A frigid breeze blew stiff through the broken bedroom window of the farmhouse, biting at his exposed neck.

But Jim didn’t budge; he didn’t feel like going to school today. He didn’t feel like going to school any day.

Jimmy was in his sixth year of school at Bran and Poenari High, and was by far the elder of his class. Many had entered the school after and easily graduated before him. But any students who crossed James in any way, assumed the role of prey for the predator; you see James was a bully.

Both of James’ parents had died tragically of heart failure (on separate occasions of course) due in full to an unhealthy diet and lack of exercise. He had been put into foster care only to eventually live with his uncle in the country. At nine years old he was parentless and companionless, aside from the barnyard animals that he had quickly befriended. Before his descent into bullying, the one thing that brought Jimmy happiness was to play in the stalls with (and eat from the troughs of) the animals.

Over-sized and under-kept could best describe his bodily state of being. He was far too large, physically matured and aged to still be in high school. Often times he was mistakenly accused of being a lackadaisical janitor, because he rarely went to class and his face was adorned with a fully grown, though stringy, beard. It was the sort of hair one might find on the chin of a goat, dirty and disheveled, sometimes containing pieces of his last meal intertwined within it. The rest of his hair, snarled and depressed, peeked carefully out from under a weathered New York Yankees cap which he wore a size too big. A strong odor constantly radiated from his dirt encrusted boots and unwashed overalls. He was in charge of most of the grimy duties on his uncles’ farm including “sanitation”. Thus it wasn’t entirely clear whether the substance covering his feet was dirt. But none of this vulgarity matched the awful appearance and aroma of James’ teeth.

For upon opening his mouth, which he only did when eating or cursing, he revealed the few of them that remained, stained and decaying. This oral deformation had earned him his nickname, “Gums”, though no one was bold, or ignorant, enough to call him it to his face. He neither possessed the means nor the desire to brush or floss, nor even to chew a stick of gum to possibly quell the stench that escaped from the rotten abyss that was his mouth. This was the sole weakness of the otherwise unstoppable bully. If anything could deter Jimmy’s relentless attacks on the innocent it was that often he suffered great pain as a result of his horrific dental hygiene and poor diet.

His ungodly girth thanks in full to a goliath appetite and daily chores on his uncles farm, was a potent weapon of his arsenal of deviance. It was clear that he had reached an unhealthy weight once his sides reached the point of spilling out of his overalls. But his gross body was not without strength. It was not uncommon to find the occasional “nerd” or “pretty boy” dangling helplessly by his underwear from a bathroom stall, but it was uncommon if James hadn’t been responsible.

On one particular occasion an unfortunate newbie found himself in a world unlike any other, thanks to James of course.

It was Marshall Planter’s first day of class, and he dragged through the hallways in search of his destination.

Unfortunately for Marshall, if anyone fit precisely the textbook definition of a nerd, it was him. In his loose fit shoes he stood still no higher than a picket fence and was colored just as pale. His lime shirt, and canary yellow pocket protector, combined with neatly pleated, mustard brown dress pants, created an outfit of such gaucheness as to attract criticism from all the students. But the worst of which came from Jim.

Marshall had lost himself in the winding hallways of the school building. Already ten minutes late for class he quickly turned around to continue his search, accidentally bumping into something, dropping his books to the floor.

“Watch it dork!” he heard blindly as he bent to retrieve his materials. This startled him and he immediately straightened, only to encounter a harsh blow to the abdomen. It felt like a golfer had just driven a bowling ball into his gut.

Marshall barely gasped a reply, “sssorry”, still unable to breathe, and still unaware of whom he had disturbed

“You will be”, the behemoth retorted.

Once Marshall had regained his senses, he tried to look up at the huge being standing before him. He caught a brief glimpse of his assailant, who, lunging towards him grabbed his under shorts and thrusting them upward, lifted him off from the floor.

“Now your really sorry ain’t ya?” grunted James, “This’ll teach ya to mess with me”.

James carried the poor child across the hall and into the vacant anatomy room. The residing teacher was at lunch and had naively given James full access to the room, in hopes that something educational would come of it. But to Jimmy it was just the right place to take his victims.

Jim opened a glass bottle revealing a set of poorly preserved eyeballs, and waved it under the nose of Marshall.

“Eat ‘em”, he commanded.

“W-what!?”, Marshall replied.

“You heard me freak, EAT ‘EM!”

“B-but…”
“I SAID DO IT, OR I’LL POUND YA!”

Just as Marshall had dipped his hand into the jar, the door of the anatomy room flew open.

“James!”

It was Mr. Lilith.

“Release that child at once and put back that specimen jar!”

Lilith had always been in the way of Jim’s bullying, constantly thwarting his plans of torture. This was one reason why James hated him.

Professor Lilith taught the anatomy class that Jimmy had been forced to take since his first year as a senior. It was in Jim’s best interest however that this class was on his schedule, as it was well-known to be one of the easiest classes to pass. This is the sole explanation for why his advisor had assigned it to him.

Lilith was a middle aged man, with an obsession for teeth. Nearly his entire course was a discussion of them. Alignment, configuration, structure, function, and hygiene. Thus it is only fitting that a man who teaches of the perfection and beauty of the human mouth would himself have immaculate teeth. This assumption was absolutely proven in the case of Mr. Lilith. His untarnished, unstained teeth were a mirror of the human obsession for cleanliness, and elegance. Flawlessly polished and positioned, symmetrical in every direction, as impeccable as to bring the tooth fairy to tears, and equally as pleasant. When an encounter was personal enough, the scent of peppermint and daffodils could be detected. His oral aroma was so magnificent that he had won over many women in his younger years solely because of it. Just as his father, and his father before him, so too did Lilith possess the utopian 32; perfect teeth.

His only oral imperfection, as trivial as it was to many, is that upon listening carefully one could detect a slight mispronunciation when he verbalized any word containing the letter “s”. It exited his throat like a snake, and hissed and lisped to his student ears. It wasn’t clear whether or not Lilith realized his own impediment, but some who heard him speak noticed it immediately. It was the sort of problem that would prevent certain pretentious people from speaking to him entirely, often isolating him from the proverbial water fountain gossip and lunchroom chatter common amongst educators.

Regardless, Professor Lilith cared very much for just about everyone, including Jimmy. He even proposed after school tutoring for him, and always awarded a “D” grade on all the projects and tests that Jim never bothered to take. He understood the difficult situation that James was in and offered sympathy and assistance whenever needed (which in Jim’s case was often). But none of this meant anything to Jimmy; he loathed and resented his teacher’s flawlessly sublime teeth, because his own were so disgusting. Thus he hated the man altogether.

The phone rang

It was Mr. Lilith who was calling to demand James’ attendance.

Slowly, reluctantly, he rose from his warm bed like Dracula from the coffin. In the same methodic fashion as mornings prior, he fell into the only pair of overalls that he owned, tied up his boots (never taking them off even to sleep) and stumbling out of the ramshackle shed that he called home, shuffled towards school.

The fact that James had made it to his senior year of high school was enough to amaze most outsiders. The truth however was that most of his teachers had advanced him simply because they feared the imminent retaliation that would result from his own realization of failure. No one doubted that he would practice the same abusive techniques on the faculty (or anyone for that matter) that he used on his classmates. Thus he was given senior student status, although he had not actually passed a grade since 3rd.

When James arrived at the two story schoolhouse, he was disappointed and a bit surprised by the absence of others in the hallways. He was late and most of them were likely sitting attentively inside the many classrooms, a large percentage of which he himself had never stepped foot into.

But there was that one room that he knew, number 1-897, the anatomy room. This was his favorite room for torture; it was filled with body parts taken from various animals. The formaldehyde filled jars were the basis for many classroom shenanigans. None of the other students would touch the glass containers, but they all had stories for them. Some of the students joked that the fingers, toes, and organs were human, and that Lilith had gotten them himself. They drew witty cartoons of him thieving the parts from various locations, morgues, cemeteries, and hospitals. It was the students’ way of anonymously teasing the teacher without unwanted recompense.

As he entered the dusky, desolate room his fingers searched for the light switch.

A voice from the dark whispered, “A little lower”

James flinched and quickly moved his hand up and down the wall, surprised and anxious he flicked on the lights, to see who else was there.

It was Marshall.

“Glad you could make it--Gums, ready for round two?”

Before Jim even had the time to be shocked by this brash statement of his former prey; his head was met by a blunt object apparently swung with significant force. He heard a second voice just before blacking out.

“Let’sh take him to the closhet”

When Jimmy awoke he was enveloped in darkness, and a horrific sensation was felt in the back of eye sockets. A pain similar to that experienced when you stare at the sun, like a vice clamped onto your optic nerve. He couldn’t see anything.

After sitting for what felt like hours, he heard the creak of a door, and the footsteps of two people.

“Wh-who’s there?” was all he could manage, still in immense pain.

There was no response.

“Hello?”, he asked again.

This time he got a response, albeit not one he had desired. He felt someone’s hands grabbing at his face and jaw, prying open his mouth. He tried to fight it but the force was too powerful. Now he felt something abhorrently slimy touch his lips. He still couldn’t see.

“Eat ‘em” a voice said calmly.

“Wh-what?”

“EAT ‘EM, NOW!”

Before Jim could react the oozing, mucus covered objects were thrust into his mouth, and his jaw held shut. As they lay on his tongue, a repulsive realization dripped through his mind. He knew now, why he couldn’t see. Disgusted and queasy, Jim fought to expel the objects of displeasure from his mouth.

But he was restrained, and forced to swallow them, whole.

“It’sh time shon” one of the voices said.

The restraining hands now moved over his throat, massaging the muscle beneath his jaw line. Squeezing and strangling his neck. But the hands weren’t intent on killing him. Jim could still breathe with ease.

“Is it soft enough now dad?”

“Perfect”, was the only reply, as Jimmy felt a set of perfectly sharp teeth, biting at his exposed neck.