Mystery Character x Reader- Welcome to Class

Your friends in homeroom looked to you. You held your head in your hand. No, not that class. They thought.

"You have that class, don't you?" Your best friend asked, putting her hand on your shoulder. You slowly nodded your head up and down. Your friends gasped.

"Why don't you change it?" 

"Why don't you switch?"

"You can join me in music ed."

"Be an office assistant."

Your friends voices swarmed in your head. They knew you could change, but you can't. You need the elective credit, and that's what you told them.

"Good luck."

"I feel so sorry for you."

-----

Blue eyes scanned over the list of students...or should I say student.

"Only one person in my class?" He sighed. "That's a disappointment."

-----

You walked into the room to see you were the only one there. Just my luck. You sneered.

"You're the only student," the teacher said. "Everyone else got a class change."

"Great," you sighed.

Everyone knew the rumors about this teacher. He was no good. A cannibal, they said. Everyone knew that if you got the class you were basically in the same room as a killer. Everyone avoided him in the halls, the office, and even the teacher's lounge. Only the strongest students had a class with the home economics teacher, Oliver Kirkland.

You looked over at him. He was sort of creepy looking in childish sort of way. He looked like Candy Land threw up all over him with his purple sweater vest, pink button down top, khaki pants, black shoes, and a bowtie that matched his cotton candy blue eyes. He looked just like his cousin, Arthur, who taught English on the other side of the building. You shuddered as you noticed something was off about his sweet smile.

"It's a pleasure to have you in my class, poppet," he smiled. You faked a smile.

"Pleasure to be here." You weren't going to let him go all psycho on you.

"Well, poppet," he smiled, "today, we're making cupcakes."

Your eyes widened. Everyone in the school knew that you don't let Oliver Kirkland make cupcakes. The ingredients are always either student or some drug. Some say that sometimes the drug also makes you... different, and that's what happened to Alfred Jones and Matthew Williams.

Mr. Kirkland led you to the stove area and told you get out all of the ingredients. Then, he instructed you to get all the necessary bowls, tins, and utensils. Nothing seemed off at that point. He told you to mix all of the ingredients including vanilla extract. Then, when the batter  was done, you put a spoonful into each part of the tin.

-----

You smiled as you pulled the tin out of the oven. Over the thirty minutes, you had also made homemade icing. It smelled good, and it tasted better. What can you say? It was icing!

You decorated the cupcakes with the icing. Mr. Kirkland had even let you color it, so of course, it had to be your favorite color.

"Alright, poppet," Mr. Kirkland smiled as you finished up, "let's wash the dishes, and then we'll try one!"

"Alright," you smiled.

-----

The dishes and ingredients were now in their proper places, and the cupcakes were on a platter. 

"Alright, love, let's see how you did." He handed you a cupcake.

"Aren't you going to get one?" you asked.

"I will," he smiled, "but you're the baker. You get the first bite."

"Okay," you said, a bit wary. The rumors had been swirling around in your head, like the pink in Mr. Kirkland's eyes.

Wait.

Pink? His eyes were blue. Why was there pink swirling around in his eyes?

"Mr. Kirkland?"

"Yes, poppet?" His cheshire grin was starting to scare you.

"Did you put contacts in?"

"Oh, yes," he smiled. "I do it to scare Artie. It absolutely horrifies him."

"Do you always do this?"

"Yes, Artie and I like to pick on each other."

You looked down at your cupcake, suddenly scared to take a bite. Something was wrong. You could feel it. This was your class assignment for today. You had to calm down. After this, you got to go home.  You took a deep breath and bit into the fluffy cake.

"Wow," you grinned, "this is great!"

"Then go ahead and finish it. I'm going to put your grade into the grade book, and then I'll come back and try one."

You finished up the cake, but something didn't feel right. You were starting to feel drowsy and light headed. Your limbs felt weaker and weaker by the second, and your knees were ready to collapse under you. You were slowly fading in and out of consciousness. You felt a pair of arms hold you up, and pink and blue swirls flooded your sight. A deep, maniacal chuckle filled your eardrums.

"Poppet," a voice laden with a psychotic tone said, "you're coming home with me."

Then, it all went black.