I sat in the lush high back chair opposite the interviewer; hear her rustling the stack of paper, sifting through folders to find mine. The soft crinkle of old parchment as she flips through my file. The scent of stale air strikes my nose as the morning light assaults me, eyes weary from long travel. The rap tap tap of raindrops pelting the stained glass windows of her office.

Her voice sounds grating this early in the day, or late at night, depending on who you asked, I, having driven all night to get here. "So, St…van, Stevan, can I call you that?" she asks quirking her head as she read the small print on the application form. I nod in assent, having grown used to it, no one's gotten my name right anyhow.

"Normally I would be more formal, it's just your surname is, well it's an unfortunately awkward name." she grumbles before clearing her throat, I nod for different reasons than her most likely. "However, getting on with this interview. What makes you want to work as the new gym teacher for my school?"

I pause a second, collecting my thoughts. "I have always held physical fitness as a necessity in my life, a healthy body allows for a healthy mind." I give some cockamamy spiel about holding fitness as some desirable goal in life. The truth of it is much more painful, but how do you go about saying the only reason you have muscle packed on muscle is because it was the only way to survive, that you were never raised like the other kids, never given the option to be fat and lazy. "I find that when people are able to be more active in their formative years they keep those habits later in life."

Which I knew was a lie, I've seen the best turn into fat drunken slobs, doesn't make their fists hurt any less though, the greatest never really lose their touch. Chuckling at the dark humor of the joke, I digress, continuing my prepared speech. "I am sure that the students here at your school would benefit from having someone as dedicated to exercise as I am." I quirk my award-winning smile, if they gave awards for bullshit I mean, but I am barely out of high school, and need the work.

"Weeeellll…" she really took her time drawing that one word out. "It shows that you graduated early?" flipping to my educational experience, since my work history was non-existent.

"Yeah." I flustered, "I was tired being held back so much, I figured it best to just move on and go out into the real world and take up my true passion, teaching." I gave her some more lies as it would harder to explain that after a massive fight that ended in both my parents arrested and me in the hospital from numerous cuts, bruises, burns, broken bones and four gunshot wounds, and that's just the most recent fight, that I was just trying to get out of the city as fast as possible that I couldn't wait until I was eighteen, so I instead took the G.E.D. and before the ink dried I had gotten in my dad's, mine now I guess since he's in lock up, car and got the hell out before child services could try to slam me in with some foster family who would just pity the abused kid while they wait for me to come into my inheritance and pilfer as much of it as they can before kicking my worthless ass to the curb.

"Normally I would want someone with more experience or who was at least eighteen," the woman sighed, her pink dress hefting her sizable bosom as it dropped again in defeat, "But…" she dragged on, "I haven't been able to fill the position permanently in over 5 years after our last, actual, gym teacher left, so I don't have too many options anymore, the last few applicants who applied never lasted the week before they ran away."

That explanation really caught me off guard, but then again it would be good fortune that no one else wanted the job. "So that means?"

"You have the job," she relented. "Welcome to Ms. Grimwood's Finishing School for Ghouls."

Author's Notes: I swear I'm only slightly ADD now, I'm not trying to abandon my other stories but after giant chapters that I upload, I need to take a break and either play video games or write something else. If I write something else it keeps the skill fresh and I can get back into the flow easier.

Now this story is going to have quite a lot of swearing a bit more realistic violence than in my other stories because those have super powers and magic.

So first off my creative process for this was as follows

Sense of Humor: "Hey wouldn't this be funny"

Creativity: "Ok there's actually something there, send it to motivation."

Motivation: "Yes I can do something, but I'm still working on the other stuff."

Sense of Humor: "Fine I'll throw it down stairs and see what the other boss thinks."

Motivation: "What, no wait don't"

Boner: "WAIFUUUUUUS"

Motivation: "Great now you woke him up"

Sense of Humor: "He's already written the first five chapters."

Creativity: "That's impossible, it's probably all smut anyway. Wait this is actually good."

Sense of Humor: "Want me to tell him to keep going?"

Motivation: "God no, then he'll keep thinking with that head for the rest of his life if he knows it can actually work. Just, let me handle the rest."

And thus explains how I function on a normal day.

So even though I'm dropping the first five chapters now, I really want to know what you guys think about each one, so make sure you leave Brutal Reviews.