Dressed in a good suit, the sort he’d wear to an official meeting with the Invictus, hoping to make a good impression. It was probably wasted. Still... he adjusted his tie, rubbed his buzzed hair a few times, and stepped into Azamel’s home. A vivid imagination painted for him a merry picture, lots of ways he could die down here, probably while having a private conversation with a monster out of a Stephen King novel.But she wasn’t there.He stopped at the stage, where the old woman kept her. I saw little sharp points under her shirt.“Ms. Henderson, this is my son Derek. I told you about him.Derek this is Ms. Henderson, your new math teacher.”“Hi, Ms. Henderson. I sure do like your little red car, that thing is so pretty.”“Thank you, Derek. Your mom tells me you’re a math whiz. I’m looking forward to having you in my class.”She looked at my shorts, and I looked down, then slid off the stool to sit at the table. My damn dickhead was sticking out about three inches past my shorts. More

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