THE DESKS ARE BOLTED TO THE FLOOR.

Psst. Hey, kid. Ears ringing from the static? I caught what the old hag was muttering up ahead. You're in trouble.

She ain't looking to punish the whole class. She said she wants the precision of your pain. Her words, not mine. She's just waiting to watch you scurry through those chalk-dust hallways, trip up in the dark, and completely lose your mind when the rules of the world just... snap.

Sounds like Old Bag Scrawl has a special lesson cooked up just for you. Better keep your guard up... So, uh... you looking to hold? I got a fresh batch of candies. The good stuff. Pure red crystals, gummy as hell. Just slide the scrap over, keep it quiet, and maybe that sugar rush will help you survive the bell.

Don't be late..

Wrinkled Scrawl accepts a specific number of souls for this session. "I do not care for mass outreach. I care for the precision of your pain" - thats what she said. I want to see how you move through the hallways, how you falter in the dark, and how you react when the logic of the world fails you.

Remember...

Capacity: Strictly Limited (First-come, first-served).

Objective: Detailed feedback. I will be grading your every move.