Miller Killer I walked down the hallway and pushed the door open. I stepped into the room.

The lights were off but the lazy curtains allowed light from the outside to illuminate the room. The two large windows were up and a shrill breeze owed through to meet my forearms. My blue collar shirt was untucked. My white socks hid beneath my drooping khakis. I was committing an offense; a school dress code infraction. I scratched my rough unshaved cheeks with my right hand as I stood, looking for a place to hide. I heard footsteps coming from the hall. Unable to distinguish whether they belonged to a student or teacher, I quickly ducked behind a science bench. My eyes caught a glimpse of what lay on the cheaply painted wood. Two pieces of paper and a pen on top. Beside them, a bunsen burner. It was connected to the gas line which was turned off. I heard the footsteps stop. Then there were two louder steps. The person had entered the room. I heard quiet shufing noises. Whoever it was was scoping out the room. Three more steps. The loudest of them all. I could hear breathing. On all fours, I inched my way along the oor. I reached the end of the bench. There was silence. Then a small crack. My feet caught up to my body and I got into a squatting position. Slowly I turned my head around the end of the towering bench. My eyes peered out and saw Mr. Miller. He was leaning back on the bench and looking at the board. The bunsen burner was directly behind him. It looked as if all color was erased from his body. He was completely grey. I pulled my head back immediately. He wasnt doing anything. I could wait here all day, I thought. I stared straight at the wall in front of me and exhaled a long, quiet breath. Suddenly I felt something inside of me. I had to pee. My mind began to

race. What would I do to get out of this nightmare. The hairs on my forearms were standing. I felt a piercing pain in my temple. My left eye caught a dark gure in the corner of the classroom. I proceeded to crawl over to it. My knees were aching from balancing my entire body. It was a black nap sac. I rummaged through the bag. Nothing was in it except for a small spray bottle of axe. I lit up like a boy would should he receive a bee bee gun for christmas. I turned with a devilish smirk, smeared across my face. I was crawling back to my home base, behind the bench when my left knee gave. My right hand still clutching the can, instinctively went down to keep my balance. The bottom edge of the can hit the ground emitting a loud tick noise. I heard him get off the bench. My heart began to pound. I heard his footsteps approaching me. I scurried back behind the bench. He was still moving towards the corner where I had abandoned the bag. This was my moment. I swiftly sprung up from behind my hiding spot. With my left hand I grabbed the bunsen burner and with my right I pulled the knob a full 90 degrees. Mr. Miller turned around with a mean face and I became aware of his laser red eyes. As fast as I could, I reached out for the axe can with my free right hand and brought it behind the ame. That is when the slow motion came in. I pointed the orange ame from the bunsen burner and the spray can at the old mans face and let loose the axe. A huge cone of roaring re burst out towards the grey man. In a mix of intense heat and heavy deodorant smell, I saw the red eyes widen in astonishment before they were engulfed in orange ame. Mr. Miller was covered in re and was running around the room. I let go of the trigger and watched the now bright orange man sprint out the door. His steps got quieter and quieter down the hall until there was a thump. Then there was nothing. I turned off the gas, closed both windows and strolled out of the room turning

right instead of left where Mr. Miller had turned.