Abbie's Yanderes

The morning air felt like a cold sheet of parchment pressing against Abbie’s skin. Every step he took toward the towering, monochrome gates of the school felt like a heavy ink blot staining his confidence. He adjusted the straps of his backpack, his fingers trembling. His grades in Miss Circle’s class were abysmal, and the looming threat of her oversized compass was enough to make anyone’s stomach churn.

"Just get through the doors," Abbie whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the rustle of the trees. "Find Lana. Stay behind Lana. She’ll keep you safe."

Lana was the only bright spot in this two-dimensional nightmare. She was kind, quirky, and didn't seem to mind that he could barely solve for X if his life depended on it—which, in this school, it literally did.

As he crossed the threshold of the main entrance, Abbie prepared for the usual. He expected Oliver to trip him, Zip to throw a paper airplane at the back of his head, or Edward to mock his stutter. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on his scuffed shoes, waiting for the first insult to fly.

But the hallway was silent.

It wasn't the empty silence of an early morning, but a heavy, expectant quiet. Abbie looked up tentatively, and his breath hitched in his throat.

Students were lined up along the lockers. Usually, they were a chaotic mess of shouting and sprinting, but now they stood still. Every single pair of eyes—drawn in various styles of ink and graphite—was fixed directly on him.

It wasn't the look of predators watching prey. It was something far more unnerving.

"Morning, Abbie," a voice purred.

Abbie jumped, nearly dropping his books. He turned to see Zip leaning against a locker. Instead of her usual mischievous smirk or a handful of spitballs, she was twirling a strand of hair around her finger, her eyes wide and shimmering with a strange, intense light.

"Oh, uh, hi Zip," Abbie stammered, backing away.

"You look particularly sharp today," she added, blowing him a small, deliberate wink.

Abbie didn't wait to respond. He scrambled down the hall, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. He looked to his left and saw Edward, who usually spent his time building contraptions to humiliate others. The tall boy was simply watching him pass, a soft, dreamy smile plastered on his face.

"Have a wonderful day, Abbie," Edward called out, his tone dripping with an affection that made Abbie’s skin crawl.

He rounded the corner, hoping to find sanctuary in the cafeteria or the library, but the atmosphere only grew more suffocating. He saw the trio of terror—the teachers.

Miss Bloomie and Miss Thavel were standing near the faculty lounge. Normally, their presence sent students scattering in fear of a sudden pop quiz or a sharp reprimand. Today, they were whispering to each other, their eyes tracking Abbie’s every movement.

Miss Thavel tilted her head, a faint blush appearing on her paper cheeks. She gave him a small, encouraging wave.

"Don't be late for class, dear," Miss Bloomie said, her voice unusually melodic. "We’ve all been waiting for you."

Abbie felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He picked up his pace, his sneakers squeaking loudly on the polished floor. He could hear the sound of footsteps behind him—not one or two, but dozens. The students were following him. They weren't rushing him; they were simply walking at his pace, keeping a respectful but terrifying distance, like a royal procession for a king they intended to keep in a cage.

He finally reached the mathematics classroom. He burst through the door, desperate for the familiar terror of Miss Circle’s lessons over this bizarre, adoring silence.

Miss Circle was standing at the chalkboard, her massive compass tucked under one arm. When the door slammed open, she spun around. Abbie froze, expecting the sharp end of her weapon to be leveled at his throat for his tardiness.

Instead, her jagged, toothy grin softened into something almost maternal.

"Abbie," she breathed, the word sounding like a prayer. "You’ve arrived. I was beginning to worry you’d skipped my lesson."

"I... I'm sorry, Miss Circle," Abbie gasped, clutching his chest. "I'll sit down. I'll do the work. Please don't hurt me."

Miss Circle let out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated in the small room. She walked toward him, her towering frame casting a long shadow over his desk. Abbie shrank into his seat, squeezing his eyes shut. He waited for the strike, for the scream, for the demand to solve a complex equation.

He felt a cold, sharp sensation against his chin. He opened one eye. Miss Circle was using the blunt end of her compass to gently tilt his head up so he had to look at her.

"Why would I hurt my favorite student?" she asked softly. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated until they were nearly solid black circles. "You’re so precious, Abbie. So fragile. Like the finest vellum."

"I... I failed the last test," Abbie reminded her, his voice cracking.

"Grades are just marks on a page," she whispered, leaning closer until he could smell the faint scent of old ink and sharp metal. "You are the masterpiece."

A soft thud at the door drew his attention. The rest of the class had filed in, but they weren't going to their desks. They stood in the aisles, watching the interaction with rapt attention.

"Hey, Abbie."

Abbie turned his head. Lana was there. She was standing by her usual desk, but her eyes had that same glazed, obsessive sheen. She wasn't wearing her usual playful expression. She looked... hungry.

"Lana!" Abbie cried out, hope surging through him. "Lana, something is wrong. Everyone is acting so weird. We have to get out of here!"

Lana walked toward him, her movements fluid and slow. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she brushed a stray hair away from his forehead.

"Nothing is wrong, Abbie," she said, her voice a hauntingly sweet monotone. "We just finally realized how much we need you. How much we love you."

"But you... you liked me normally before," Abbie whimpered.

"Before, I was selfish," Lana replied, her fingers lingering on his cheek. "I wanted you all to myself. But now, we all understand. You’re the center of our world. Isn't that right, class?"

A chorus of "Yes" and "Always" echoed through the room, dozens of voices speaking in terrifying unison.

Abbie pushed back his chair, the metal legs screeching against the floor. He tried to run for the door, but Oliver and Zip were already there, blocking the exit with wide, welcoming arms.

"Where are you going, pal?" Oliver asked, his voice lacking its usual bite. "The fun is just starting. We have so many things planned for you."

"Let me go!" Abbie screamed, his voice breaking.

He turned back to Miss Circle, hoping for some shred of the strict teacher he used to fear. At least her anger was predictable. This adoration was a suffocating blanket.

"Miss Circle, please! Tell them to get away from me!"

Miss Circle stepped between him and the rest of the class, but she didn't move to protect him. She moved to claim him. She placed her large, claw-like hand on his shoulder, pinning him to the spot.

"They won't hurt you, Abbie," she promised, her voice dropping to a low, possessive growl. "But you aren't leaving. Not today. Not ever. We’ve decided that you’re much too special to be left to your own devices. You might get hurt out there in the real world."

"I'm fine! I'm just a student!" Abbie sobbed.

"You're our heart," Miss Thavel said from the doorway, peering over the heads of the students. "And a body can't function without its heart, can it?"

The students began to close in, the circle tightening. Abbie looked from face to face—Lana, Zip, Oliver, Edward—all of them looking at him with a terrifying, religious devotion. They weren't bullying him anymore. They were worshipping him, and in their worship, they were stripping away his freedom.

Lana leaned in close, her nose almost touching his.

"Don't be scared, Abbie," she whispered. "We're going to take such good care of you. We'll do your homework. We'll bring you snacks. We'll never let you be alone again."

"I want to be alone!" Abbie shrieked, tears streaming down his face.

The room went silent for a heartbeat. Miss Circle’s grip on his shoulder tightened just enough to be painful.

"Now, now," she scolded gently, though her eyes flashed with a dangerous spark. "That’s quite enough of that. Ungrateful behavior doesn't suit you."

She looked up at the class.

"Clear the desks," Miss Circle commanded. "Abbie needs a comfortable place to sit while we decide on his new schedule."

With frightening efficiency, the students began shoved the heavy wooden desks against the walls, creating a wide, open space in the center of the room. They worked in total silence, their eyes never leaving Abbie for more than a second.

Zip and Oliver approached him, each taking one of his arms. Their grip was firm, impossible to break.

"Come on, Abbie," Zip giggled. "Let's get you settled."

They led him to the center of the room, where a single chair had been placed. It looked like a throne made of scrap wood and paper. They forced him down into it, and Lana immediately knelt at his feet, resting her head on his knee.

"There," Lana sighed contentedly. "Perfect."

Abbie looked around the room. The windows were being shuttered by Edward. The doors were being locked by Miss Bloomie. The only light in the room came from the flickering overhead fluorescents, casting long, distorted shadows against the paper-white walls.

He was trapped. He was the most popular boy in school, and it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Miss Circle stood behind his chair, her shadow looming over him like a dark shroud. She leaned down, her sharp teeth inches from his ear.

"Do you know what happens to a drawing that someone loves too much, Abbie?" she whispered.

Abbie shook his head, his body trembling with violent sobs.

"They keep it in a dark room," she murmured. "They touch it until the edges fray. They look at it until the ink begins to fade. They love it until there's nothing left but a memory of what it used to be."

She straightened up, addressing the room.

"Let the first lesson begin," she announced.

"What lesson?" Abbie gasped, looking up at her in horror.

Miss Circle smiled, and for the first time, Abbie realized that the adoration in her eyes was far more lethal than her compass had ever been.

"The lesson of belonging," she said. "You belong to us now, Abbie. And we are very, very protective of our things."

Lana looked up from his knee, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"I love you, Abbie," she said.

"I love you, Abbie," the class repeated in a deafening, rhythmic chant.

Abbie buried his face in his hands, the sound of their devotion ringing in his ears like a funeral knell. Outside, the sun was shining and the birds were singing, but inside the paper walls of the school, the world had narrowed down to a single, terrifying point.

He was their treasure. He was their idol. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he would never be allowed to leave the page again.