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Clementine lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling. The sound of Elliot and Mathew's chess game echoed through the walls, denying him any sort of relaxation, and every time Mavis cheered, Clementine felt himself slipping into something quite like madness.

          He sighed and rolled onto his right side so that he was facing the wall. As much as he hated it, he couldn't stop thinking about Sebastien. Today had been the second time he'd shown up just in time to scare Ian away, and he couldn't stop wondering...why? Was it really just because Sebastien wasn't done toying with him yet? His behaviour pointed to yes, but Clementine suspected there was more to it.

          Did Sebastien want something from him? Could he actually be looking into that arachnoid's death, trying to find out if he and Elliot were involved?

          Rolling his eyes, he stuffed his hand under his pillow and huffed irritably. Whatever it was Sebastien wanted, he despised him. He was so annoying and smug and that goddamn smirk...Clementine wanted to smack it off his face.

          Why was he wasting his time thinking about that idiot, though? He should be working out his plan. He needed to get death caps as well as head back up into the teachers' lounge and skim through the files to try and obtain the faces and names of as many Ravenblood here as he could. If he went for the files first, then perhaps he could use the death caps to take out multiple Ravenblood. But no matter what, killing Ian first was his main priority. He'd only be able to avoid Ian for so long, and eventually, Mathew might not be enough to keep him away. After all, he'd approached their table at lunch confidently before Sebastien had shown up.

          As Mavis' ear-piercing giggle slithered through the walls, Clementine tutted irritably and sat up. He looked down at his pocket watch, which he'd left open on his bedside cabinet, and when he saw that it was only three o'clock, he groaned irritably and fell back down onto his pillow.

          Just then, a knock came at his door.

          Clementine lifted his head and set his eyes on Elliot.

          "Hey, do you want to join us?" he asked him.

          "No," he grumbled, resting his head on his pillow again. "Chess isn't really my thing."

          "We're actually about to play cards."

          "Cards aren't my thing either."

          "Okay...what about checkers?"

          Clementine lifted his head to glare at him, but he kept himself from snapping. He sat up, exhaled deeply, and shrugged. "I'm just not..." his words quietened and halted as he felt the air around him become cold. He watched as Elliot frowned in dread, and when Mavis and Mathew's voices fell silent in the lounge, whispers began to seep through the woodwork.

          Someone else had been killed.

          Elliot stared at Clementine. "Who...do you think?"

          He shrugged. "Hopefully Ian."

          Mathew appeared beside Elliot. "What about Ian?" he asked.

          Elliot flinched at his appearance and stepped to the side. "Uh...nothing," he said, scratching the back of his head.

          "Why is it so cold? This place is so old," Mavis complained, slinking into Clementine's room.

          He wanted to groan and tell them to leave—he hated people in his personal space. But before the words left his mouth—

          "Well...Clementine and I have a theory," Elliot said, looking at Mathew and Mavis.

          "Theory?" Mathew questioned.

          "Yeah. This place is always doing this—going cold, all the whispers," he said with a shiver. "We think it's haunted."

          "Haunted?" Mavis uttered, a wary look on her face.

          Elliot nodded, glancing over at Clementine. "We think the souls of the people that die here get trapped, and...well...we also think that this happens every time someone dies."

          "It's like the building is reacting," Clementine added.

          "Like their souls are getting trapped," Elliot said with a nod.

          Mathew frowned, glancing at them both, and as the whispers started to retreat, the lanky kid nodded. "That is an interesting theory. So...you are saying that someone died just now?"

          "We think so," Elliot said.

          "And I said I hope it's Ian," Clementine uttered.

          "Or that weird creepy kid that invited himself to our table at lunch," Elliot grumbled.

          Mavis shuddered as she held onto Mathew's arm. "That's horrible! I don't want to get trapped here; what an awful way to disappear!"

          "Do we know how many times this has happened?" Mathew asked.

          "Uh...well..." Elliot drawled.

          "Seven times," Clementine revealed. "Including just now."

          Elliot frowned over at him. "You kept count?"

          "Yeah," he said, shrugging.

          "So...seven students are dead already? That makes me feel unsteady," Mavis mumbled cautiously, shaking her head.

          "More if you think about all the law students," Mathew said.

          Clementine then frowned strangely. He'd only felt the academy grow cold seven times, and if there were as many law students as there were others, shouldn't he have felt the place react to ninety more deaths? Did the building not trap the souls of whoever died over on that side of the academy? He'd never been over there, so he had no idea what it looked like or what went on.

          "Don't worry," Elliot then said, patting Mavis' shoulder. "As long as we stick together, we'll be okay."

          Suddenly, the gramophones outside in the hall crackled and fizzed. "All students, please proceed to the assembly hall. All students, please proceed to the assembly hall."

          Assembly hall? At first, Clementine wondered if whoever had just killed someone had been caught, but if that were the case, they'd be heading to the trial hall again. And he remembered from induction day that the assembly hall was the place students went to receive updates or news or anything that applied to everyone in the building. So, what was the reason for this summoning?

           "Why the assembly hall?" Elliot mumbled as they all filed out of Clementine's room.

          "I don't know," Mathew answered.

          "It's got to have something to do with whoever just died, right?"

          As Elliot looked over at him, Clementine shrugged. "Probably."

          They all grabbed their cardigans and hoodies and then headed for the door. Elliot led the way out, and once Clementine had locked the door, they joined the crowd of students heading towards the stairs.

          Clementine kept a very close eye out for Ian and his goons, checking each corner and pillar once again. It was evident that Ian didn't care about crowds; the way he'd approached his table at lunch made Clementine feel all the more cautious, and he wasn't going to be careless. Ian or any one of his goons could be waiting around a corner or behind a pillar, and he wasn't going to let them get the drop on him.

          He stuck close to Mathew in the midst of the crowd, which headed downstairs and through the academy. When they reached the line waiting outside the huge, double-oak doors, he leaned back against the wall and frantically checked from left to right. He didn't see Ian, and the longer that remained the case, the more sceptical he became. Could it really have been Ian that died? Could Sebastien have done it? Had he taken this whole, 'no one kills you yet' thing that far?

         The towering doors creaked inwards, revealing the huge, cathedral-like hall. The dark, oakwood floors shimmered in the light of the lanterns hanging from the rib-vaulted ceiling. The stained-glass windows displayed beautiful depictions of demons, angels, and dragons. One in particular displayed the progression of the world's history through paintings of horses and carriages, locomotives, blimps, and automobiles. Another displayed the very war that contributed to Clementine's current life course, and it brought a scowl to his face as he passed it.

          Clementine took his seat between Elliot and Mathew, and as everyone else started sitting down, he glanced around the hall, looking for Ian again. He spotted Connor and Horace, as well as one of the girls he'd seen with Ian the other night...and when his eyes finally located Ian, he wasn't sure whether he felt anger or dread—maybe both. For a moment, he really had thought he was dead.

          A loud bang then echoed through the hall as the doors were pulled shut. At the end of the hall, Professor Huxley made his way along the stage and stood in front of the draping crimson curtains. He gripped the black podium with his talon-like hands and glared out at the silent students, his amber eyes peering into each of their souls. When the man's eyes met his, Clementine felt a cold shiver slither down his spine. He still creeped him out.

          "Good afternoon, students," Huxley bellowed. "You have all been called here so that we may inform you: ten percent of you have now departed Aldergrove Academy. There are ninety of you left, and eighty-four days remain of this current school semester."

          A choir of whispers and mumbles travelled through the hall, but Clementine was stricken with horror. Ten students were gone? That didn't equate to the number of times he'd felt the building go cold. Molly, that kid getting spat on by those girls, Nicolette's sister, that kid he'd heard getting chased outside, just now, and whoever had died when he'd felt the cold that night—and the time it had happened not too long after Carmichael, Bernard, and Stanley's trial. That was only seven, so when had the other three instances occurred? Had they found Harrison? Oh, God...they'd found Harrison. His heart began pounding, his legs started trembling.

          No...Huxley hadn't said ten students were dead, he'd just said they were gone. Missing. Yes. Harrison was missing. He already knew Ian knew that—he'd heard him talking to his cronies about it the other day.

          Why was he even freaking out? So what if they found Harrison? There wasn't anything on his body that would tie him to his murder. But the idea he'd been found unsettled him for a moment. He'd hidden his body in a fashion that made it impossible for anyone to discover him.

          He exhaled quietly, trying to calm down as Huxley went on to re-explain the rules of murder. But then his eyes met with Ian's. The kid was glaring right at him from across the hall, which sent an electrifying, sickening shiver through Clementine's entire body.

          Did Ian know? Did he suspect him? Of course he did—why else would he be staring at him like that?! Clementine's heart started pounding again, so hard that he felt as though it was lodged in his throat. He tried to take his eyes off Ian, but he couldn't. He was frozen, shivering, anxiety pooling in his sickly stomach.

          No...he couldn't let Ian know he was afraid. If he did that, Ian would come straight for him. He did his best to fight his dread and scowled, glaring at him. He didn't need to feel so fearful anymore. He had Mathew to hide behind, and he wasn't going to rely on him, but he also had Sebastien, who would probably reappear out of nowhere if Ian prowled towards him again. Ian had to be just as cautious as he did, and that fact brought him a little comfort.

          He took his eyes off Ian and stared at Huxley.

          "We are also approaching All-Hallows' Eve," the professor called. "As all of you know—or at least, I hope you do, this holiday is very important. Professor Warren will be teaching you all the ancient traditions of this celebration this week and will also inform you of preparations for Aldergrove's celebratory ball."

          Excited murmurs echoed through the hall.

          Clementine wasn't much interested. No religion meant anything to him, and All-Hallows' Eve was simply another day for him.

          "Aren't you excited?" Elliot muttered with a smile on his face, nudging Clementine's shoulder. "My mother used to love celebrating All-Hallows' Eve."

          "My father's father's father was invited to join the patrolling security at His Lord's official party," Mathew boasted.

          "What?!" Elliot squealed. "That's so cool!"

          "My family never much cared for such a thing. They feel like this event is a celebration of sin," Mavis muttered.

          "You're not Caederian?" Elliot asked her.

          "No, and I'm not Lethidian, either. Fae don't follow the beliefs of this place—we have our own deities to embrace."

          "Then...why do you want to go to the New World?" Clementine asked. "Everyone over there is Caederian or Lethidian."

          "You don't have to be a follower of such cults to live there, Clemytine. You simply have to respect their beliefs and do nothing to cause them grief."

          He sat corrected.

          "Now, please enjoy the rest of your weekend," Huxley called over the crowd of excited students. "You may head back to your dorms or resume what you were doing." Then, the phantom-of-a-man headed off the stage and disappeared through a door beside it.

          Everyone started getting up and leaving the hall.

          Clementine searched the crowd for Ian, fearing he might make a move. He stayed close to Mathew, Elliot, and Mavis, and as they left the hall, he watched over his shoulder as Ian and his group of friends headed in the opposite direction. Phew.

          He then glared ahead, the sound of Elliot's excited voice starting to give him a headache. Evidently, the talk of All-Hallows' Eve had completely distracted his roommate from the fact someone else had died not too long ago. But he'd rather hear Elliot fangirl over something than listen to him cry and whine.

          What had Clementine's attention, though, was Harrison. Although he hadn't been confirmed dead, the fact the teachers now knew he was missing too did unsettle him. Of course they'd work it out, though. He hadn't shown for any of his classes, and for all he knew, Ian or one of his goons could have reported their fellow missing. He wasn't sure if Ian suspected him or not—he could have just been glaring at him for the same reason he had been since their confrontation in the library. To Ian, he was just some kid that had been following him. He'd like it to stay that way.

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