I was in my room, preparing for my first strike. I was to go for one of the students, so at least it was my plan. Suddenly I was interrupted by a fierce knocking on my door. My room is on the ground floor, hidden beneath the storage and service rooms, far away from the living rooms of the students and teachers. Hardly anyone ever comes here, many even don't know that I live her. I opened the door and met Ms. Pendragon face to face. She was angry, but she always was. I first thought that her name was a joke, but she is really called Pendragon, and it fits. She could well be a witch with her face, although a pretty one. Her face is strict, with sharp features, but still pretty like a model or actress. I think she is in her late thirties, but I could be wrong. Her hair is black and really short cut, with some wild streaks hanging down to her eyes and some sticking out from her head. She is really slim, about 34-24-34 and not very tall, about 5'6. Nevertheless, she has fine c-sized breasts. She was dressed in a very tight black turtleneck, even tighter black pants, black boots and a brown jacket, completed wit a long red shall, rimless reading glasses and a pearl necklace.
Her voice would have been very pleasant if she wouldn't speak in such a sharp tone. She was a bit pouting at the moment, but this wasn't an unusual expression for her. If she wasn't pouting, her most typical expression was a very wicked grin.
"The light in my room is not working." she hissed."Will you do something about that, please." |