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Clementine stared in horror. From the crack in the door, he watched the six huge, hound-like creatures tear into Ian's body. Their fur was as black as night, blue auras floating off them like smoke on water. Leathery, bat-like wings clung to their backs, and each of them was easily bigger than a horse...except one. The one he'd seen before—the one he'd seen clearer than the rest. That smaller hound stood beside the largest and only one of them that possessed a pair of crimson, deer-like antlers; it wasn't tearing into Ian's body as savagely as its packmates. It stood there, staring at the corpse, and when the horned beast snarled, it hesitated...but took a bite.

          He had no idea what these things were. At first glance, he might think wolf walker, but wolf walkers didn't have wings or horns. The potent stench of sulphur and wet fur grew thicker, and as it began burning the insides of Clementine's nose, he frowned in revolt.

          "Clementine," came Elliot's voice.

          Suddenly, one of the monsters raised its head and looked in his direction. It snarled quietly, and when the others stopped eating the corpse and also looked over at the door, Clementine was struck with dread.

          He backed away from the door, turned around, and hurried back up the hall to join his allies. "Let's go," he uttered, hastily leading them away.

          "What is it?" Mathew asked as they turned into another corridor.

          "Were they moving Ian?" Mavis asked.

          Clementine's heart was already racing; his legs were trembling, and he felt his headache returning. He needed to stop. "Yeah," he huffed, slowing down as they approached the stairs that led up to the dormitory floor.

          "What happened to him?" Elliot asked. "It kinda looked like what happened to the kids at the party."

          "I heard someone say he got a taste of his own poison," Mathew said.

          "Probably," Elliot uttered.

          Clementine did his best to keep his struggled breaths quiet, leading them upstairs. He gripped the handrail, pain pulsing up his legs each time he took a step, and when they reached the top, he exhaled deeply and leaned his back against the wall.

          "Clemytine?" Mavis asked in worry.

          "You okay?" Elliot asked.

          "Should I fetch a nurse?" Mathew offered.

          He shook his head, taking a few deep breaths. "I'm all right," he told them. "Just a little tired."

          The whispers began to fade, the place warmed up, and Clementine's racing heart settled a little.

          "Come on," Elliot said quietly, slowly taking hold of Clementine's wrist. "You should probably lie down."

          As Elliot escorted him away from the wall, he pulled his wrist from his grip and followed.

          "We'll stay with you two until it is time to head back to classes," Mathew said as they reached the dormitory door.

          "Sounds good," Elliot agreed, unlocking the door.

          The four of them headed into the room, and while Mathew and Mavis sat on the couch, Clementine made his way over to his bedroom. Right now, all he wanted was to lie down, rest, and try to forget the revolting sight of Ian's body being torn up by those six hound-like creatures.

          "Do you need anything?" Elliot asked him.

          "No, thanks." Then, he shut his door, wandered over to his bed, and carefully laid on his back.

          He had no idea what those creatures were, but at least now he knew where the students' bodies went. It seemed a little obscene, even for a school that encouraged its students to kill each other in order to graduate. Wouldn't they send the students' bodies home to their parents? The professors had to know—they'd ushered everyone out of that hall so fast that it was impossible to have been a coincidence.

          But Ian was dead. He'd done it. The death caps had worked, and now that two of his goons had also been sent home, that left ten Ravenblood to kill. Laurel, the tall, dark-haired boy wasn't Ravenblood—he didn't remember seeing anyone of his description in the files nor did he recognize his name, so he could assume he was just someone aligned with Ian. It was still a victory, though. The fewer allies the Ravenblood had, the easier it would be to take them out.

          What was next, though? He knew he should probably lay low for a few days, but he wasn't sure how long he had left, and he didn't want to waste a moment. The fact he was hurling up black bile wasn't good, though. He could have less than half of his previously estimated time left. However, he couldn't continue without Sebastien, wherever he was. He couldn't be dead, could he? No. He wasn't. He was probably just off somewhere doing whatever he did when he wasn't stalking Clementine. He had said he was going to find out what a dybbuk was, so perhaps he was still busy doing that.

          He sighed, lifting his hands as they started to sweat beneath his gloves. He couldn't walk around wearing them all the time—they were going to be very inconvenient, especially when he needed to write.

          With a deep exhale, he got up and headed into his bathroom. He pulled the cabinet hanging over his sink open and reached for the small medical box on the top shelf. Then, he opened it and took two of the three rolls of bandage from within. He took off his gloves and stared at his greyed fingers for a moment. He could barely feel them at all, and the longer he stared, the harder it became for him to ignore his despondency. He'd been expecting this to happen, but now that it actually was, he didn't feel as unphased as he thought he would before. Perhaps it was because it had happened much sooner than it was supposed to, or maybe it was because staring at it made him think of Anette.

          A sullen frown flickered across his face as he started wrapping his right hand with the bandages. His sister had always put on a brave face for him despite her decline, so he was going to do the same. There wasn't time to mope, nor was there any point in it. It would only drain him of what little energy he had.

          He then heard a knock at the dormitory door. He stopped wrapping his hand and listened as someone opened the door. Muffled voices echoed through the walls, and when he heard Elliot protesting, Clementine moved out of his bathroom and peeked out of his bedroom door.

          The moment he set his eyes on Sebastien, a flurry of different feelings raced through him. Relief, anger, annoyance, the desperate wish to slap his stupid face. But overall, he was relieved the kid hadn't died.

          "Hey babe," Sebastien called, ignoring Elliot's nagging voice as he looked over and waved at Clementine.

          He sighed, pulling his door open a little more. "Where were you?"

          "I asked him the same thing," Elliot uttered. "But he keeps saying—"

          "I was busy," Sebastien interjected, heading over to Clementine's door.

          "Right," Clementine mumbled, letting him pass him and head into his room.

          "Are you okay?" Mathew called.

          Clementine nodded. Then, he went back into his room and shut the door behind him.

          "So, Ian's dead," Sebastien immediately began.

          "I saw," Clementine grumbled, moving past him to get to his bed, which he then sat on. "Where were you—really?"

          "Getting this," he said, taking a small pocket-sized book from his pocket. He held it out to him.

          Clementine stared at it. "A beginner's guide to ghouls, ghosts, faeries and sinister spirits," he read.

          Sebastien opened it to a page he'd marked with a small piece of string and moved the book closer to Clementine.

          Taking it from him, he stared at the pages he'd revealed. "The dybbuk. A relatively peaceful spirit which possesses a person for a short while. This spirit is often an anguished soul with unfinished business. In most cases, these spirits are the souls of wrongfully murdered people with ethos. A combination of fear and desperation to cling to one's life creates a reluctant force within them, thus grounding their passing soul to this world, and transforming them into a spirit. It will attach itself to a host and won't depart until it has achieved its goal, which is often of mutual benefit to both the spirit and the host." Confused, he looked up at Sebastien. "So you're telling me Elliot is some sort of ghost that hasn't gone to the afterlife yet?" he asked—he wasn't convinced.

          "Well...yes and no," Sebastien answered, sitting beside him. He pointed to one of the paragraphs Clementine hadn't yet read. "It says they can't pass on until they've completed a goal that benefits both themselves and who they possess, which means this spirit is usually close to the host. That would explain why there's two names on his file."

          "Elliot-slash-Ellis Davis."

          "Yeah. Do you know if he has any siblings?"

          "Uh...he never said anything about siblings, but he did talk about his mother and dickhead dad."

          "Hmm...."

          Clementine looked back down at the book. He wasn't sure what to make of this. "So, wait...Elliot's dead?"

          "That's what the book says. He's a spirit with unfinished business clinging onto whoever's body that is. Maybe he had a brother or something." He took the book from Clementine and pointed to a paragraph. "It also says the dybbuk often loses any memory of possessing a host—some even forget that they died altogether. We can't tell him, either," he said before Clementine could suggest they do just that. "They gotta work it out for themselves otherwise they won't be able to break the bond."

          "How's he supposed to finish his unfinished business if he doesn't know he's got unfinished business?" Clementine questioned.

          "Maybe something is supposed to trigger his memory," he said with a shrug.

          "Maybe," he mumbled, still staring down at the book, re-reading the five paragraphs between both pages.

          What sort of unfinished business would someone like Elliot have? Had he been wrongfully murdered? Who would...? Clementine frowned in realization—

          "What?" Sebastien asked, staring at him.

          "Elliot said his drunk dad killed his mom. What if—"

          "He killed Elliot, too," he said, finishing Clementine's sentence. "He killed Elliot, and Elliot attached himself to someone. It makes sense. But who?"

          "I don't know. The file said Elliot an Ellis Davis, so maybe he did have a brother or a cousin or something like that."

          "And is his dad still alive?"

          "Probably."

          "So what if his unfinished business is to kill his dad for what he did to them both, thus saving this Ellis Davis from the same fate?"

          Clementine stared at Sebastien's intrigued face. He was loving this, wasn't he? Of course he was. This was what he did—he investigated people and found things out.

          He nodded slowly. "But then that doesn't make sense. Elliot said his aunt took him in after his dad kicked him out. His mother had been sending his aunt the money she'd been setting aside for him to use to get into this place."

          "Maybe he just thinks that's what happened. Trauma does funny things to the brain, Clem."

          With a quiet sigh, Clementine shook his head. "If he really is this ghost spirit thing, is he dangerous?"

          "To you? No. But to his dad? Yeah."

          "What happens if he doesn't complete his unfinished business?"

          Sebastien looked down at the book. "They both die."

          "What?"

          "Says so right here. If the dybbuk doesn't accomplish its goals within a year of possessing the host, they will both succumb to the magick and wither."

          Clementine knew too well how stressing it was to get one's tasks done before their mortality clock ran out; the only difference was that he knew it was happening to him. Elliot didn't—unless he did and was keeping quiet about it. If that were the case, though, why would he be here wasting his time and not down in Ripperton murdering his father?

          "So, now we know," Sebastien said, closing the book, which he then stuffed back into his pocket. "He's not a threat to you."

          That was a relief, but his scepticism had now been replaced by guilt and concern. If Elliot didn't work out what had happened to him, both he and the kid he'd possessed would die. He had already admitted to himself that he didn't want his allies to suffer. He wanted each of them to get to the new world—they deserved it. But Elliot wouldn't get to go either way, would he? If he didn't work out he was a dybbuk, he'd die. If he did, he'd still not get to go to the New World. But would that be so bad? If he worked it out, he could avenge himself and his mother. Clementine couldn't tell him though, could he?

          "Is there anything we can do?" he asked, looking at Sebastien.

          "I couldn't find anything. Why? I thought you were just here to kill the Ravenblood."

          "I am, but...I don't know. I don't want him or Mathew or Mavis to suffer. They've been nothing but good to me." He sighed and fell back, resting his back on his bed. He wanted to help Elliot, but he didn't know if he'd have time or if there was even anything he could do.

          "You don't...wanna help this guy, do you?"

          He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

          "We don't have time—"

          "I know, but...no one else is gonna help him. We should probably lay low for a few days now and I still need to rest. Maybe we can work out how to help him realize."

          Sebastien sighed, shaking his head.

          "You don't have to help me," he grumbled. "He's stuck with me since the start so the least I can do is try to help him before it's too late."

          The white-haired kid stared at him for a moment. But then, he sighed and looked over at the door. "All right. We'll see what we can come up with."

          "First, though, I wanna work out who we're going after next."

          Sebastien's almost vacant stare evolved into an excited smirk. "Well, Ian's dead and two of his friends have gone, too. Only Harper was Ravenblood—"

          "Yeah, I worked that out already."

          "We should go after some of the cronies, first. Lucinda will be weaker without them. I'd suggest some more of your plants, but after the ball and Ian's death just now, everyone is gonna be super wary about what they're eating and drinking."

          "That's true. The Ravenblood are probably all gonna be sticking even closer together now too since their subaltern is gone, right?"

          Sebastien nodded.

          "So we'd need to work out how to get a few of them away from the rest. Do you think they'll still be coming after us all now that Ian's dead?"

          "They probably suspect you guys have something to do with it, to be honest. Unless Ian didn't tell them all about you. I guess we'll have to see. But if we can lead some of them away, we'll make easy work of them."

          Nodding, Clementine dragged his hand over his face.

          "Your little mushrooms made him puke all over that trial room," Sebastien said, smirking.

          Clementine turned his head a little to look up at him. "Was it you?"

          "Was what me?"

          "The anonymous tipper."

          His smirk intensified. "Maybe. Maybe not."

          Of course it was. He sighed, staring up at the murals. The sight of Ian's body being devoured by those monsters replayed in the back of his mind, and he wondered, did Sebastien know about those things? He obviously roamed around the academy a lot, and if he had been following Clementine as much as he'd suggested, then surely he must have seen one of those things.

          He looked up at him again. "Do you know what those monsters are that come out at night? Well, I thought it was just at night, but I saw them again earlier after the trial concluded."

          Sebastien's face went blank again. "Monsters?"

          "Yeah. They kinda look like big dogs but with bat wings. I saw one with horns, too."

          The kid shrugged and looked away. "No idea. Probably some sort of lycan."

          "That's what I thought, but there was this sulphur smell and Elliot said demons smell like that. Maybe they're some sort of like...demon hound?"

          "It's possible."

          "I think the professors know about them. Every time someone dies, they seem to come out, and the other night when I was in the conservatory, I came back to where some dead kids were after the creatures had been through there and the bodies were gone. I saw them eating Ian, too."

          "Well, the bodies have gotta go somewhere, right?" he mumbled. "They sound like some sort of clean-up crew or whatever."

          Sebastien was being awfully quiet for once. Was he pondering? Plotting? Or was that deep-in-thought look on his face there because he was cautious?

          "What's wrong?" he asked him.

          The white-haired kid looked down at him. "Nothing. You should probably rest up some more. We can look over the files again tomorrow and work out who we're gonna take out next. I gotta get back now in time for class, but remember," he said as he stood up, "don't tell your little spirit friend what he is."

          Remaining where he was, Clementine nodded. "All right."

          As Sebastien left, Clementine gazed up at the mural-covered ceiling again. He was going to help Elliot...but how? He wasn't sure how he'd get someone to remember dying. What if he got Elliot to tell him more about that night? Would that make him remember how things had actually happened?

          He sighed and shuffled over to his pillow, which he then rested his head on.

          "All students, please proceed to your next class. All students, please proceed to your next class," the gramophones blurted.

          A knock came at his door. He looked over there and watched as Elliot poked his head in.

          "Hey, are you coming to class?"

          Was he? "No," he said. "I need a little more rest."

          "Okay," he said with a nod. "What did Sebastien want?"

          "He was just checking in. You better go; you don't wanna be late."

          Elliot nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later."

          "Bye Clemytine!" came Mavis' voice.

          "Bye," Mathew's followed.

          "Yeah, see you guys later," he called back.

        Then, Elliot pulled his door shut, leaving Clementine to both his thoughts and his warm, comforting bed.

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