. Dragging her suitcase behind her down the corridor, she paused as the replacement came striding up towards her.

'Sorry about your loss.'

'Thank you.' She was empty, she didn't care.

'Good luck, Miss Jones.' And he left.

She'd never need another replacement. They didn't work.