My Tutor’s Seductive Secret / Chapter 3: A Chilling Discovery
My Tutor’s Seductive Secret

My Tutor’s Seductive Secret

Author: Bryan Jacobs III


Chapter 3: A Chilling Discovery

While waiting, I scrolled through TikTok, my stomach growling. I opened DoorDash, debating ribs or loaded fries to keep my spirits up. It’s not every day you’re stranded in someone else’s house during a thunderstorm.

After placing the order, a wave of college notifications hit my phone. I was about to swipe them away when one bold headline caught my eye:

[Recently, a student from our college went missing while out tutoring. The police are involved. All students going out for tutoring, work, or job applications, please be aware of your personal safety...]

My thumb froze over the screen. The police? That was a first. Wasn’t there a story last semester about someone getting mugged on Pine Street? Suddenly, it didn’t feel so far-fetched.

My stomach tightened. For campus to send out an alert, it had to be serious. I tried to shake it off, but the night felt heavier now—like the storm outside was starting to seep inside, too.

I tried to focus on Rachel’s humming drifting through the house, low and smoky, mixing with the storm. It was oddly intimate. For a second, I almost forgot about the warning.

I told myself I was being paranoid—no way something bad could happen in a place where the only crime was a neighbor’s dog digging up your tulips.

But as I slid into the cotton slippers she’d left for me, I noticed a rusty stain on the corner of the sheet.

My fingers hovered above the spot. The room felt suddenly colder, the hum of the rain outside swallowed by the pounding in my ears.

I rubbed the spot. Sticky, unmistakably blood. My brain tried to say ketchup or wine, but I knew better.

A chill crept up my spine. Instinct kicked in. I crouched down, heart thudding, and lifted the sheet, letting my phone’s flashlight pierce the dark under the bed.

Dust bunnies. A single slipper that didn’t match. The forgotten corner of an old comic book. I almost laughed at myself—until a glint of something shiny caught my eye, wedged between the bed frame and the wall.

I reached in, fingers brushing dust, and pulled out what looked like half a plastic ID card. My hand trembled as I held the half-card. Suddenly, every shadow in the room felt like it was watching me.

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