SrCuervo
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🕑 Added 2024-08-05 16:25:18 +0000 UTCHunter, Don't Shoot My Friend
Chapter 19: The Smell of a Wet Dog
The man was like a calm lake, cold and serene.
His gaze showed no intense emotion, making everyone aware that he was a man of strong character. Even after closing the door with slow movements, walking in those black shoes, and reaching the desk, no sound was heard.
That silence enveloped the entire classroom, causing a suffocating sensation that left everyone slightly nervous.
"What pressure..." Even the popular kids who didn't stop talking were involuntarily dragged into that silence and, for reasons they couldn't explain, kept their mouths shut.
The students, who had been silent, turned their eyes toward the man standing at the podium, their eyes shining with curiosity.
The suit, fitting his stature, presented no wrinkles. He also wore a striking brooch that stood out against his fitted black suit. elegant outfit, but not overly ornate.
When the man gently placed his belongings on the table, he momentarily remained still, and in his calm expression, he showed some displeasure.
All those who hadn't been able to see him clearly now appreciated the appearance of this new history teacher.
A sharp jawline, a straight nose, and a firm gaze. His eyes, strong yet charismatic, were so sharp that he could barely be seen as a young teacher for the age he appeared to have. His long hair, long for a man, was carefully tied around his nape.
"He didn't seem so terrifying," murmured Stiles, who had recognized this man before.
Scott felt uncomfortable; he didn't know why, but he smelled something that was bothering him a lot.
Some students who were secretly gossiping were overwhelmed by the pressure and swallowed their saliva unconsciously.
"It is a pleasure to meet all of you. My name is Ethan Winchester, and I am your new history teacher." The moment Ethan opened his mouth and made a sound, it was as if cold water had been poured over many who were still trying to act more appropriately for the situation.
"It's the first day of class, so I won't start teaching immediately." Ethan, who had entered this classroom, couldn't help but smell the unpleasant odor of a wet dog.
There was a werewolf in his class; it wouldn't be difficult to find him if he asked the right questions, but he knew that, as it wasn't the right time, he preferred to go slower.
It wasn't difficult to keep the conversation alive; it was enough to recite in advance the words that came to mind at the right moment.
This is a kind of play.
Ethan is the actor on stage, and the students are the audience. He only had to maintain the monologue naturally, in sync with the breathing, going with the flow, without losing focus, according to what he had just discovered.
"My class is special; I know everyone hates history, but if you give me a chance, I'll make you love the events of the past in a way you've never seen before."
Ethan paused and pointed out, "I like to teach history with movies approved by me, books with stories, the incredible ones our ancestors lived, and how history continues to repeat itself in our time in ways you've never seen before."
Taking a quick glance at the crowd, Ethan noticed Scott McCall looking out the window, acting a bit oddly.
Ethan walked to the window naturally and noticed that there was a girl there; it was normal to see a girl Scott's age, but not to act so absentmindedly.
"On your desks are your class schedules; it doesn't matter much to know about them, and you know how to deal with them."
As Ethan was very observant, no student looked at him strangely, despite maintaining that intense tone and gaze.
"There is no exam in my class; those who want to listen to my class can attend, and those who want to leave won't be penalized. However, the only condition is that you must attend my class for the first week."
Ethan, who was analyzing Scott, was sure that he might be that wet dog; it would be a bit strange, but not impossible. "Regarding the murder..."
Click!
At that moment, the door was suddenly opened, drawing everyone's attention in the classroom.
"Guys, this is a new student, Allison Argent; please make her feel at home."
Ethan, who was interrupted in this way, said, "In my home, we knock before interrupting the atmosphere in this room in such a manner; don't you share that mutual idea?"
The whole class was surprised to see how the new teacher was upset by this small detail, which seemed insignificant to others.
"My apologies; I should have knocked." The principal, who had personally received the new student, apologized and then left.
Ethan pointed to an empty seat and said, "An Argent, I know a family with that particular surname; welcome."
"Thank you..." The new student named Allison was scared for a moment, certainly thinking the confrontation earlier was her fault.
"As I just mentioned a moment ago, worry about school and leave the rest to the adults. I know it's shocking to hear about a murder, especially in a quiet town like this, but nothing will happen."
All the students were relieved that after this, there was time to review their schedules; they had had enough of this teacher, who seemed very strict.
