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American Horror: Grind Edition
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American Horror: Grind Edition
Donovan panted heavily as the knife-twisting pain in his chest slowly receded. He took the phone Vic offered. On the screen was a photo of Tyler with a girl.
In the photo, Tyler was grinning from ear to ear, his arm casually draped around the girl's shoulder.
The girl was indeed breathtakingly beautiful. Her seaweed-like curly hair shimmered with spectral blue light, and her skin was pale as the finest pearl. Her eyes, brimming with emotion, held an ethereal charm that seemed unburdened by the mortal world.
Most importantly, she looked only eighteen or nineteen, radiating youth.
"Deep Sea Siren," Vic explained casually from the side.
"This species has a long lifespan. One hundred and eighty is equivalent to eighteen or nineteen in human years—prime youth. Plus, she's Deep Sea nobility. Her family has mines—"
"Literally, mineral veins. She's not after us for anything; she purely took a liking to Tyler."
He paused, patting Donovan on the shoulder, and summarized teasingly:
"Uncle Donovan, you should be secretly celebrating. Tyler, that silly kid, hit the jackpot. He got a huge bargain!"
"I... I see..."
Donovan examined the photo repeatedly. His taut nerves finally relaxed completely, and he let out a long breath. A wry, almost laughing expression appeared on his face.
"That's good. That's good..."
The stone in his heart finally dropped.
As long as the kid was willing and safe, and the partner wasn't some... well, centenarian hag, the age gap didn't matter. They looked good together.
That brat. Didn't say a word, but he sure knows how to pick 'em! Eating well, aren't we?
This sudden wave of "reassurance" seemed to unlock the final shackle on his heart.
Since he didn't need to worry about Tyler, he could throw himself wholeheartedly, without distractions, into the matter that had been weighing on him, keeping him awake at night.
His gaze became sharp and determined again. Donovan handed the phone back to Vic and said gravely:
"Vic, thank you for telling me this. Knowing Tyler is okay puts my mind at ease."
He stood up, adjusting his slightly wrinkled suit jacket. Although he was no longer a sheriff, the aura of capability and decisiveness belonging to an old detective returned to him.
"Principal Weems, please reconsider what I said earlier. I have some... 'private matters' to attend to. I'll be going now."
He didn't specify what "private matters," but Vic could feel the heaviness of it.
Principal Weems also stood up, nodding elegantly. "Donovan, I will send some files over to you."
Donovan gave Larissa a grateful look, nodded at Vic, and said no more. He turned and strode out of the café, his back quickly disappearing around the street corner.
His stride carried a sense of reckless determination.
Vic watched Sheriff Galpin disappear out the door. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, curiosity began scratching at him like cat claws.
He turned to Principal Weems, who hadn't left yet, leaned in closer, and lowered his voice with a conspiring familiarity:
"So, Aunt Larissa, what were you guys talking about before? So mysterious. Even Donovan looked that anxious?"
Principal Weems paused just as she was about to pick up her coffee cup. She set it down and turned her face.
Those eyes, usually filled with wisdom and gentle smiles, narrowed slightly now, revealing an unquestionable authority unique to educators.
She looked Vic up and down, her tone flat but carrying the weight of a thousand pounds:
"Vic, isn't your curiosity a little too heavy? Children shouldn't pry into adult matters."
She stood up elegantly, picking up her handbag from the side. As if mentioning something trivial, she dropped a precision bomb:
"By the way, how is your summer homework coming along? When school starts, the teachers of every subject will be checking strictly. If it's not finished..."
She deliberately dragged out the end of the sentence, leaving a threat-filled blank space. Then, ignoring Vic's instantly petrified expression, she pushed open the glass door of the café.
Accompanied by the crisp chime of the copper bell, her figure merged elegantly into the sunlight outside.
"Sum... summer homework?"
Vic froze in place, his mouth slightly open like a fish thrown onto the shore.
He blinked blankly, as if hearing a foreign term from a distant, alien world.
He turned his head slowly—extremely slowly—and looked at his two girlfriends with dull eyes. His voice was filled with disbelief and despair bordering on a breakdown:
"What... is that thing?"
He recognized every word in that phrase, but strung together, the meaning became blurry and terrifying.
In his long, exciting summer memories—talisman battles, the Kraken, demon deals, Hotel Transylvania...
All sorts of bizarre images flashed by, but there was absolutely no space for the existence of something called "Summer Homework"!
"Practical reports, of course. And a few essays," Enid's crisp voice shattered Vic's last tiny hope that "homework might just be a myth."
Vic grabbed Enid's wrist like it was a lifeline, his eyes shining with the expectant light of "we're in this together":
"You guys... you definitely haven't written a single word either, just like me, right?"
"Wrote it already~"
Enid blinked her big blue eyes, her tone relaxed and slightly smug.
"Wednesday finished everything in the first week at the hotel. I pulled an all-nighter to finish mine before leaving for San Francisco to find you."
She added with a smile, as if it were a trivial matter.
"It's over... I'm ruined..."
Vic slumped into the booth instantly, as if his bones had been removed. He let out a wail.
He clutched his head, fingers digging into his messy black hair. He could already see his tragic future of being hunted down by teachers and made to stand in the hallway after school starts.
A few seconds later, he jerked his head up. His face switched to a pitiful expression, like a large dog soaked in rain. He shook his girlfriends' arms, whining and dragging out his voice:
"Darlings——save me——help me out——"
Squelch.
Just then, several black, viscous tentacles shot out from Vic's shoulder, rapidly forming Venom's signature massive head and ear-to-ear maw.
Using mimicked fingers, he made the universal gesture of rubbing his thumb and index finger together rapidly. His long scarlet tongue licked his fangs. The meaning was self-evident—
Help? That'll cost extra chocolate.
Vic slapped Venom's "hand gesture" away grumpily and glared at him:
"Dream on! Your chocolate reserve for this month is already double my quota! Eat any more and you'll turn into a chocolate-flavored slime!"
He re-aimed his firepower at his two girlfriends. His peach-blossom eyes switched modes instantly, becoming watery and misty. His eyelashes fluttered like little brushes, his voice soft enough to drip honey:
"Besides, I know my darlings are the best! You wouldn't just watch me get buried by homework, right~? Right, right~?"
He looked at Enid, then at Wednesday, his gaze switching back and forth like a big dog afraid of being abandoned.
In this moment, Vic had long since thrown that tiny bit of curiosity to the nine heavens.