After a certain teacher sawed Martha with chainsaw, it was as if the entire world had taken notice. Conversations revolved around her.

Martha emerged as the embodiment of middle-class perfection. But perfection is always questionable, isn't it? Her home lay in a forest clearing—a quaint scene reminiscent of a children's fairy tale. Yet, within those walls, the charm faded. Firearms adorned the walls, and rather than animal trophies, there were human heads. She made no effort to conceal this.

Now, as you sat at her table, staring at the meat pie she had so graciously prepared, the allure of her abode vanished.