Enjoy my story published in the What If #3 Anthology
The Anthology Series
The sound of Madame Chloe’s red stiletto heels in the hallways would quiet the students and teachers. When she walked by, an icy chill filled the air.
Sara, a sixteen-year-old brunette with an athletic physique,
was a new student at Hillcrest Boarding School. She was unhappy to leave her
friends behind, but her father insisted on moving her to a more prestigious
school. “The last two years are most critical before continuing your education,”
he said. “And Hillcrest is the finest. Nearly all of their students get into
reputable universities.”
Her parents were impressed by Madame Chloe, the school
principal, especially her mother who embraced her role as a socialite in high
society circles. At their meeting, Madame Chloe dressed impeccably in expensive
and fashionable name-brand outfits, and the way she presented herself and the
school's achievements instantly won them over.
At first, Sara found the principal charming as well.
However, as the conversation progressed, the way Madame Chloe’s eyes darted to
her and scanned her entire body, made her uncomfortable. Despite the flashing
of those dark brown eyes only lasting for a split second, Sara sensed something
sinister behind the pleasant exterior of the woman’s lovely smile, pristine
clothes, manicured nails, and flawless hairstyle.
Sara always listened to her gut feelings and begged her
parents not to make her change schools, but her parents, visibly mesmerized by
the principal’s performance, made their final decision despite Sara's weak
objections. “You know nothing about life! Gut feelings are not reliable,” her
mother shouted. “The school’s reputation is impeccable. You’re going to be a
student there, and that's final.”
Sara gave in and hesitantly accepted her parents' decision
and moved into her new school's dorm at Hillcrest. Knowing that every school
has its social hierarchy, she thought she would need some time to fit in and
catch up. However, it soon became apparent that this school was different from
others.
There was no hierarchy among teachers or students. There
were subordinates and only one top dog: the principal and history professor,
Madame Chloe. Her authority and dominance were obvious as she walked in her
signature bright red stiletto-heel shoes, her cold eyes darting from student to
student. The sound of those heels in the hallways would quiet the students and
even the fellow teachers. When she walked past, a chill filled the air. Her
presence commanded fear and obedience from everyone around her. Sara couldn't
help but wonder what it must be like to have that kind of authority and
influence over so many people.
Madame Chloe ruled with an iron fist and Sara soon heard
rumors that her physical fist brutally broke several bones over the years.
Students had no one to report the physical abuse to, and unfortunately, by the
time they were allowed to see their parents, their injuries had healed. Because
of the school's reputation and the highly respected principal's words against
the students, people dismissed the complaints as childish rumors. The injured
students had no proof.
Although Sara had a hard time keeping her rebellious nature
under control, she kept quiet while keeping her eyes and ears open. Until…
about two weeks into the school year, she stood by her locker across from
Madame Chloe's office when she saw her classmate, a petite blonde girl
staggering out of the room. Vera sobbed pressing her hand to her side, visibly
in pain.
Sara followed her into the bathroom, where two girls stood
by the sink and hugged the crying girl.
“You’ll be alright,” Kate, a dark-skinned statuesque girl
whispered, wiping Vera’s tears.
“I can’t take it anymore!” Vera cried. “This was the third
time this week and she didn’t even tell me why I deserved such a harsh
punishment. My leg is still bruised where she kicked me two days ago.” She
rolled down her knee-high socks. She gasped and stood up, her face contorting
in pain. She held her side. “I think she broke my ribs this time,” she sobbed.
Mary, a plump redhead, huffed. “She’s a cruel sadist! She
yanked my hair so hard yesterday that she pulled out a strand and my scalp bled
all afternoon. All because when the monster said, ‘eyes on your books’ I looked
at Vera.”
“Why doesn't anyone do something about this?” Sara asked,
closely watching the group's reaction.
“What can we do? We can’t
prove anything,” Kate shrugged despairingly, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Nobody
believes us, not even our parents.”
“What about the teachers?” Sara
questioned.
Mary shook her curly hair. “They know what’s happening but
are too scared to say anything. The only teacher who was brave enough to gather
evidence against this monster disappeared before you got here.”
“What do you mean by disappeared? Did she leave school?”
Sara asked. The three girls seemed to sense
Sarah’s authoritative yet compassionate nature and opened up.
“Oh, no,” Kate shivered and said, “Miss Clara was in my room
that night, taking pictures of my bruised ribs and
listened to the tape I recorded on the small
device she gave me. I hid the recorder in my underwear and turned it on when I
was ordered to Madame Chloe’s room. She beat me so badly that day... the more I
screamed and begged her to stop, the more she hit me. Just remembering her
face, how much she enjoyed watching me wiggle in pain, and the obscenities
coming out of her painted mouth, makes me nauseous.”
“We never saw Miss Clara again and those who dared to ask
either were ignored by the teachers or got a severe beating from that red shoe
monster,” Mary added. “I swear I’m never going to
wear red shoes as long as I live.”
“Does she treat every student like this?” Sara asked.
“Oh, no!” Vera
sighed. “She picks her targets very carefully, and the three of us are the ones who take the brunt of her
punishment.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“We all come from poor, broken families, and the only way we
could be students here is because we’re exceptionally smart. We were picked in
our old schools by “Good Samaritan” rich sponsors who paid our tuition that we
would pay back with loyalty and dedicated work later,” Kate whispered with
tears in her eyes, but Sara sensed sarcasm behind her words. “My mother is so
blinded by the opportunity she never had that no matter what I tell her about
the abuse, she finds excuses and shuts me up. ‘Just keep quiet. It’s for your future’ she always says.”
“That’s terrible!” Sara cried
out. “She should listen to you and protect you.”
“Easy for you to say!” Vera snapped. “My mother is just a
lowly cleaning woman and not a duchess like yours. Nobody would believe her if
she complained to the authorities. And if she took me home, without my
sponsor’s money, I wouldn't have the opportunity to get a high-quality
education. That monster knows exactly who to pick to live out her sick
fantasies on. She never picks kids from influential, rich families.”
“I’m so sorry! We can’t let her get away with this. We must
stop that pervert!” Sarah scanned the girls' faces.
“And why would you help us?” Mary asked with doubt in her
voice.
“Nobody should be treated like this!” Sara angrily replied. “You’re
all smarter and more talented than me. You shouldn’t have to suffer for the
education my parents’ money can easily pay for.”
The group stared at Sara with hope in their eyes when the
bell rang. “Okay, let’s get back to class and play the role of the most
diligent and most obedient student. Tell me everything you know when we have a chance to talk again in private, and
we’ll come up with a plan to stop her. When we have enough evidence, I’ll talk
to my Godfather. His law firm is the biggest and most influential in the
country.”
The trio listened to Sara with hopeful smiles. Kate said, “The
best place to talk privately is the library because nobody spends time there
lately unless they really have to. It stinks there and nobody knows why,” Kate
said, wrinkling her nose.
Everyone agreed and the next day during the long recess they
met in the library. They chose a secluded corner where nobody could overhear
them. “It stinks here,” Mary grimaced. “No wonder we’re the only ones here.”
The four girls sat close to each other. “I don’t care
about the smell,” Sara whispered. “At least we can talk without anybody
disturbing us. What do you know about Miss Clara’s disappearance? Did anyone
see her after she left Kate’s room?” She asked.
Vera whispered back, “A girl in my French class told me that
she saw Madame Chloe and Miss Clara walking down the hall late at night when
she was coming back from the bathroom. She wondered what they were doing in the dorm building so late. She considered
following them but was too scared to be seen by the principal, so she closed
the door.”
“Did anyone see Miss Clara after that?” Sara asked.
“We asked the teachers and a lot of students, but nobody saw
her after that night,” Kate replied anxiously wringing her fingers.
“So, they walked together, and nobody
ever saw Miss Clara again,” Sara speculated. “I assume the monster
didn’t offer any explanation, or did she?”
“Of course not!” Mary huffed. “And nobody dared to ask her.”
“Shh!” Sara hushed the others and looked at the librarian
and a short, balding man in a janitor
uniform. He was walking toward the window at
the far side of the large room with disgusted looks on their faces.
“Phew!” Mr. Smith exclaimed. “You were right, Miss Rose. It
still stinks here.”
“You must do something about it! It smells like a dead rat
or rather an army of dead rats,” the tall, bony woman whose face resembled a
horse exclaimed.
“Miss, I have searched the library many times over the past
two weeks and have not found any dead animals.” What else can I do?”
“Search again!” the woman ordered.
The janitor threw his arms up in desperation, turned, and
walked away from the librarian.
Sara watched him as he walked toward the door, sneaking a
side glance at the girls sitting in the
corner. “My intuition tells me he knows something,” Sara whispered. “We have to
talk to that man.” She stood up and hurried toward the door trailed by the
three girls.
They caught up with the janitor in the hallway leading to
the classrooms. “Mr. Smith,” Sara called out to the man walking in deep
thought.
“Yes, Miss,” he turned toward Sara and scanned the group
walking behind her.
“Can we talk to you?” Sara asked.
The janitor seemed surprised. “Yes, Miss.” But his eyes
anxiously locked on the principal's door. “But not here,” he muttered. “If
Madame Chloe saw me talking to students, I’d be in big trouble. You can find me
in the maintenance room in the basement after dinner.” He said and hurried
away.
They spent the rest of the day trying not to draw the
principal’s attention to themselves. After dinner when the hallways were empty,
they tiptoed toward the basement door. “What if the monster caught us?” Sara
asked.
“Oh, everybody knows that after dinner she locks herself in
her room and watches sadist porn movies. She never comes out of her room before
ten to shut off the lights.” Mary said in disgust.
“How do you know?”
“Miss Clara told us. That was the only time she dared to
come to our rooms to gather proof against the monster.”
They opened the basement door and crept down the steps. The
warm musty air tickled their noses with the heavy smell of chemicals. The
janitor waited for them and ushered them into the maintenance room. Sara
decided to tell him everything they knew. She assured him that if he knew
anything about the abuse and disappearance of Miss Clara, even the smallest
detail. “My uncle is the Chief of Police,” Sara assured the janitor. “If we
could provide him with solid proof and information, I’m sure he would close the
school and start an investigation. And my godfather's law firm would surely
protect you.”
“I believe you, Miss. Your family’s ties are stronger and
higher than Madame Chloe’s, so when it comes to
that, I know they would protect me,” Mr. Smith nodded. “I know things,
but I’ve been afraid to tell anyone. People
who dare to say anything and Madame Chloe
finds out who the whistleblower is, they vanish.”
“If you feel uncomfortable, you don’t even need to tell us
what you know. Just tell me you have solid proof and I’ll set up a meeting with
my uncle.”
The janitor sighed and with a determined look on his face
started talking. “I know the way she’s treated some of the students. She’s a
sick woman. Miss Clara told me and gave me some pictures to keep them safe. But
we didn’t know who to trust. Two years ago, another teacher gathered enough
proof and reported it to a lieutenant at the station. She disappeared the next
day and the evidence vanished with her.”
The three girls looked at each other. “Miss Antoinette,”
Mary whispered. “She was my favorite teacher.”
Mr. Smith nodded. “Nobody knew what had happened to her, but
a week after Miss Clara’s sudden disappearance, the awful smell in the library
made me remember something. Back then the smell of decay lingered for months,
and we never found out where it came from. But yesterday, after I talked to the librarian, I got the school
building blueprint from the secretary. I noticed that there is a room right under the library in the basement
that I’d never seen. I measured the distance from the boiler room and there was
nothing there but a brick wall at the end of the hallway
where the blueprint indicates a small room. But when I carefully looked at
every inch of the wall, I found a keyhole and some brick dust underneath it on
the floor.”
“That must be a hidden door!” Sara shouted.
“That’s what I think, and the smell is strongest there.”
“Do you… do you think Miss Clara is there… dead?” Kate cried out.
“After thinking things over, I’m afraid so, Miss.”
Sara shivered. “We must find the key and look inside. But
where could it be?”
“I’m almost certain Madame Chloe has the key,” the janitor
said. “The night Miss Clara disappeared I was working late. When I finished
around 2 am and stepped out into the hallway, I saw Madame Chloe walking up the
steps barefoot. I wondered what she was doing in the basement in the middle of
the night and why she wasn’t wearing those awful red shoes.”
“That’s it! We have to find that key in the principal’s
office,” Sara decided.
“But how? She always locks the door when she’s not in the
office,” Mary objected.
Mr. Smith raised his hand to quiet the girls. “No need for
that!” he said calmly. “I just made a wax impression of the keyhole and tonight
I’ll make a copy of the key from the impression. Meet me here tomorrow night
and I’ll tell you what I found in that room. Now go back to your rooms but be
careful.”
Sleep avoided the girls all night and the next day dragged
on. Finally, after dinner when the halls
quieted down and the students retreated into their rooms to study, the four
friends tiptoed to the basement door and hurried down the stairs. Mr. Smith
awaited them sitting on the bench with a dire expression on his face and his shoulders slumped.
“What did you find?” Sara asked.
“I… I found both of them,”
he cried out. “Poor Miss Antoinette and poor Miss Clara!” He sobbed.
“Are they both…” Kate
didn’t finish.
“Yes, Miss. Both are dead.”
***
The following morning, Sara sought permission to call her
father. Switching to French—a language unbeknownst to the eavesdropping
secretary who monitored all student calls—she recounted every harrowing detail,
from their eerie findings to the grim discovery of lifeless bodies hidden in
the basement. Her voice trembled as she spoke, yet she conveyed each word with
precision.
“Hold on and don’t say anything to anyone,” her father
instructed after absorbing the gravity of her revelations. “I'll handle
everything. We'll arrive with your uncle and a team of detectives as swiftly as
possible.”
During the bustling lunch hour, the previously tranquil
corridors of Hillcrest School were now a hive of activity, teeming with
policemen and detectives. They converged upon the building like ants for a
picnic, driven by their urgent purpose. The atmosphere was charged with
tension, palpable in every corner as students and teachers clustered together
in the dining room, exchanging hushed whispers filled with anxiety and
speculation.
Without warning, the dining room door slammed shut, and the
sharp clatter of locks clicking reverberated through the room, sending a shiver
down everyone’s spine. The atmosphere grew tense as they were summoned one by
one into a cramped side room for intense interrogation. As the hours dragged
on, a heavy mountain of evidence and damning testimonies piled up against
Madame Chloe. She stood accused of heinous crimes – the brutal abuse of
children and the cold-blooded murder of two innocent souls.
The once intimidating figure of Madame Chloe was now a mere
shell, being led away in handcuffs by the authorities. News of her downfall
spread like wildfire through Hillcrest School, bringing with it a sense of
relief. The oppressive atmosphere that once hung over the school, fueled by
fear and uncertainty at the sound of red stiletto heels clicking down the
halls, was now lifted. Justice had been served and peace could finally be
restored.
