A Mastermind in Detective High School

"I, the count, shall bring the world to its knees."

A fifth thrall in a gallery of the awakened souls─and a supervillain looking for minions can only be enticed. I know I've always fitted the uniform, and I'd take it upon myself to consider world domination rather than be a patriot. And in order to dominate, you must have people chained under your command─by hook or by crook.

"It would be nice to see the world burn," I sighed.

High in her octane, our homeroom teacher Ashley Navoa brought herself back to life. Already haggard in her disheveled suit, hair frizzed from our constant ballet of crime. I'd opt for a retreat if I were her. I wasn't supposed to drop clues, but the sugar threshold prompting the brain to think neared its burnout point.

And telekinesis is mental.

Deafening in its sonorous screech, the chair toppled down the tall tower of rotating books. She smirked even more sinister─and I'd only blame myself for having a stupidly weak defense. Miss Ash, seething in playfulness and rage, advanced out of her comfort zone.

Swaying with the wind, her forelocks twirled.

Quickfoot, enabled by adrenaline─she hammered onto this desk, doggone and brazen to accelerate herself. Even spinning in the air, a jump high a level, sooner erupting into this flamboyant karate kick.

She's gone physical.

Worse, she's going for the head.

"Nuh-uh," I uttered.

I caught her foot.

You've got your foot gripped by a hand, unflinching albeit the exertion of enough force to break bones. All the strength and calories expended for that strenuous move. Sorry, sister, I'm several seconds ahead.

"Tch!" Yet I know, she's stubborn enough not to throw the towel over being blocked once. She let herself fall down, back first over a wobbly bed of books. Nice, she has a backup plan─and the nimble

Once more.

I don't know when our fatigued homeroom teacher nurtured her circus act. Nothing about her maneuvers align with her history with softball. Her pitches are remarkable, but her acrobat addendum says something of her magnitude as a superhuman.

Her second kick missed by a hair's breadth, the impact reaching the floor.

Moan from the pain, my teacher! Bummer…She quickly got back up and fled. I was expecting a chain kick but, of course, she wasn't going to repeat the same mistake and feel the same pain. I wouldn't go around slamming my foot on the ground, either.

And I must have forgotten that insane maneuvers seen in video games couldn't be possible for her. Also, I have to tie myself in the same spectrum. Either way, I'm sorry I was anticipating more from the both of us.

Oopsies, no time for introspection.

As soon as she endured her pain, our sights meeting in impertinence rumbled to a more hostile call for skirmish. 

How beautifully unfortunate.

I looked towards her.

She kept her groove.

I'd attack and defend.

Miss Ash? You're in pain, failing time and time again, and yet breed relentless violence as once was believed by a dead poet. Carpe diem─and it's noble without a doubt. Not acknowledging her will to kill her lord must be a debauchery.

Yet, there's no other outcome in this daydream other than a failure.

"Seize," I adjured, stretching a hand to the air─and who once was the subjugator mirror the hanged man's arcana.

Sweating from mere seconds of motion.

As beautiful as she styles herself every morning, her mangled condition radiates the same spectacle if not twice. She must have forgotten that I chose to distance myself exactly because we're telekineticists. Must have been the difference between being paranoid, and only a powerful beast hungry for action.

"C'mon…Mika, you just can't spare a woman to live her delusions," she bantered, huffing a sigh as she struggled.

"You'll be free in less than a minute, I should've had cake instead of cinnamon coffee…And, oh, you were being delusional?" Goes into question, no matter how I try to overlook her statement. "Miss Ash, you look like you're about to make our farce a locked room murder mystery."

I got an eyeful.

Also, I lied: I do know she's being delusional, and she ain't cut out to make this book straight out of a Detective Conan chapter.

"And besides, we have no more time." I wish I had an energy bar to snack on. Looking at the door, I shoved my hand into my left pocket. "Oh, don't worry. This dejection isn't for you. Mere seconds from now, we're going to be discovered."

What we do not know however─or in my case, unsure of─would be the questionable masterplan about to be placed in the playing field.

And so, our beloved instructor and I looked each other in the eyes. Confused thoroughly and snapped out of her manic tension, she asked, "What do you mean…Farce?"

I smiled.

"Yes, this is a farce," I affirmed. "I'd see to it that paranoia is mankind's biggest foe. Yet, I wouldn't go around attacking a person out of nowhere."

Miss Ash, intently looking into my eyes, grinned wryly and scoffed, "I'd expect no less from the mastermind."

"Well, I do have that reputation…Say, you told Primrose everything, didn't you?" If this were a crime thriller fiction, I'd be pointing a gun towards her head.

"Repeating the same question," she groaned, eyes cast in indignation as it caused annoyance. Earlier, she exclaimed, "Huh?" I didn't dally around, and conducted our farcical orchestra of flying books and chairs.

"You broke our rule, and there's only four of us."

"Seems like you already heard three sides and decided I'm at fault Primrose has invaded our circle." Eyes unflinching, she asserted a tinge of loyalty unabashed by her fantasies where I'm detached from the living realm. "The first rule of Fight Club is…"

"Bzzt, you're wrong! I haven't heard from my sister."

"Ew, stay away from me, you siscon!"

"Gah! You do understand how grave it is to accuse someone, right?"

"Over being called a siscon?" Miss Ash scoffed, about to fume on a valid enough tension. "How about I turn the tables on you, damned accuser?!"

Imagine being serious only to be hit in nonchalance.

Anyhow, I couldn't get anything against her on Primrose's matter.

Yet again, on accusations within South High School, the detective branch of the Cardinal Institutions: we can get expelled.

"You know, I tried to subtly trip her physically but I flubbed a bit," I confessed. "It would've been easier if she accused me of tripping her, and I'd have her expelled peacefully."

Miss Ash tilted her head.

And as it seems, Primrose would have also liked the mundane outcome.

"That way, our connections would be cut loose earlier than expected. Oops, someone's coming," I said as I sensed. "How I wish it could be Primrose, but beggars can't be choosers."

Ears perked to the sound of rushing footsteps, a collection of chatters both from the adolescents and institutional adults. About time the faculty and the student council took action. You can't really ignore a blinded classroom being wrecked during lunchtime.

Loosening my hold over Miss Ash until she safely landed on her feet. Hit with concern, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"You're the victim here," I said, designating her role as I quickly moved about─a lock clicked at the back window, and a hardcover lifted from her desk behind. "And I need you to be unconscious."

Blunt force trauma─and the body of a heroine dropped down a bed of papers. Light crept to the room as the doors opened, a few seconds late from when the black curtain got nabbed. Orb of supernatural blackness escaping out the window, the curious case of Miss Ash has begun.