Dark, heavy clouds resided over Haynes Academy—-a storm was brewing.

     Iris Haynes made her way down the twisted corridors made of corroding stone, watching her pupils as they passed by.

    Each student seemed to bow to her as she passed as if they were afraid of what might happen if they didn't do so—-as if they were afraid there would be major repercussions… Lethal repercussions.

     A young boy was heading down the hallway; he was about seven years in age. He continued to make his way down the dimly lit corridor as if there was some place he so desperately needed to be.

    The young boy didn't notice the slightly uprooted stone just ahead of him—-he tripped, smacking right into Iris.

     "S-Sorry!" He immediately stammered as he tried to pick up the books and papers he had dropped. The terrified look on his face was dimly lit up by the nearby torches on the cold, stone walls.

     Crap! Crap! Crap!, the young boy began to think. I'm such an idiot! He gulped as he reached for the last book.

      As the young boy's fingers hooked onto the edge of the book, Iris planted a boot upon it, stepping down, full-force.

       The boy froze, stiff as a statue, with pure terror. He swallowed once more as he slowly began to look up at the Headmistress.

      There Iris stood in all of her terrifying glory—-long dark hair and burning orange embers for eyes. Despite her being quite a few centuries old, she looked no more than twenty-two. "What's your name, boy?"

     "I-Igor, ma'am," the young boy once again stammered. Igor had never truly ever felt this terrified ever in his life. What have I done?, Igor began to think to himself. Dammit! I'm so stupid! I'm gonna die! This is it! I'm gonna die the most gruesome death in history.

    Igor moved his hand back from the book, slowly and cautiously. His fingers slowly tugged on the thigh portion of his pants, fidgeting nervously with them. "I'm sorry," the little boy repeated once more to Iris. "I really am, ma'am." He exhaled. "I should've been more careful."

     "Yes, you should've," Iris began to say, sounding annoyed with the little boy. "Tell me, Igor, what ever was so important you had to speed through my halls? Hm?" Iris's tone was so cold, just hearing it could make anyone freeze right in their tracks.

    Igor's shoulders tensed up a little at that. "I uh…" He began to explain. "My dog, Milo… He's sick." He sniffled a little. "I just wanted to go see him… Because I found out his condition was only getting worse…" Igor's sad tone slowly drifted off to nothing at the end of the sentence.

     "And what kind of dog is Milo?" Castella wanted to feel pity for Igor and his dog… But Iris didn't.

      "A husky," Igor whispered softly, no longer being able to meet Iris's burning gaze as he continued to fidgeting with his clothes.

       Iris laughed a little. "I hope your dog passes."

      Igor's gaze shot upward with shock at his headmistress saying such a thing. He scrambled to his feet. "No, no. Miss Haynes… You don't understand… Milo is my world," the little boy began to explain. His breathing rate increased ever so slightly as he began become just a little bit more panicked after Iris's comment. "H-He's my only friend."

      Iris raised a dark eyebrow at the little boy's comment. "He's your only friend?"

      Igor nodded quickly. "Yep." His voice still seemed worried as did his demeanor.

      Iris laughed again. "Pathetic." She seemed to put extra emphasis on the 'P'.

      Igor stiffened even more then he thought to be possible.

       Iris!, Castella scolded. Be nicer to him! He's just a little boy!

      Shut up!, Iris thought, responding the former host she had locked away in her mind for centuries upon centuries—-it would even remain that way far in the future… Well, that was if everything went according to Iris's plan.

      "No friends…" Iris began to say to the boy in sort of a teasing tone.

     Igor rubbed his arm, nervously—-his heart slowly beginning to ache.

     "What about family?" Iris began to ask the boy. "Your father?"

       Igor swallowed again. "My father—-Anton Avdyushin—-isn't exactly in the picture anymore."

      "Oh?" Iris raised an eyebrow, curiously. "And why's that?" Anton Avdyushin… Anton Avdyushin… Anton Avdyushin… The name sounds familiar, but where have I heard it? Iris thought to herself, trying to recall the exact time and place she would've heard that name—-or rather, when and where she would've met Anton Avdyushin.

      You slept with him, idiot!, Castella hissed to Iris. You slept with him even though we were already married to someone else! You got knocked up and I thought we should keep the kid. But, no! You had to go and give that kid up! We can't ever have one nice thing, huh?

       Igor answered, "My father was a werewolf." He rocked back and forth a little. "Some hunters found out and…" His voice eased to a halt as if he didn't want to say anymore—-as if this story hurt him. "Got him," the little boy said, trying to spare Iris of hearing the gory details, as well as sparing himself of repeating it.

     "Got him?" Iris began to say, somewhat amused by the little boy's explanation of what happened to Anton.

     Our marriage to Olwyn?, Castella began, still rambling about in Iris's mind. Gone! The coven we were a part of as a young girl? Destroyed. Our relationship with our daughter Zoey? Practically non-existent. And our relationship with our other daughter Astrid? Tattered and destroyed—-it'll never be repaired. …All because you two got into a little disagreement and you took it too far. You made a deal with the goddamn Devil and gave him your daughter's soul to torture for all eternity.

     Iris mentally snickered at that.

      What the hell is wrong with you? Castella responded to that.

      "Got him," Igor repeated to Iris.

       "And your mother?" Iris asked, already knowing the response. He's my boy… I know that, she thought to herself.

       "Never met her," Igor responded softly.

       "Get out of here," Iris replied, seemingly out of the blew in a growling tone.

        Igor blinked a few times in disbelief. "W-What?"

       "You crashed into me, you know…" Iris began to tell the little boy. "I could've had your head for that." She sucked in a breath. "But I'll have some restraint… Call it a kindness. You have one minute to be out of my sight before I make you wolf food."

      Igor nodded. "Of course, ma'am." He quickly picked up the rest of the books before running down the hallway as fast as he could as if a witch hunter was after him. He rounded the corner, disappearing completely from Iris's sight.

     Iris silently shook her head to herself as she continued on to her office.

     She closed the door behind her. If any one of those pesky brats tries to interrupt me, I'll have their head, Iris commented mentally. She headed to her desk before sitting down.

      You know… You didn't have to be so mean to Igor, Castella commented on the events and conversations that had unfolded earlier.

      "Well, if I didn't," Iris began, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "He'd never learn anything… He'd still be a selfish brat who thinks he'll get everything handed to him on a silver platter."

       He's been through a lot.

      "And so has everyone else in this miserable, cruel world," Iris said, exhaling. She leaned backward in her chair, reclining a little. Iris looked up at the ceiling for a bit before looking downward a little, her hands coming to rest on the small bump in her abdomen. The witch laughed. "Oh… I have great plans for you…"