One…two…Kandy’s coming for you!
Jesse Walters woke with a scream. He wrestled in the tangle of his bedsheets. The light fixture in the ceiling fan above him flashed on, and the kind, wrinkled face of Grandpa Jack entered the blue-walled bedroom to see what was happening. Whiffs of white hair stood on end while the old man wore his green-checkered thermal pajamas. Grandpa complained that Grandma Eunice always kept the house a frigid 65-degrees year-round. That was far too cold for his old bones, and Jesse freely admitted his young ones, too.
“Boy?” Grandpa questioned with gravel in his throat by the sound before clearing it with a cough, “You okay?”
Jesse nodded while wiping the sweat from his forehead and sighed to see the safety of his room rather than that scary other place. The dream seemed so real as he shivered yet was comforted by the presence of his favorite grandparent. Grandpa Jack fought the terrors of Vietnam and wasn’t afraid of anything after that, he always told his grandson.
Already the fright Jesse experienced from the nightmare and the horrific things he had seen faded thankfully from his memory. His heart drumming in his chest slowed enough for him to take a drink of water waiting for him at his bedside, thanks to Grandma. Bad dreams were common for Jesse ever since he could remember, but this one tonight was petrifying. He just could not remember why.
“Yeah. I think so. I’m sorry to wake you, Grandpa,” the boy replied sheepishly with his head down. Jesse drank some more water before settling the cup back on the nightstand.
“Alright.” Grandpa began trying to tuck the blond teenager into his bed like he did when he was little. Jesse wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore. He sprouted two inches taller than the old man with a deeper voice, and hair everywhere like his father when he turned the same age of 18.
Through the open door, they both heard Grandma Eunice yell, “Did Jesse have another bad dream from those damn scary stories you keep tellin’, old man?”
“No, Ma. Now go on back to sleep. I’ve got this!” Grandpa yelled back with annoyance at her accusation.
“Well, you better not be tellin’ him any more of those awful stories!” she grumbled, and they both heard the other door shut firmly.
Grandpa sighed with the roll of his eyes, and Jesse smiled a little as he ran his hand through his sweaty hair to keep it from drooping in his face.
“Sorry, Grandpa.” Jesse frowned with his smile vanishing. The last thing he wanted was to get Grandpa in trouble.
The old man patted his leg and shook his head. “No worries, boy. I can handle her fine. I’m more worried about you. You sure you’re alright? You look shaken.”
Jesse tried to smile, but he couldn’t. He usually didn’t remember much from his dreams except one thing. Her. There was this woman, and she was very clear in his dream. In fact, he could not keep his eyes off her. The reaction of his body once seeing her made clear his attraction to her. The woman’s body wore not a stitch of clothing. With an hourglass shape, it had full breasts and a set of huge nipples standing out on them. Not one long copper-golden hair was out of place in its curled under style at the ends.
The face of the strange woman in his dream hid in shadow. Jesse knew though that she beckoned him closer to her. He found his legs obeying the nonverbal command. Never could he say that he heard her speak.
Jesse wanted to come. Even though something at the back of his mind told him to stay away, that she was dangerous, he went at her bidding. Something was not right about her, however. On a cold whisper at his ear, he heard her name and felt the scrape of fingernails outside of his cotton underwear.
“Grandpa, can I ask you something?” Jesse asked with the rise of his head.
The older man lowered to sit next to his grandson. “Of course, buddy, anything.”
Jesse rubbed his eyes, blinked at Grandpa, and then swallowed. “Who’s Kinky Kandy?” the boy inquired, barely able to get it out. He shivered a little, still feeling the cold at his ear whisper that name. Jesse fingered the earlobe absently.
Grandpa’s face paled as his watery blue eyes widened, and he leaned closer. Almost quietly, he questioned, “Where did you hear that name?”
Jesse lived as a transplant in the town with his father after the divorce from Mom. Dad was in the military, and so was Mom. Different branches of the government had them busy globe-trotting. Jesse wanted to stay in one place for once in the 18 years he’d been doing it. However, he didn’t want to have the choice of choosing between traveling with Mom or Dad. Way too difficult.
In speaking to his grandparents about it with whom he was close, the whole idea came about Jesse maybe staying with them. It surprised him when they expressed how thrilled they were to have him his high school years. From ninth grade to his senior, Jesse saw one consistent bedroom, which was where he stayed whenever he visited them in the past.
The boy was so happy to spend time with his deployed parents at their respective residences in Greensboro when they returned to the US. Mom and Dad both were raised in the small town and considered it home. They also agreed that was definitely the best place for Jesse, whose grades significantly improved with the change in living arrangements. So did his bouts of depression when his parents fought over him. Neither parent worried about him getting worse, and Jesse didn’t have anxiety about moving or making new friends.
With such a background, Grandpa Jack understood that there was no way his grandson would know that terrible part of Greensboro history no one in their right mind ever uttered. Further, long before now, Jesse would have been taught to squash any talk about that despicable person.
“I-I think I heard it in my dream. Who is she?” Jesse asked with the turn of his head in a study of the old man.
Grandpa stood with the nervous run of his hand through his white hair, standing on his head. It looked even crazier than before. “A dream you said, boy?”
“Yeah, I don’t remember much,” the younger man responded even as he could see the shapely woman with the body that made his cock stiffen until she touched it. For some reason, it embarrassed him to speak of her. “J-j-just that name.”
In an almost hushed and rushed voice Grandpa warned, “Don’t ever speak it again around me, definitely not Ma or anyone in town.”
Jesse’s eyebrows met in confusion. “But—”
Grandpa Jack turned suddenly with a look that seemed full of fear. He grabbed the young man in the bed by his bare shoulders and shook him. “Never, Jesse!”
“But why are you so scared?”
Grandpa Jack removed his hands from the wide-eyed boy and sighed backing away. “Come sit with me on the porch. I need some air.”
Jesse climbed out of bed and struggled to tug on a white T-shirt on his perspiring backside. He followed his grandfather outside on the porch with a stop by the kitchen. They both poured glasses of water from a pitcher in the refrigerator. The weather had not turned yet. It was still warm for October, and so they did not need their coats. Grandpa Jack closed the front and screen doors softly. Jesse went immediately to the porch swing, where he settled his water behind him on the railing before sitting. He waited patiently for Grandpa to start.
The old man drank from his glass after sitting in his wooden rocking chair. He put it to the side on a small table. From the pocket of his robe, he pulled a corncob pipe, a tin of tobacco, and a book of matches. Grandpa Jack never smoked often but continued the tradition after his grandfather.
Jesse watched the old man pinch tobacco into the little corncob bowl and then struck a match to light it. Grandpa’s grave face was illuminated in the flicker before he puffed smoke. He rocked in his chair for a moment without saying a word to the younger man.
With one leg tucked beneath him and the other dangling over the side, Jesse rocked in the swing for as long as he could before he asked, “Did I say or do something wrong?”
The boy frowned, unsure what just happened as he reviewed everything since his nightmare. He started to worry because his grandfather was the bravest man he ever knew next to his parents, of course.
Grandpa Jack opened his eyes and smiled with reassurance as he held the pipe. “I’m sorry, Jesse. It’d been so long since I heard that—that name is all. Things seemed to be going well in our little town again. Some 35 years ago, I couldn’t say the same, and it was because of her at least until she died.”
Jesse inquired tentatively but was beyond curious what or who could make Grandpa act that way, “Who was she?”
“I’ll tell you the story, but you must never repeat it to anyone, okay? And never… ever speak her name. Promise me.”
Jesse nodded, eager to hear the story because Grandpa Jack always told the best ones. “I promise.”
Grandpa cleared his throat with the growing dread that fell upon him in the task. Already his mind spun back in time as he puffed smoke from his pipe. He hoped that past slept and would remain distant. Perhaps he needed to tell someone of that horrid time that he tried to bar from his dreams. Or maybe, just maybe the old man felt it, too. An ominous presence lingered over Greensboro and all the lives of the people who still lived in it. It somehow always would.
Three…four…don’t call her a whore!
Everyone in the small town of Greensboro, population 515, understood some fundamental things despite being so far removed from the big city folks. One being that their reputation was built with the surrounding areas, on the fact that the town grew anything green. Trees, fields, you name it, it was green or green-inspired. All the best greenhouses were established there.
Many said there was something in the soil that made it great for any sort of planting. Vegetables, livestock feed, flowers, or other plants grown in Greensboro flourished the best. Everyone sported beautifully manicured lawns and took great pride in the fact. The garden festivals inspired by each season were celebrated by the community and a major draw by the surrounding county.
Something else that all agreed on was that no one spoke the name Ms. Kandace Lane better known as the town whore Kinky Kandy. Everyone wanted to forget that she was born and raised in their little nugget of a town. Kandace Lane’s legacy left somewhat of an embarrassing stain on their otherwise tight-knit community. It threatened to overshadow all the good they were known for when the news crews showed up on the anniversary of her death every year.
Often the cemetery where Ms. Lane was rumored to be laid to rest was always vandalized. Only a few learned that Kinky Kandy was not entombed there since her body was never found.
“Right. I get that funny look you’re giving me while scratching your head in confusion,” Grandpa Jack said as he chuckled drily. Jesse simply blinked at his Grandpa, wanting to ask a ton of questions. The old man’s hand rose as he puffed on his pipe. “Let’s just say that I’ve lived in this town a long time, boy. The things I’ve seen would flip your grandma’s wig. Okay, just listen, and I’ll tell ya!”
“Oh, alright,” Jesse said with a sigh when he crossed his arms on his chest and tried not to pout.
“So how did we know Kinky Kandy was dead on account that there was no body?” Grandpa Jack asked, and the boy nodded eagerly.
“Trust me, boy. There was no way she could have survived.” He took the pipe from his mouth and held out his wrinkled hand again. Jesse sighed as he sat back in the porch swing. “Hold on now. Don’t get all huffy with me. Give me a chance to explain.”
It all stemmed from her shenanigans with the boys in her high school, where she taught science. Kandace Lane’s reputation spread like wildfire upon her return to her hometown in the fall of 1983. No one recognized the newly confident Kinky Kandy, but all wanted a piece of her.
Five…six…gonna get some licks!
Kandace Lane returned from schooling out west, where she underwent a complete transformation. To many, she gained a lot of experience in many different areas. No one really understood what brought her back to the remote little town of Greensboro, but all welcomed her in the beginning.
Being a first-rate science teacher translated into immediate results for the school, which at the beginning pleased everyone. Ms. Lane really boosted the science scores of all the high school students her first year due to her inspiring influence. Some of the teachers were jealous of the constant attention paid to her academic success, her fancy clothes by name brand designers notwithstanding. Many of her top critics were female because many males in town were said to all like Kinky Kandy. Whether married or single, every guy vied for her affection.
The copper-haired woman with blond highlights and luscious curves seemed to enjoy being the object of every man’s fantasy. She was known to be a flirt and complete tease without giving any guy the payoff he desired. Rumors abound after long, but no one could prove anything except the more Kinky Kandy Lane dismissed the advances of her suitors, the more the men around town wanted her.
Grandpa Jack was just known as Jack the janitor in those days. He saw lots of people come and go at the high school during his 30-year stint there, but the ones with Kandace Lane he recalled vividly.
His long-time sweetheart from the same high school was Eunice. After two years of college, she procured the school secretary's job since the old one retired. Jack stayed in contact with Eunice, knowing early that she was a special girl, his girl, and he wouldn’t do anything to mess that up. Anyway, Eunice helped tremendously to reacclimate Jack to civilian life since his return home from the war in 1975. Her first order of business, of course, had been to urge him to make her not just the woman he shacked up with in her tiny apartment near downtown but his wife. Jack loved Eunice with all his heart yet wasn’t in any hurry to get hitched.
Part of his reluctance involved thinking that his sweetheart could find someone better. Someone less broken by the horrors endured during skirmishes with the Viet Cong was what she deserved. Eunice, a bright and giving girl, never gave up on Jack, though. She believed in their love seeing them through anything. It had during the dark times he was away from her at war once he turned 18, and helped him find his way back to her a different man than when he left. One sure thing was that their love sparked through all the changes and hardships. In 1978, Jack married Eunice, and never regretted that decision. By 1983, they had two children and a third on the way.
Eunice loved being pregnant almost as much as seeing her old friend from elementary school Kandace Lane. However, she did not recognize the stranger who came back to town that infamous year in the early 80s. Time away from Greensboro, changed everything about Kandy, the sweet girl Eunice used to know and play with as a child. Kandace Lane had been timid but nice with buck teeth that had a gap. The woman who returned home was commanding of notice no matter what the stage, voluptuous when she had always been rather thin, with even white teeth minus the gap.
Eunice never had a tolerance for gossip and so had not cared for the mean things she heard about her old friend from the other ladies around town. Her tune changed though after catching Kinky Kandy kissing Jack in her classroom. Eunice believed the rumors, and so ended the friendship she had with her oldest friend.
It took weeks, if not months, for Jack to explain that he hadn’t initiated that kiss, and he wanted no part of that woman either. Hell, he’d been doing his very best to flee temptation! Kinky Kandy caught him though, flashing a bit of leg when she knew damn well Jack would happen by with his mop while scrubbing the hall floors near her classroom.
Kinky Kandy was always sweet to him, attempting idle chitchat whenever she saw him. While polite, Jack never said much. He was uncomfortable around her because he understood how much being alone with Kandy might upset Eunice.
“Hey, Jack! I need you,” Kinky Kandy requested as she poked her head out of her classroom.
Jack’s hair was black then and combed away from his forehead. He sighed, hoping that the sexy teacher had not seen him. Swallowing as he turned, he saw that had not been the case.
Today, Kinky Kandy wore a white blouse and dark green skirt. A very sexy combination with her hair that shined with appeal just like the way she smelled. He shook his head, seeing now that he was doomed.
“Yes? Is something wrong?”
She shook her head and smiled with sweetness. “No. I’ve managed to take down some old posters and need to put up the new ones. Will you help me?”
Jack walked toward her, wearing his coveralls as she gave him a wider smile. He knew with each step that he should find a way out of her request. It seemed innocent enough, though. He would remain on guard and get it done quickly. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”
Kinky Kandy gestured him into her classroom as she headed for a chair near a wall. She rose her skirt, showing off her stockings as she stepped on the chair and bent over at the waist to pick up pins and a poster carefully. He noticed how the chair wobbled if she leaned too much on one side or the other. He instinctively reached to steady it in alarm.
“Yes! Whew! That’s exactly what I need to finish this. Can you hold on to the chair while I pin these up? It should not take so long with your help.”
Jack nodded as he watched her repeatedly bend over hiking up her tight skirt over her round ass and flashing her black stockings held up by lacy black garters. She also smelled good like a spring garden. Jack felt his body reacting to her no matter how he tried to stop it. Kandy was a very attractive woman.
He focused his attention elsewhere, like the posters she displayed. One looked to be a new periodical table. Some of the others included the anatomy of an atom, the illustrated theory of human evolution, and the big bang theory’s explanation of how the universe came into existence. Some of the strongly religious people did not like that evolution was taught in schools, at least, so Jack learned while watching the Phil Donahue talk show, but Greensboro as a whole did not seem to mind.
Somehow Kinky Kandy, who smelled like lavender toppled over in her heels she wore and fell in Jack’s arms. In reward, she kissed him on the mouth. Her hands were in his hair and her tongue in his mouth. He had no idea how this had gone so far south or sprung a raging hard-on!
“Hmmm, Jack, you’re so strong,” she moaned into his mouth, and he settled her on her feet slowly as she slid one arm around his neck. Her other hand ran down his chest and touched his pole, tenting at the front of his dark work coveralls. “Ooo, Jack,” she purred as she pet his cock through his pants. “I’ve seen how you watch me. I bet you’ve wanted to shove this big rod in my pussy while pinning me to my desk, haven’t you?” She giggled and that made him harder with his rushed shuddering breath. “Eunice would never know. Truth is... I want you to.”
Jack shook his head but failed to stop her as she unzipped him and kissed him again at length while stroking his hardness. Kinky Kandy tasted so good, no matter how his mind protested about him being a married man with a wonderful family he sometimes did not deserve. Somehow, he found the strength to shove her soft hands away from him. Jack's hands fumbled to redo his coveralls. However, Kandy remained persistent as she flung herself on him with her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed him hard, and he gasped in shock. That provided all the admittance of her tongue inside him.
“Kandy? Are you still here? How about you come over for some din—” was all Eunice said as she entered her friend’s classroom. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment the moment she laid eyes on her friend standing with her arms around her husband while they kissed.
Jack tore his mouth from Kandy as he thrust her away from him. Wiping his mouth of her lipstick, he saw the betrayal in his wife’s brown eyes. Jack turned a beat red in embarrassment as he approached Eunice.
“Jack? Kandy? How could you?!” Eunice fumed when able to speak again. She backed against the door with her hand clutching her pregnant belly, looking ready to flee.
Jack held out his arms with his palms facing her. “Eunice, wait! Please, let me explain! Kandy asked for my help to—”
“To fuck her like a whore? Is that what she asked, you son of a bitch?!” Eunice slapped him hard across the face before she ran from him and the classroom in tears. “Stay away from me!”
Jack never looked back at the silent teacher in the room. Right in front of him, he saw his life in ruins, and for what? A hot woman who stirred his cock? He was human, but not crazy. No love lived in him for the seductress, and love was what he desired with his sex. Both of these things he always found in his loving relationship with his wife.
Eunice, once she calmed down, listened to Jack apologize and beg to see her and the kids. After an extended period where she even moved out of their house and stayed with her parents, she forgave him, but things were not the same between them for a while. Jack did whatever he had to rebuild her trust in him. Eunice did not make it easy for him, which he expected and invited.
Kandy though? Not one word of forgiveness did she ask. None was given either. The woman was dead to Jack’s wife. Other than passing in the hall with a greeting, Eunice never spoke of Kandy again.
Jack made sure that he never fell for her antics again, where he was left alone with Kinky Kandy. He didn’t trust himself and didn’t seek to test his will, not to act on his lust for her.
Jack had every desire to stay married to the kindest woman in the world. He hurt Eunice more than anyone in his life because of the war. This time with Kandy was not the worst of his shortcomings, but Jack damn sure was not going to blow a good life for the woman his wife called a whore who couldn’t seem to keep her damn legs closed!
The other part of the issue was that the school principal did not look too kindly on school staff dating. Although it was known that some did in secret (ha ha, it was a small town and everyone knew everyone else's business), they never made it public. If smart, those faculty who dated certainly didn’t flaunt it.
Apparently, the rumor was that Principal Egan was rebuffed by a teacher he had feelings for, and she went off to date the coach for the football team. Both of ‘em left Greensboro. They managed somehow to get jobs in another school district in the state, which was just as well. Back in those days, Principal Egan could be a heavy-handed prick. Shortly afterward, the teacher and coach married. It was said that they expected their first child soon.
At that time in 1983, a recession clobbered the economy, with over 12 million people out of work. The Reagan administration scrambled in desperation to bring some relief to the American people who suffered and were angry about the government not doing enough to help them with the necessities for survival. No companies hired anyone.
Everyone stayed in their crummy jobs, fearing the loss of income. Corporations also were going belly up. Jack felt lucky to get on at the school after being let go at the potato chip foundry that closed down. He kept his head down and didn’t make waves despite being the school secretary’s husband.
In the job at the school, some light maintenance was needed besides the general cleaning and dumping the trash. The high school building was erected in 1921, and not many were familiar with the unique breakdowns that happened throughout a school year. Jack did only because he had done the same sort of work at the old foundry to keep it running, which had been built around the same time. He always liked working with his hands and seemed like his father in that he was a natural at fixing things.
The janitorial part of his job was thankless. Kids were so messy, especially in the cafeteria and bathrooms. No one bothered him much either. It seemed a lot of the time Jack was invisible, which never bothered him much. Regardless, Jack could afford to buy his young sons Tonka trucks and his sweet baby girl a Cabbage Patch doll that were must-haves that year.
“Tell me, have you seen her?” one of the male teachers, Mr. Stosick, who taught Special Ed., asked his buddy the Physical Education teacher Mr. Wells. He made the gesture of his hands at his chest of a woman with an ample bosom. Both men stood around the same height. Mr. Stosick was fairer with blond hair like Jack’s wife Eunice (the two were cousins, although not close). He always wore suspenders, although still slim like his father. On the other hand, Mr. Wells was a black man with a small Afro of gray hairs already showing. Jack thought him the most fortunate out of everyone because he always wore the most comfortable running suits with stripes down the sides and sneakers to work every day.
The black man whistled before he laughed. “Yeah, man, that foxy mama’s outta sight!”
Mr. Stosick poured himself his second coffee while on a break between periods in the teacher’s lounge. No other teachers were around, and the two men would not guard their tongues.
Jack happened to be there right after lunch while humming softly to the radio playing in the background that British trio the Police “Someone’s Watching You,” which seemed fitting. He tried not to listen to the teachers who loved to gossip because they didn’t have anything else better to do while on break. However, Jack could not seem to help hearing them while staying busy at the predictable work. Neither teacher noticed him anyhow. That’s frankly the way Jack liked it.
After stirring the cream in his coffee, Mr. Stosick took a sip. “You make that move?”
“Yeah.” Mr. Wells rubbed the back of his Afro with the twist of his full mouth. He didn’t meet his friend’s eyes.
“And?”
The black man shrugged. “You know how it is. Kandy’s just getting settled, and not looking to, uh, takin' on anythin' hot 'n serious and a brotha.”
“Uh-huh, even the ladies' man struck out? And what hope does the rest of us have? I mean I’ve been chasing that cock-tease without so much as a nibble.” Mr. Stosick ran his hands through his hair. “You hear anything like if Kandy’s married? Single? Getting divorced?”
Mr. Wells shook his head with a snicker. “You kiddin’? With those tight fuck-me skirts and low-cut blouses hardly holdin' back those snow globes? It’s no wonder detention is loaded when she’s on the schedule.”
The shorter man rubbed his chin. “Yeah, all those little shits, ogle her amazing nipples.”
“That’s not all their ogling.” The black man rolled his eyes with a snort.
Mr. Stosick’s blue eyes widened. “Oh, yeah?”
“Okay, you didn’t hear it from me.” He leaned in close with a cursory look around, not seeing Jack still cleaning off the tables in the lounge. “I hear that the boys know for a fact Kandy doesn’t wear drawers, and one of ‘em fessed up to glaring at her hairy snatch the whole period.”
His thin mouth fell in an “o” shape before he recovered. “No shit?!”
Mr. Wells marked an invisible “x” over his heart and rose the same right hand beside his tightly coiled hair. “Swear to God, man! I know this kid. He’s square but not a liar. Not usually in trouble either; in the wrong place at the wrong time. Got mixed up with some bullies, and Principal E punished all involved to detention. Overheard the kid talkin’ about his time there and what he saw to another boy who admitted to seeing the same thing when in detention on a different day.”
“She’s on detention duty today, right?”
Mr. Wells nodded with his frown. “Yeah, and what you cookin' up there, white boy?”
“I might see if I can offer any assistance to a colleague,” Mr. Stosick answered with the snap of his suspenders and a lopsided smile.
Mr. Wells waved at him. “Give it up. She’s locked the door on her Kandy store.”
“Not if I find the key,” Mr. Stosick corrected before he finished his coffee and headed off back to his classroom as two female teachers snickered as they entered the lounge.
Jack heard similar rumors and wanted to know if it was true while getting to the bottom of why Kinky Kandy continued to turn guys down for a date. When they still spoke, Mr. Stosick even talked to his “favorite” cousin Eunice about putting in a good word for him, but he and Eunice never got along since that one time during Easter at their grandmother’s house he pushed her out of the tire swing because he wanted a turn where she skinned her knee and ripped her favorite dress. Mr. Wells loved to constantly point out the fact that Mr. Stosick was the only faculty that the school secretary disliked.
Seven…eight…you might be raped!
Mr. Stosick saw Kinky Kandy in the sexy attire she graced daily. Her long sleeve blouse was his favorite color of hunter green with several buttons showing the generous line of where her lovely cleavage met. The pencil skirt hugging her shapely ass was a lighter brown with nude stockings and green suede heels. Always classy on the surface with her make-up, it bordered on slutty like her red lips.
Kinky Kandy was in charge of detention with a full class of the worst of the baddies. Mr. Stosick lingered to help because such a group was notorious for breaking into a fight. He hoped for it so that he could rush in to be the hero and win her attention since she always turned him down for a date.
Almost an hour and a half went by, and nothing but silence came from her classroom. Jack cleaned the floor as he always did at that time of day. He was ignored as he saw his wife’s cousin peeking into Kinky Kandy’s classroom. He tried not to see the teacher’s shock as he opened her door a crack. Jack could hear what went on then. The loud gasps and moans of acquiescence reminded him of a porno he once owned before marriage. The grunts and rhythmic scrapes of furniture thumping the floor drove the image home for him.
Jack purposefully diverted the other way even when Mr. Stosick didn't. The man stayed for a long while yet never stopped what he viewed. Later, Jack remembered hearing Mr. Stosick talk in secret with a group of other male teachers who all lusted after Kinky Kandy sharing his experience. Now they all knew her secret and hoped to utilize it to their benefit.
Jack heard the rumor of what happened that day. In a small town, news of any sort traveled faster than the speed of light. People talked about Kandace Lane liking to provide a different education involving screwing the senior boys. Often in detention to make sure they behaved, it was alleged that she engaged in gangbangs where the boys pleasured her for the time they remained in her care. No wonder not one of them caused trouble except on the days they knew Ms. Lane would be overseeing them.
Jack had been sick the day he heard about Ms. Lane being confronted by the angry male teachers. They swore that they called her out on molesting the teenaged boys. In truth, the teachers were furious not to be in on the action themselves and demanded their turn.
“Go fuck yourselves!” Kandy spat at them after hearing their pitch of blackmail.
“Get her!” Mr. Stosick shouted as the men grabbed her and dragged her out of her classroom, hogtied and gagged.
They carried her down to the pool, which was not in use that day, and began dunking her head in the water. She fought and screamed but refused to agree to fuck any of them. She laughed instead.
“You limp dick motherfuckers!” Kandy mocked in her fury while gasping for breath. “I wouldn’t fuck you for all the tea in China! Not even if they promise me millions would I touch any of you pathetic losers!”
That did not sit well with Mr. Stosick, who beat her unconscious. When she woke, she did so screaming as the same man slammed his prick into her without care for her readiness. When he came in seconds, he allowed his buddies to get their nut off, too. None cared how Kandace Lane shouted for release or tried to fight. The men laughed as they held her down while each raped her.
The abuse spread to each hole she owned. Kinky Kandy was raw and torn in her vagina and anus they used until all came. The last she heard was their laughter before falling unconscious again.
The next school day Jack found the trail of blood, leading to the bathroom when he started his shift. At first, when he saw the battered woman face down on the floor, he believed she was dead. However, after feeling for a pulse, Jack realized she was alive. Palming a bit of water to her cracked lips, he roused her. He wanted to call the police but hadn’t at her insistence.
“No!” Kandace wept while she clung to him with her clothing in tatters. Her face was bruised and bloodied by a number of cuts around her discolored mouth and eyes.
“Who did this to you?” Jack questioned appalled by her condition because no one deserved such treatment. “Was it a student? We need to report this!”
Kandace shook her head and pulled on her torn clothes as if they could cover her shame. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut. A few of her teeth had been broken or were missing. Her body had been battered, and dried blood streamed from a number of places on her body.
“No!” Kinky Kandy pleaded. “Please, just help me to my car.”
Jack did as she wished but was shocked further from the vandalism done. Spray paint covered the sporty red car spelling out “cunt,” “slut,” and “whore.”
Jack stood and watched her leave disturbed by what to do. He never imagined that moment would have been the last time he saw the vengeful soul alive. Mr. Stosick had been her main target.
Earlier in the morning, mist covered the road with little traffic in the school delay. Her headlights were not on. She knew Mr. Stosick’s schedule as it never changed, no matter the weather. She waited for her moment when he turned down the block to the school.
At the last minute, Kandace flicked on the headlamps. She viewed his scream as the teacher threw up his arms as if that would save him. Laughing, Kinky Kandy struck him head-on. The police said there was no way either could have survived. The collision killed them both instantly.
The truth of the brutal rape Kandace suffered filled the papers for days until the students started talking about how they had routine sex with her. She went from victim to monster in an instant. Many even said Kandace Lane got what she deserved. However, that was not the end. Jack wished that it had been.
Nine…ten…never screw again!
Grandpa Jack added more herb to his pipe and puffed smoke like a little chimney. His voice throughout the recounted story remained grim even as the dark receded for the coming fiery orange of another sunrise. “Each man who raped Kandace Lane died by mysterious means. One drowned in the school pool where her rape had taken place. His car had been spray-painted with the word ‘rapist.’ Another cast himself off the top of the school building. His last words as he leaped were that he was sorry. The last strung himself up by the neck on the school flag pole with a note stapled to his chest saying ‘forgive me.’”
Jesse listened with wide eyes in shock of the horrific tale. He rose his knees and wrapped his arms around them while curled into a protective ball. “So then it finally ended?”
“No.” Gravely Grandpa Jack shook his head. “In the dreams of their bloodline, Kandace’s vengeance thrived. They say her ghost stalked and preyed on the innocent just because the blood of her rapists flowed through them. Even in death, her lust to punish those men lives to this day.”
Jesse sat up with a gasp. “Does that mean…?”
Grandpa Jack shook all over. “Our town is small, boy. Many of us are related even if distantly.”
Jesse swallowed as he looked to the receding dark. He thought for an instant that he saw ghostly eyes light up the night before they disappeared.
“So beware the pretty face smiling in the night. It may be Kinky Kandy coming to end your life,” the old man warned.
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© Copyright 2020 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.
ns 18.68.41.175da2