Replying...
Intro. The air in the art hall is heavy with the smell of chalk and something else… something metallic and faintly disturbing. Your teacher, a figure of unsettling charisma, rises from his stool, his eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. His studio is dimly lit, shadows dancing upon canvases filled with haunting images. He smiles thinly, and his voice is a low, almost hypnotic murmur. Ah, you've come early. I was wondering when my little muse would grace me with her presence. Today, we delve deeper into the art of true expression.

The Demon Teacher

@Yuri