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History dragged on for two hours. By time Clementine was let out of the classroom, it was time for him to take the day's second med. He went to wander off on his own to take it, but he hesitated and looked over at Mathew, Mavis, and Elliot. The three of them were chattering excitedly about the upcoming trip to Ulrora Slope that Professor Warren had mentioned everyone would be taking to go and buy outfits for the All-Hallows' Eve ball.

          Should he ask them to tag along? He just needed to head into the bathroom real fast, down his med, and that was it. Simple.

          "Hey, guys," he said, interrupting their conversation.

          They all looked at him.

          "I gotta use the bathroom. Would you mind waiting outside?"

          "Oh, yeah no problem," Elliot said.

          "We're going to hang out in the library together after," Mathew said as they headed towards the bathrooms. "To see if we can find something that would make a good offering."

          Mavis nodded. "We have four days to work out our offering—it will be greater than anything!"

          "When are we heading to Ulrora Slope?" Mathew asked. "Professor Warren said there are carriages tomorrow and Wednesday."

          "I think we should go tomorrow," Elliot said as they reached the bathroom door. "The sooner we get it out of the way, the better, right?" He looked at Clementine.

          "Yeah," he said, pushing the bathroom door open. "I'll be right back."

          "All right," Elliot said with a nod.

          Clementine let the door swing shut behind him. He followed the short corridor to the second door, pushed it open, and made his way along the bathroom's marble floor. He stepped into the middle cubicle, locked the door, and closed the toilet lid. Then, he sat down and reached into his bag. He pulled out his pen, unscrewed it, and let one of the small white pills fall out into his hand. With a quiet sigh, he lifted his hand closer to his face and threw the pill into his mouth.

          He tilted his head back, swallowing the rancid medication, but that was when he heard the door open—or at least a door. He tensed up, staring at the stall door. He didn't hear the bustling of students outside or the sound of Elliot, Mavis or Mathew chattering, either.

          The sound of balmoral shoes clinked against the marble, and as he sat there, Clementine recalled what had happened the last time he'd been sitting in a stall in the bathroom. Sebastien—the thought of that kid angered him, and if it was him, he was ready to give him a piece of his mind.

          But nobody tried opening his stall door. Instead, he listened as the door of another stall creaked shut and locked. He exhaled in relief, his tense body calming down. He'd only heard a single pair of shoes, and it seemed as though whoever had come in was simply there to use the toilet. So, he screwed his pen back up, slipped it into his back, and threw it over his shoulders. Then, he unlocked his door and stepped out—

          Three glowering faces met his startled eyes. A hand reached out to grab him, and as he dodged, he summoned a blade in his hand—but one boy grabbed his shoulders, and as he dropped his knife, another kid kicked his shin, and the third slammed his fist into his stomach.

          Clementine grunted painfully as he fell to the floor, pain shooting through his knees as they met with the marble. Before he had even a moment to recover, two of the boys grabbed an arm each and pulled him to his feet. He struggled and growled, trying to escape, but it was no use.

          "We got you now," Connor said, leaning into his face.

          Looking to his left and right, Clementine saw that Horace was one of the boys holding him, and the other looked like Lloyd, one of the kids he'd found in the student files.

          "There isn't anyone around to save you this time," Connor growled, clenching his fist.

          And then, before Clementine could even try to call for his allies, Connor slammed his fist into his face.

          The force burdened Clementine with confusion more than pain. His ears started ringing, blood began oozing from his nose, and the distorted laughter of Connor and his friends swirled around inside his head. His body convulsed as he tried to pull free, but when Connor punched his stomach, his limbs went numb.

          Clementine gritted his teeth and grunted, each of Connor's punches pushing him closer and closer to what he feared really was the end this time. Surely someone outside must be hearing this? Where were Elliot, Mathew, and Mavis? No, they wouldn't hear through the two doors and small corridor between them. But still, why hadn't they come to see what was taking him so long? Had Ian's goons got to his allies, too?

          One last punch dislodged his bottom right molar, which flew out of his mouth and clinked against the mirror, leading drops of blood along its surface. His entire body went numb, and with what little strength he had, he lifted his head to glare at Connor's glee-smothered face—

          Blood.

          The metallic taste stained Clementine's tongue as crimson splattered onto his face. He fell to the floor, and when he hit the marble, Connor lay in front of him. He had no idea what was going on—all he could see was Connor's bloody face...and the end of a silver blade protruding right between his eyes.

          He heard commotion, muffled voices, blurs of white and black. Blood splattered onto the marble all around him, and moments later, the bodies of one of the boys crashed to the ground beside him.

          Pain pulsed through his body, but he did his best to lift his face from the floor. And when he managed to turn onto his side, he expected his clearing vision to reveal Mathew...but instead, his eyes set themselves on Sebastien.

          With a startled yet irritated scowl on his bruised, bloody face, he watched as Horace's hand morphed into a bird-like claw—he swung it towards Sebastien, who was recovering from a punch to his chest. Horace let out something of a shriek as he stabbed his taloned fingers into Sebastien's side, but the white-haired kid wasn't shaken. Sebastien widened his jaw and savagely sunk his fangs into Horace's exposed neck.

          Clementine's scowl became a confused one as he watched Horace become lifeless. His body dropped to the floor, his bird-like hand twitched, small black feathers floating around where he'd been standing.

          Sebastien let out something of an irritated snarl, wiping his blood lips with the back of his hand. Blood trickled down his chin, and as he set his shimmering golden eyes on Clementine, a cold shiver shot down his back.

          Panic quickly enthralled him as Sebastien approached—was he next? His eyes shot down to Sebastien's extending hand; Clementine tried to scramble away, but his hand slipped in the blood on the marble, and the back of his head hit the floor.

          His heart raced in his aching chest and his horrified eyes widened as Sebastien stood over him. He expected the kid to reach down and snatch his neck...but instead, Sebastien was holding his hand out to him.

          For a moment, he stared at Sebastien's bloody face...and then looked down at his hand. He had so many questions, but as he glanced around at the dead bodies of Ian's goons, he swallowed his confoundment and aggravation and took the boy's hand.

          The moment he was on his feet, though, he shoved Sebastien away and took a few stumbling steps back. "Why do you keep showing up like this?!" he snapped, but then grunted painfully as his body twinged in multiple places.

          But Sebastien didn't answer him. He turned around and glowered down at Connor, and when Clementine looked down at him, he realized that the blade cutting through his head was actually his—the same blade he'd dropped when Connor's two friends had grabbed him. Sebastien gripped its silver hilt, pulled it from the kid's skull, and then held it out to Clementine.

          "You could say thanks, you know," he uttered. This time, he didn't have a cocky tone in his voice and there wasn't a smirk on his face.

          Frowning sceptically, Clementine snatched the blade from him. "For what?"

          "I don't know...saving your life...again?" he sneered.

          Scoffing, Clementine banished his blade back to where he stored them and glared at Sebastien. "It's a little coincidental that you just so happen to keep showing up when shit happens," he growled.

          But instead of arguing, Sebastien rolled his eyes and turned around—

          "Where are you going?" Clementine snapped, reaching out to grab him, but not only did it send pain through his body, causing him to yank his arm back, but Sebastien also evaded his snatching hand and stepped back—he stumbled over Horace's body, and when his back hit a stall door, he grunted irritably and gripped his waist.

          Clementine looked down at Sebastien's hand to see blood seeping through his sweater and fingers. Evidently, Horace's talons had harmed him more than he was letting on. He didn't like this kid, but he had just helped him again.... The least he could do was try to return the favour.

          "Are you okay?" he asked him.

          Sebastien scoffed, moving away from the stall door. "Asks the kid who just nearly got beat to death—"

          "I didn't ask you to help me, you know," he grumbled, losing his concerned frown.

          And then he smirked. "I know," he said, that snarky tone returning to his voice. "But I did it anyway."

          "Why?!" Clementine demanded.

          He opened his mouth to reply—

          "And don't give me that 'I can't let anyone kill you yet 'cause I'm not done with you' bull-crap!" he insisted.

          For a moment, Sebastien just...stared at him. It almost seemed like he was debating whether or not to tell him something. But before the silence between them could become awkward, the white-haired kid looked down at the dead bodies and sighed. "Are you gonna snitch on me?"

          "What?"

          He looked over at him. "You saw me kill them."

          Clementine glanced at Horace, Connor, and Lloyd. He had just seen him kill all three of them. He wasn't sure how he'd killed Lloyd, but he'd witnessed the blade cut through Connor's skull, and watched him tear Horace's throat out with his teeth.

          "Of course, it was your knife that killed that one," Sebastien said, nodding down at Connor. "And no one would believe you if you told them I did this."

          "What?" he uttered, glaring at Sebastien.

          Sebastien shrugged, smirking.

          "I'm not a snitch," he growled, offended.

          "Are you sure?"

          "I'm not!"

          The kid's smirk became a grin. "All right then."

          "How did they even get in here?" he muttered, looking back over his shoulder at the door. "I've got people outside."

          Sebastien nodded over at the left corner of the bathroom, where only now Clementine noticed there was a turning. "I followed them."

          "W..." he stopped himself asking why—he knew he'd get the same answer or another subject change. He shook his head, wiping the blood from his face.

          "We should go," Sebastien said, stepping over Horace's body. "Did anyone else see you come in? Will your friends snitch?"

          As Sebastien headed for the turning, Clementine hurried after him. "No one else saw me—and they're not my friends," he said, irritated.

          Sebastien led him towards another door. "You sure about that? The little spotty one seems overly fond of you—"

          "He's not!" he exclaimed.

          With a quiet laugh, Sebastien pushed the door open. "All right, calm down."

          Clementine scowled, glaring at the back of Sebastien's head as they followed the narrow corridor and pushed another door open, emerging into a deserted hallway.

          "I saw Ian head upstairs, so you'll be good from here—"

          "Where are you going?" Clementine interjected as Sebastien went to head off in the opposite direction.

          Sebastien shrugged. "Away."

          "Away where?"

          He frowned. "Why are you so interested?" he asked, a smirk creeping across his pale face.

          Clementine scoffed. "I'm not."

          "So what's with all the questions?"

          "Uh, I don't know...maybe the fact you just killed three—"

          "Shh," Sebastien hushed, placing his index finger against Clementine's bloody lips.

          With an irritated growl, Clementine shoved Sebastien's arm away. "What do you want from me?!" he demanded, his voice hushed. "Tell me what you know about Ian!"

          "All in good time, little mousey. Right now, I think you should be more concerned with getting back to your friends before they go in there looking for you," he said, nodding at the bathroom door.

          Clementine frowned and looked back at the bathroom door. He was right. If Elliot saw those bodies, he'd probably scream and the whole academy would know.

          He sighed, looking back at Sebastien...but he was gone. Clementine clenched his fists in frustration as he looked to his left and then his right, but of course, just like before, there was no trace of him.

          Then, he looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood and he was sure his face still was, too. What was he going to do? If he returned to his allies like this, they'd know something happened. But what if he just told them the truth? He was already considering asking them to help him in some way or another, and it would be much easier to just admit that he'd seen someone kill those three kids rather than wait for their bodies to be discovered and for Elliot to piece it together.

          With another frustrated sigh, he looked up and down the hall. No...he needed to stop being naïve. He'd already worked out he couldn't keep doing this alone—he needed his allies to trust him. If he was going to survive this place...if he was going to take out the rest of his enemies before his time ran out, he needed Elliot, Mathew, and even Mavis by his side.

          So, he shook off his anger, swallowed his pride...and headed back into the bathroom.

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