Hold Your Tongue

The constant staring was something Charlie was going to have to get used to again, as was the whispering from the cliques with nothing else to talk about. The girl had to deal with the same after the shooting, except those people also questioned her sanity and how she survived. Even when the official report was released explaining her ‘story’ - where she tried to hide from Rupert but was confronted by him and was told he loved her and would do anything for her - she continued to receive hateful remarks.

So while she sat in the library in front of her laptop, Charlie couldn’t help but notice the hushed conversations that made her ears burn. The student could feel those staring eyes slicing into the back of her head, making her roll her own at the pathetic gossipers. Luckily enough, she had to get to her first Biology class of the semester.

After packing up her things, the brunette turned and walked through the room towards the exit, glaring into the eyes of the people who watched her causing them to blush and look away embarrassed. It made her smirk, feeling happy with the reaction she had on others. It was the same situation when she strolled across campus.

Upon reaching the auditorium, she found there to only be a couple others in the room. There was still another 12 minutes before the lecture started so Charlie chose a seat, again taking one at the front. She took out her laptop and opened up the page she was last on; a news website describing The Tongue Twister’s previous victims. The student found information claiming the fatalities were alive when their tongues were severed, the killer most likely making them hold an instrument themselves, possibly pliers, as their tongue was cut off.

The locations where the bodies had been found were all placed in the open, right in the view for everyone to see. The first victim, a 54 year old man named Richard Emslie, was found in a play park by a couple of children after school. The second, another male only this time he was 19, his name Sean Henderson, was found on a bench by a bus driver. The third, Satyaki Banerjee, a 38 year old mother of three, was discovered in an alleyway by a woman on her way to work. And the fourth, the unnamed male, was found on the beach by a couple dog walkers.

There was no pattern, no way of knowing who would be next or who should be more wary than others. All were from different backgrounds, classes, and ethnic groups. Only two details were the same; the county they lived in and the way their bodies were posed, with the ankles and wrists bound, and their cupped hands holding the severed muscle. The way the victims died was through suffocation, with their mouths and nose being covered as they drowned in their blood.

Just as Charlie was about to click on a link which would take her to some leaked photographs of the crime scenes, the door to the room loudly shut, distracting her. She hadn’t noticed the other students wander in, filling up most of the seats, so when she looked up from her screen she was quite surprised.

“I’m Professor Bennet, and welcome to Year One Neuroscience Biology,” a smooth English voice spoke from the front of the room. “These classes will be split, half being lectures and the other being lab work. Both will be taught by me, with the exception of a few classes where Professor Kashnikov will…”

The man kept speaking but Charlie wasn’t listening. She was overwhelmed by the lecturer’s good looks and his charming, yet peculiar, attitude.

He was in his mid thirties, with short, dark, wavy hair and the bluest of blue eyes. His skin was clear, bar a couple beauty spots, and his body was lean. He was tall, around 6ft, and his frame was dressed in the sharpest of suits. When he removed his suit jacket, it showed exactly how well his shirt and trousers fit him. The man’s angular features were that of a model’s; the kind in which only few found attractive. But it was those blue eyes that were the most breathtaking aspect of the man, visually anyway.

Sure, Charlie had been with a couple men in the past but they were never more than a plaything for her to use and, in Rupert’s case, exploit. She didn’t want them, she just needed them to help her get her own way.

However, when she examined Professor Bennet, something inside of her changed. She wasn’t sure what it was or how to even describe it. Her heart seemed to race a little, like how it did when she shot all those people. Her mouth was dry and her mind was blank as she continued to watch him. Charlie didn’t know what it was that made her feel this way, whether it had something to do with the Professor or if it was all just her imagination.

The man continued to talk, but when he started on the actual lecture topic, the student snapped out of her reverie and took notes. That was the thing about Charlie; she could separate her thoughts completely when she needed to, saving her from being burdened by one thing when she was doing something else.

“Honestly, is it so difficult for you to shut your mouths or at the very least whisper amongst yourselves instead of disrupting my class?” Professor Bennet bellowed, silencing the room. His glare fell upon a group of four near the back corner of the auditorium, three males and one female. “Well? Do tell us what’s more important than the education of the majority of people in here?”

Every student’s pair of eyes were either glued to the exasperated lecturer or to the embarrassed undergraduates in the back. However, Charlie’s view didn’t move from the notes on the screen of her laptop.

“Don’t make me ask again,” the man barked, making everyone jump in their seats.

One of the males spoke up after a few moments of deliberation, clearing his throat and attempting to find the words as the mass of students scrutinized him. “Um, well, we were just talking about how our class includes, uh, Charlotte Oakley of the, eh, Oxford shooting,” the boy mumbled, causing the entire room to look in different directions, all searching for said person.

Charlie, on the other hand, sat completely still, her jaw clenched and her fists tight. She controlled her emotions as best as she could, which appeared to be perfectly concealed on the outside. The girl didn’t raise her head, even when she felt the whole room staring at her.

“Miss Oakley,” Bennet addressed, making her look up to meet his almost playful gaze. “It seems you are somewhat of a celebrity.”

The girl didn’t say a word in return, just looked back at the man expectantly. She couldn’t decipher his expression, couldn’t figure out what he was thinking and that fact made her uneasy. People were predictable, Professor Bennet was not.

“You four, come down here,” he ordered all of a sudden, quickly spinning on his heels and fetching some paper. When the group reached the front of the room, Bennet eyed them up before placing the paper on Charlie’s desk in front of her. “Miss Oakley, if you would be so kind, I think your admirers want an autograph and maybe a few words.”

Charlie gazed at the man, baffled and irritated. Was he mocking her?

“‘To whom it may concern,’” he started, prompting the girl to write down what he was saying, “‘I am utterly thrilled my traumatic experience has entertained you to the point where your prestigious education has been put on the backburner. But I must advise you to keep your mouth closed for future reference.’ Signed, Charlotte Oakley.”

The auditorium filled with hushed sniggering as the faces of all four gossipers turned bright red. Charlie quickly wrote out the message another three times before signing them all and handing them back to the Professor. She found the situation a little amusing but she was more impressed by the man’s dominance.

“Beautiful,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling as he read it over while Charlie let a smile of her own settle on her full lips. The lecturer handed the slips of paper to each standing individual then dismissed them back to their seats. “Now, can we get back to the lesson or do I need to make another demonstration?” When no one replied, he continued from where he left off, his strong voice booming in the silence.

At the end of the lesson, Bennet asked to speak to Charlie before she left. She stood in front of his desk while everyone else filed out, and when the last person exited the room, the older man strolled over to her.

“Miss Oakley, I must apologise for making a spectacle of you in today’s class,” he said, his expression back to being impassive which matched the student’s.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” the girl replied, diverting her gaze away from the remarkable eyes of the Professor but she couldn’t keep her sight off him for long.

“I bet you are,” Bennet’s voice deepened, his eyes darkened, and his vacant stare morphed into a dark smoulder, a look Charlie was somehow able to match. There was something about the man that took her interest, that made her feel unsure and yet fascinated. So as blue eyes pierced into blue, Charlie couldn’t help but smirk at the man.

Though it only felt like a minute at the most, nearly ten had passed before Bennet spoke again. “I better let you get on with the rest of your day, Miss Oakley.” The student shifted her heavy gaze and took a step back.

He watched her as she turned and walked to the door, but just as she was about to leave, he uttered, “Oh, and Charlotte? It wasn’t my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, so I apologise once more if I did.”

“You didn’t, sir,” she replied with another slight smirk, then left the room and strutted down the hall.