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It had been a long day. More had happened than Clementine could have comprehended, and as much as he knew he needed to lay down and rest, he couldn't. Before sleep, he needed to try and work out what his white-haired stalker was. And that was why he had wandered up to the library—the same one in which he'd slain Harrison Darby. He figured that the best place to start and get a bit of quiet time would be a room full of books brimming with information.

          He flicked through the delicate pages of a leather-bound book almost the size of his torso. He skimmed over the tiny, hand-written words, and every time his eyes started to feel heavy, he took a sip of his room-temperature latte.

          Seelies, wolf walkers, cold bloods; the book had expanded his knowledge a little more, however, it hadn't helped him in his search for white-haired, golden-eyed humanoids. But he'd not give up yet. It wasn't very late; he still had time to read a few more pages. However, as he flipped the page to a diagram of a seelie, a distorted, screeching roar hollered through the walls.

          Clementine lifted his head and stared over at the door. He waited, a murmur of trepidation spiralling through him. He'd never heard that sound before, and as a cold shiver ran down his spine, he began to feel as though there were hundreds of eyes on him. The walls creaked, the dust upon the shelves shifted, and the entire building seemed to groan in appeasement.

          Whispers slithered through the woodwork, and as the temperature in the library dropped dramatically, Clementine wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. He exhaled deeply, his breath visible as it left his mouth. A similar roar rumbled through the ominous silence...and then, the cold relented, the whispers died down, and the library began to warm up again.

          This wasn't like before. He'd heard the whispers; he'd felt the staring eyes...but that bitterness—that ominous feeling of the academy seething in delight. What the hell had just happened?

          He didn't exactly want to stick around and find out. Whatever that roar belonged to sounded huge, and the last thing he needed to be right now was alone. So, he hastily slammed his book shut, snatched his backpack, and left the library, heading for his dorm.

          But as he made his way through the corridor, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He picked up his pace, and once he reached the bottom of the stairs, his power walk became a panicked jog. When he reached the forking hallway, though, he stopped—a faint crackling echoed down the corridor to his right...the infirmary was down that way...and Molly was alone.

          He didn't really care about her. He was here to kill the Ravenblood before his time ran out...but he couldn't do that if he didn't have a group of people to hide among. He'd chosen Elliot and his friends, who cared about Molly. If he wanted to keep them close, then checking on her was probably the least he could do, right?

          With a wary look about his face, he traipsed through the gloomy corridor, checking every corner and turn to ensure he was alone. A sickening smell of sulphur filled the bitter air, which became colder the closer he got to the infirmary. And when he approached the arched entrance, his eyes widened, a mirage of white seeping from within.

          He stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed upon something he didn't have the words to explain. Silky, protruding vines clung to the infirmary's pillars and rib-vaulted ceiling, viscous, silver slime trickling from each one. And in the very centre of the forest of white and silver hung the decimated, mangled corpse of Molly Brent. Her limbs were twisted and bent back, her skin was greyed and flaking, and the look on her face was something petrified.

          Clementine stared in repulse, his eyes examining each twisted limb, snapped bone and torn area of flesh. There was no sign of blood, no indication of her killer; there was nothing but spine-tingling cold and that nauseating stench of sulphur. And the whispers. They sat upon the unrest, denying silence to ensnare the horrific scene. The longer Clementine stared, the more gruelling it became. He'd never seen anything like this, and despite his own morbid deeds, the sight horrified him.

          Eyes...he could feel them on him again. He sharply turned his head to stare down the hallway, and he wasn't entirely sure what he'd set his sights on, but a set of four, shimmering yellow eyes was all he needed to see to know it was time to run.

          Without a second thought, he turned around and sprinted back the way he had come, but he could hear the thumping of heavy feet echoing behind him followed by a rumbling snarl—it was chasing him.

          He ran and ran and ran, skidding around the corners, the soles of his shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. Sweat slithered down from his forehead, he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and when his approaching exhaustion became too much, he began to feel lightheaded. But he couldn't stop—the thumping footsteps were getting louder, closer—he had no idea where he was going, he'd passed the staircase that led up to the dorms moments ago and, in his panic, had only just realized it. He could circle back around—he could burst into someone else's room and claim he got lost—anywhere was better than out in these bitter, winging corridors.

          Clementine panted frantically as he sped around another corner, his eyes weeping from the cold air swiping at his face. His legs began to feel like jelly, and he knew he was just moments from stumbling and falling flat on his ass. But that would be the end—if he stopped, whatever was chasing him would kill him, and he'd die for absolutely nothing...his sister would have died for nothing. He couldn't let that happen...he couldn't fail her—he had to keep going.

          The pounding footsteps were just moments away and the snarls of the creature chasing him grew louder. His heart was pounding, his body was trembling. This couldn't be it...he couldn't be about to die because he'd made a stupid mistake...another foolish decision. Why couldn't he have just gone straight to his room? Why couldn't he have just stuck to his plan—the plan he'd made before coming to Aldergrove Academy? He was such an idiot—he had always been such an idiot—

          Clementine grunted as he crashed into something—someone. He landed on his backside, scraping his palms on the floor, and as he stared up at who he'd collided with, his fear-filled eyes widened.

          White hair, golden eyes, and his left eyebrow raised to compliment the demeaning look about his pale face.

          The creature—Clementine looked back over his shoulder, panting, trembling...but the footsteps had stopped, the snarls were silent...and there was nothing but the gloom of the hall behind him.

          He sharply turned his head to glare up at the white-haired kid, who he was sure was about to snatch his throat and play another game of 'how long can I choke Clementine for this time?', but instead, he looked Clementine up and down...almost as if he was trying to work out what he wanted to do with the next few moments.

          But Clementine wasn't going to let him figure it out. With what little strength his tired body had, Clementine scrambled to his feet and lunged at the boy—

          The white-haired kid grunted and snatched Clementine's wrist, but Clementine's other hand managed to slip through the boy's grip to snatch his collar. Clementine forced him back, trying to push him against the wall, but the kid fought back, attempting to overpower Clementine.

          Clementine scowled, gritting his teeth, but his exhaustion from running was starting to make it hard for him to maintain his ground. To his surprise, though, the smirk that he'd always seen on the white-haired kid's face wasn't present—instead, the boy glared at him in confusion. But Clementine wasn't going to let that throw him off. He abruptly pulled on the kid's collar, which caused them both to stumble, and as Clementine's back hit the wall, he felt panic slither through him—

          "Boys!" bellowed a familiar voice.

          They both sharply turned their heads, setting their eyes on Professor Huxley as he glided down the hall towards them, his amber eyes shimmering like candlelight in the gloom.

          "What are you doing out of your rooms after dark?" he questioned, stopping a few feet away from them.

          Clementine grunted and shoved the white-haired kid back—the boy grunted irritably, clenched his fist and went for him, but Huxley snatched his blazer and pulled him away, making him stand at his side.

          The professor then set his eyes on Clementine, who tried to catch his breath with a few deep, angered exhales. "Well?"

          His blue eyes glanced at the boy, who had adorned a stubborn glare. Then, he looked up at Huxley. "I was studying, sir," he answered.

          "Studying? In the halls? Wrestling a fellow student?" he asked, glancing down at the boy.

          The kid sighed. "We were just—"

          "I wasn't asking you," Huxley interjected, glaring down at him. "I was asking him." He set his eyes back on Clementine.

          He didn't know what to say. He hadn't forgotten about Molly or the thing that had been chasing him, but he suspected neither of those things mattered to Huxley. After all, he hadn't witnessed who had killed her or who or what the creature was, so his information was useless.

          Clementine glanced at the white-haired kid. This could quite possibly be his chance to remove him from the equation—to get rid of him so that he could continue with his quest here in peace. "He tried to kill me," he grumbled, waving his hand at the kid.

          The boy scoffed. "If I had, you'd be dead already," he argued.

          Huxley crossed his arms.

          "You were choking me! Three times today!"

          "Is what he says the truth, Sebastien?"

          Sebastien?

          The white-haired kid looked up at Huxley. "No," he uttered with a snarky tone.

          "Did he strangle you?"

          "Tch, please," the kid grumbled, a condescending glower on his face as he glared at Clementine.

          Huxley then adorned a sceptical glare. "I have heard whispers floating around of two boys caught kissing in the bathroom. One of them fits your description perfectly," he accused, looking Clementine up and down.

          A frown of embarrassment struck Clementine's face.

          "Now, boys, there's no need to be embarrassed. If that's what was going on here, neither of you are in trouble."

          "It wasn't!" Clementine exclaimed out of sheer humiliation. "He was trying to—"

          "Don't get so worked up, babe," Sebastien said with a shrug. Then, he moved closer and forced his arm around Clementine's shoulders, side-hugging him.

          Clementine scowled in revolt and tried to shrug him off, but he squeezed his arm a little tighter, grinning up at Huxley.

          "Get back to your dorms," Huxley said, his tone a little calmer. "Neither of you should be wandering around this late, together or alone. And whatever squabble you were having out here...do it elsewhere."

          Sebastien nodded. "Sure thing, sir. Come on babe, let's go have that talk—"

          "I'm not your babe!" Clementine snapped, pushing him away.

          "Come on, don't be like that," he complained, reaching for his hand.

          "Don't make me tell you again, boys. Sort this out anywhere but here," Huxley scolded.

          Sebastien snatched Clementine's hand—he tried to pull free, but that only made the kid tighten his grip. "We're going, we're going," he said as he turned around and started pulling Clementine down the hall with him.

          "Get off me!" he argued.

          "Bye, sir!" Sebastien called, waving his free hand above his head...and once Huxley's quiet footsteps faded down the hall, he abruptly shoved Clementine into the hallway to the left, gripped his shoulders and pinned him against the wall. "Are you trying to get kicked out, idiot?!" he exclaimed, glaring into his eyes.

          Glowering back at him, Clementine gripped both his wrists, pulled his hands from his shoulders and pushed him back. "Get the hell off me!" he growled. "What do you want from me, huh?!"

          Sebastien scoffed as he took a step back, looking him up and down.

          Clementine had no patience left. "Are you following me?! Is this all just some messed up game?!"

          "Sheesh, calm down—"

          "You calm down!" he exclaimed. "I didn't even do anything to you!"

          "Well, yeah...that's kinda the point here. You didn't miss induction day, did you?"

          "No!"

          "So why are you whining about it?"

          "I'm not whining!"

          He looked him up and down again. "This is literally whining—"

          "What are you even talking about?!" he growled in frustration.

          "What are you talking about?"

          "You trying to kill me!"

          Sebastien laughed as he moved back and leaned against the wall, resting his right foot up against it. "Trust me, you'd be dead already if that were the case."

          "Then what do you want?!"

          "Nothing."

          Confused, frustrated, and feeling as though he was losing his mind a little, Clementine shook his head and scowled. "So then why the hell are you following me? Why do you keep showing up?!"

          "I don't know...coincidence?"

          Clementine growled in frustration—this really was just fun and games to him, wasn't it? He was enjoying this.

          Sebastien then sighed deeply. "Whatever," he mumbled. "Until next time, little mo—"

          "Oh, no," Clementine scoffed as he lunged forward and grabbed Sebastien's collar again. "There isn't going to be a next time."

          His threat didn't seem to alarm the kid at all. Instead, he smirked and gripped Clementine's wrist. "We'll see," he said, and then, before Clementine could do anything, Sebastien stepped back and seethed into the wall....

          And he was gone.

          Clementine stared for a moment, a look of stupor on his face. He'd just seen someone melt into a wall.... Of course, that must have been how he'd gotten away from him earlier without so much as a hint of where he had gone. He'd disappeared into the wall, hadn't he? But witnessing that only confused Clementine more. He had no idea what this kid was—this...Sebastien. His visit to the library had gotten him nowhere, and now, his need to find out was approaching desperation. He needed to know what he was up against...now.

          But then, a faint creak and crack slithered down the hall. The thought of Molly's decimated corpse possessed him, as did the fear of whatever had been chasing him. He wasn't going to spend another moment alone in this corridor.

          Without any further delay, he turned around and hurried through the halls, heading back towards his dorm. 

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♠ Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! ♠

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