When Tara woke up, both her nostrils were blocked - as if they'd been stuffed with cement.

For once, she was thankful. She probably would've passed out if she smelled Alastair again.

She was slow as she moved her hand to pick the gunk out of her eyes. And there was a lot. She had barely been able to force her eyes to open.

She let out a groan, every muscle in her body hurt.

"Finally, you're up." Said a voice.

"Go...a...way." She moaned as she sat up, creaking and groaning like an old machine. Her head was pounding.

"I can't very well do that, love."

"I told you...not-call me that."

"Sorry, sweetheart."

"Fuck...you."

Alastair tutted. "Cursing so early in the morning, what would mother say?"

Tara didn't have the strength to reply as tried to blow her nose. Nothing came out or went in.

"Wha... time?"

"Almost seven." Alastair peered down at her in concern.

Tara's eyes blew open wide.

"Huh? At... Nig..ht?"

Alastair huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You wish, in the morning."

Tara let out an exasperated breath as she quickly, but slowly got up like an old creaking lady in her hundreds.

"You snore like a drunken sailor, by the way."

Tara put a pained hand on her hip. Too sore to retort.

Every muscle in her body hurt like nothing she'd ever felt before. Of course she had to over-do it with the shovelling.

"You need to move, get up Tara." Alastairs' voice was gentle as he whispered her name.

She felt so starved, so thirsty, so much in pain. All she wanted to do was lie down and never get up again. She didn't know why but she listened to him without complaint and got up creaking and groaning.

"Listen to me. Go put the shovel back where you found it, and wipe it down. Remove your fingerprints."

Slowly, she bent and picked up the shovel and did what Alastair told her.

She was so tired. And in so much pain.

It hurt to think, to move. And she was so, so thirsty. So hungry.

"Come on, now pat down the mud. Make it smooth. Like how it was when you came in."

She was like a zombie, slaving away. Her eyelids became heavier and heavier. Filling with tears again as she caught the sight of Alastairs body once again. It somehow looked worse. So much worse than yesterday.

"Now, scream."

"Huh?"

"Scream."

She let out a weak moan.

"No, scream like you wanted to the first time you saw me."

Tara opened her mouth and let out the loudest scream she could. With her hoarse throat and pain bumbling through her as her cracked lips stretched painfully wide.

Alastair glared at her. She couldn't tell whether he was amused or pained.

"Run."

"I...can't." She said weakly.

"Crawl if you have to. Get out of here."

Tara didn't know why, his voice was so gentle and sweet but it still made her eyes water.

"I can't," She repeated. "It hurts."

"A killer will always be a killer, love." He murmured sweetly into her ear.

A sob racked through her body as she began to crawl out of the room. “Bitch.”

A throaty chuckle from behind her carried her all the way to the main basement, up the stairs where a student found her and screamed loud and proper.

She almost laughed.

Soon a whole crowd of students were around her. Whispering and pointing

She only let herself talk when a teacher, the chemistry teacher knelt by her and clasped her hand.

"Call..." She licked her dry lips. "Call nine-one-one."

And the world around her went black.