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What a drag of a day. Clementine slumped down in his bed with a heavy, tired sigh and dragged his hand over his forehead. He hoped for a moment of silence, but it was stolen by the creaking groans of the building as the wind whistled outside.

          He lay in a pool of confliction. His next target had a name and a face, but he worried that killing him might be a mistake. What if he could get more out of Ian? What if he could get him to reveal other Ravenblood on campus?

          Clementine pondered, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he listened to the scampering of rats inside the walls. There had to be a roster—as far as he was aware, all schools kept a record of their students. But where would he find such a thing? Huxley's office, most likely. He was the head of this place.

          Huxley made Clementine feel...cold. There was something about that man—the way he glided across the floor as if he was floating sent a shiver down Clementine's spine, and his glaring eyes—his bellowing voice. The last thing he wanted was to get caught snooping around the office of someone like that. But he didn't really have many options, and he felt killing Ian and leaving everything else to chance wasn't the best choice. No, he should look for the roster.

          He sat up and glanced at his pocket watch—time for his third pill. He reached into his backpack and took out the fountain pen in which he kept some of his medication. Then, he pulled open his nightstand's drawer and took out his glasses case. First, he placed one of the small white pills into his mouth and swallowed it, and once he'd taken a few gulps of water, he proceeded to refill the fountain pen. He didn't want to run out while away from his room.

          Now it was time to head out into the halls.

          As he took off his shirt and pulled on a turtleneck, he hesitated. He knew how dangerous it was and suspected it would be even more so now that Carmichael had attacked someone. The other students might decide it was time to go for each other again, but Clementine couldn't let that slow him down. If need be, he'd summon a dagger and defend himself—and since he hadn't seen Sebastien since Molly either, he wasn't exactly worried about being grabbed and choked.

          He crept over to his door, eased it open and peeked outside, and when he saw Elliot's bedroom door was shut, he swiftly stepped out of his room, shut the door behind him and left the dorm.

          Where even was Huxley's office? Clementine frowned, looking up and down the hall as he realized he didn't really know where he was going. In the week he'd been here, though, he'd seen all the teachers heading up a set of stairs down in one of the larger halls, and he'd never seen any students go up there, so...maybe there was a good place to start.

          Quietly, he crept down the hall, heading towards the stairs. But with each step he took, that same minacious feeling returned—eyes...so many eyes watching his every move. And that sound...if Clementine didn't know it was the wind seething through the crooked tiles of the academy's roof, he'd think the walls around him were breathing.

          But he couldn't let the ominous quiet distract him. He had something to do.

          Swiftly, silently, and unseen, he navigated the academy corridors, making his way to the ground floor. But as he continued forward, the muffled sound of a struggle caught his attention. He knew he should probably ignore it, but...no, no buts. He was going to ignore it. Glaring ahead, he continued on his way—he did shoot a glance down the hall the sound was coming from, and when he saw a group of five girls kicking the living daylights out of a rather beefy boy, a fallen blade at his side as he cowered, Clementine couldn't help but smirk. It looked like those girls were teaching a bully a lesson.

          Until one of the girls spat green ooze at him, which burned and sizzled against his face while he screamed—

          With a revolted grimace, Clementine hurried past and darted into the closest corridor. The last thing he wanted was to be seen by a group of acid-spitting girls.

          He waited to see if he'd been caught, listening as the bully's screams distorted and eventually fell silent. He wasn't being followed.

          Continuing forward, he reached the large, open hall, where four different staircases sat, waiting to be climbed. That which sat between the two arched windows was where he was going.

          But as he reached the bottom of the concrete stairs, the sound of several pairs of shoes thumped from above. Shit.

          With a panicked stare, he frantically glanced around the hall. He set his eyes on a large black leather couch and darted over to it. As swiftly as he could, he threw himself over the couch, and now on his hands and knees, he watched from the small gap between the couch and the floor as seven pairs of balmoral shoes filed from the stairs and through the hall, heading the way he had come.

          Clementine knew that the academy had seven professors, so it must be them heading down the hall. Where were they all going?

          He waited...and waited...listening as the sound of their shoes eventually faded away, and when he was sure they were far away enough, he stood up and bolted for the stairs. He hurried up each steep step, and by time he reached the top, his legs felt as though they might drop off and tumble back down. He gripped his knees with his hands, leaning forward as he panted deeply—he hated stairs.

          As he slowly stood up straight, he set his eyes on the old oak door at the end of the narrow hallway, with a plaque above that read, 'Professors Lounge'. Lounge? He frowned as he headed towards it—was he even going to find what he'd come looking for in there? He hoped so.

          But as he lifted his hand towards the door...he heard it again—that sound. That roar. It screeched through the walls, where whispers began to seethe from. The corridor in which he stood dropped to freezing, so much that he could see his breath in front of him, and the walls around him...they seemed to shudder.

          Clementine wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, but the cold wasn't the only reason for that. Trepidation—an awful, crushing feeling of unrest ensnared him where he stood, and as the academy groaned in the wind, the instinct to run for his life overpowered him.

          He raced back the way he'd come, hurrying down the stairs, sprinting through the halls. The spiralling whispers followed him, that feeling of hundreds of eyes watching his every move made him sweat, and with each passing moment, he sunk deeper into his dread knowing that creature was stalking the halls again.

          His stamina was declining. He panted, his body ached, and he knew he'd have to stop any moment now—but if he did that, he was terrified that creature would find him.

          With a shake of his head, his breaths so frantic he felt he would pass out, he came to a stumbling halt in one of the large halls and dragged himself into the closest window booth. He leaned back against the brick wall, the moonlight shining in through the mucky window and onto his face. He tried his best to quieten his breaths, keeping his eyes fixed on what he could see of the door. And when the freezing cold began to yield, he sighed and shook his head.

          How could he have been so stupid? The last time he'd wandered around alone at night, that monster had almost made a meal of him. Why would tonight be any different? He scowled, holding his hand over his chest as his heart thumped hard. Did that creature stalk the halls every night? Was it something the teachers used to thin out the herd? Did the teachers even know about it? Was it a student? No...what he felt when he saw that thing...he felt pure evil...no student here gave him that vibe, not even Ian or Harrison.

          Maybe the teachers would discover it—after all, the seven of them had left their lounge together not too long after he'd seen that boy getting melted in the hall—

          Voices that weren't whispered snatched his attention.

          Clementine held his hand over his mouth, silencing himself as he listened to the approaching footsteps of what sounded like at least four boys and a girl. Their voices were indistinct, and as he tried to work out what they were saying...he recognised one of them.

          Ian.

          Something anxious pooled in his stomach. His desire to kill that boy and his fear he might be caught collided with one another, fighting for dominance over his mind as he stared, watching Ian lead a group of four other boys and two girls through the hall.

          He listened.

          "I told you, they haven't seen him," Ian uttered.

          Clementine frowned. They hadn't seen who? Who hadn't seen who? Wait...could they be talking about Harrison? Had Ian finally noticed his Ravenblood fellow was missing?

          "What if he disappeared—we all know how much of a coward he was," one of the girls said.

          "He wouldn't do that," Ian protested.

          "But—"

          "He wouldn't!" another boy interjected, cutting the girl off.

          As they headed down the south corridor, Clementine pondered...he knew he should probably get back to his room—that creature was on the loose again. But he shouldn't pass up this chance, right? Ian was talking about Harrison—he had to be, and the people with him seemed close to him...could they be Ravenblood? He had to know. Creature or not...he wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

          "Do you think someone got him?" the other girl asked Ian.

          Clementine scurried out of the window booth and over to the doorway.

          "I don't know," echoed Ian's voice.

          Frowning, Clementine slinked over to one of the ribs of the rib-vaulted hallway, covering behind it.

          "He would have told his parents what he was doing," a boy said confidently. "We all know how far up his father's ass he was."

          "Yeah," Ian agreed.

          Clementine sneaked over to the next pillar.

          "Something's happened, I'm sure of it," Ian then said, leading them into the left corridor.

          As quietly as he could, Clementine hurried after them and hid behind the doorway.

          "Do you think it was the same people that killed that Molly girl?" the first girl asked.

          "Maybe, but we need to all be on high alert as of right now. It could have been random, but we should also consider that it wasn't. We have enemies here—you all remember what our parents told us," Ian mumbled.

          "The coup?"

          "You really think they're making a move?"

          "My father thinks so, and they have kids here, so they could be coming after us."

          Listening, Clementine frowned strangely. Coup? What were they talking about? Was he talking about something happening over in the New World? He had to be—he remembered what Elliot and his friends had told him about Ian's gang being a part of the group that had come over from the New World to earn their permanent places. And he remembered...from the bathroom...those boys had talked about a council, and how an Alpha was being replaced—Gibbous Blood wolf walkers. Were they Ian's enemies? Ravenblood enemies?

          "Look," came Ian's voice.

          Clementine tensed up—had he been caught?

          Ian sighed, the sound of the group's footsteps silencing. They'd all stopped.

          "Just tell the others and watch your backs. I need to find out how many of them are here, and once we know, we can start working out what to do about them. And stay in trios at least. McKenzie, Lowell, you two are with me. The rest of you, go and tell everyone else about Harrison."

          Harrison.

          They knew.

          With a frown on his face, Clementine tried to stay calm. He knew they'd find out at some point, but he'd hoped it wouldn't be until much later. Now, his quest to kill the Ravenblood was going to become harder. The fact he had just become sure that the six people with Ian were also Ravenblood didn't excite him as much as it might have before, because now, they were always going to be travelling together. Would they eventually calm down? He didn't think so. They suspected someone was hunting them...but at least they didn't suspect him, right? He had learned they had enemies here, which he assumed must have also come over from the New World. No, to his relief, he was still something of a ghost. But he had to replan—he had to work out what he was going to do. He couldn't afford to wait around forever, not only because of his own declining time, but also because the semester wouldn't last forever. The killing would soon pick up once the students knew they were running out of time, and he had to be careful not to get caught alone again.

          He waited until the footsteps of Ian and his group faded away to come out of his hiding spot. Dragging his hand over his face, he began a slow walk back towards his dorm, his body aching from his prior desperate fleeing. The whispering walls began to silence, and that feeling he was being watched lifted. He wasn't sure why it had happened again—what that cold was, those voices—maybe this place was haunted. He wouldn't be surprised. Perhaps all the souls of every kid that had ever died here were trapped, and if he didn't wise up, he might join them.

          But what was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask for help. 'Hey, Elliot, fancy killing some Ravenblood with me?'. No. What a stupid thought. Elliot was a wimp. He'd pretty much cried when Carmichael and his friends had attacked those arachnoids. And even if Elliot wasn't a coward, he'd still not ask him. This was his mission—his hunt for revenge. He had to do it by himself—he had to do it for Anette.

          He wasn't going to let her death be for nothing.

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