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Staring into the water made Clementine think of his sister. He remembered when Anette taught him to swim so that he could accompany her to get fish. He didn't miss those murky, rancid swamps, but he did miss her.
What would she think of him now? He'd been in this godforsaken place for an entire week and he'd only killed one Ravenblood. He had no idea how many more were inside the school, and he had already almost died three times now—more if he counted the monster in the halls and beast in the forest.
He was letting her down, wasn't he? He'd come here to wipe out the next generation of Ravenblood—he'd come here to take them all down with him. But he had a little over five months left...and he hadn't made enough progress.
As a pair of girls dived into the pool, he took his eyes off the water and looked over at the door. He needed to get that roster, death caps, and not to mention more ceraroot. But he had to be patient. He had to wait until dark. And as he glanced out the window, he was relieved to see that the sky was growing dimmer.
"Hey, Clementine!" came Elliot's voice.
He sighed and looked over at the pool. Elliot was climbing out, and as he headed over, Clementine did his best to dismiss his frown.
"We're going to head back soon. Are you sure you don't want to dip in for a few minutes? It's nice," Elliot said, looking back over his shoulder at the pool.
Clementine shook his head and yawned. "I'm all right. I just want to get back and go to bed, to be honest." He hoped his fake yawn would convince Elliot to turn that 'soon' into 'momentarily'.
Elliot frowned sympathetically and looked back at Mavis and Mathew, who were comparing her dragonfly-like wings to the fin-like spikes on his back. Then, he looked back at Clementine. "I can ask them if they want to leave now, if you like."
He shook his head. "It's fine—"
"No, you're tired. It's okay. I'll go ask them," Elliot said.
With a deep sigh, Clementine nodded. "Okay."
"We'll be right out," he said, and then, he wandered back over to the pool and waved at Mathew and Mavis, signalling them that it was time to get out.
Clementine got up and headed over to the changing rooms, and as his allies disappeared inside, he leaned back against the wall and waited.
He watched the students in the pool closely—all of them were in groups of at least three. He saw the largest group eying each trio, and Clementine was pretty sure they were planning to make a move. He didn't recognize any of them, nor could he tell what they were just by looking. He really needed to sharpen his skills if he was going to survive long enough to take out all his enemies. Could he ask Elliot for help? He'd already taught him how to spot a wolf walker; could he help him tell what everyone else was from a quick glance?
"Hey," Elliot said.
Taking his eyes off the pool, Clementine looked over at him, Mavis, and Mathew.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod.
"Mathew said he's going to walk us all back to our rooms."
Mavis clapped her hands. "So kind, what a lovely friend to find."
Mathew nodded. "I can make sure you are all safe."
"Thanks," Clementine mumbled.
"We're dormitory sixty-three," Elliot told Mathew as they left the poolroom.
"I'm thirty-eight," Mavis revealed.
"Forty," Mathew said.
"Do you have roommates?" Elliot asked them both.
Mavis nodded. "I had Jack, but...well, you know the story of him not coming back."
"I have my own room," Mathew said. "There are a selection of students who were given single dorms—I think...they paired up those that were less likely to murder each other, and thought I looked like the type to suffocate his roommate on night one."
Clementine wasn't going to disagree. If he hadn't been introduced to Mathew and had seen him wandering the halls, he'd assume he was exactly that kind of person.
"What are you?" he then blurted.
They all looked at him...and then at Mathew, who adorned a frown.
"No, wait," Elliot said, shaking his head as they left the conservatory and started walking across the moonlit grass. "Let me guess—if that's okay, that is."
Mathew nodded. "Please."
"Hmm...." Elliot looked him up and down as they continued forward, walking sideways like some sort of crab-human so he could stare at Mathew. "Well, you're pale, tall, black eyes—my first guess would be some species of demon, but if that were true, you'd have formed a pack by now."
Scratching his spiky hair, Mathew shrugged. "Not demon."
Elliot nodded. "So...my next guess would be...berserker?"
Mavis gasped. "Is that true, Mathew?"
"How did you deduce that?" Mathew asked, smiling down at him.
"Well, like I said, you look like either a demon or a berserker, but you're not in a pack, and berserkers are usually solitary with their own kind, unless you're in a family. You also said all of your family are henchmen or bodyguards—these two jobs are usually dominated by berserkers," Elliot explained matter-of-factly.
"You are smart," Mathew said with a nod.
"Can you tell what anyone is just from a single glance?" Clementine asked.
Elliot looked over at him. "Well, probably not every time, but I am pretty good at it," he boasted.
"You'll have to teach us a little," Clementine suggested, "I'm sure we could all use such a skill."
Mavis nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, okay," Elliot said as they headed into the academy through one of the lounge doors. "Clementine and I have detention tomorrow, but maybe we can all meet after?"
"Good idea," Mathew said with a nod.
Mavis nodded again, too.
"Sounds good," Clementine agreed.
They headed through the academy, navigating up to the dormitory floors. They took Mavis to her room first, and then Mathew escorted Clementine and Elliot to theirs. They said their farewells, and as Elliot closed their door, Clementine headed straight for his room.
"Goodnight!" Elliot called.
"Yeah, night," he called back and then pushed his door shut.
Alone at last, Clementine fell back into his bed, but the collision sent pain spiralling through his body. How could he have forgotten about his bruises?
With a quiet sigh, he dragged his hand over his face. As much as he wanted to sink into his blankets and sleep off the day, he couldn't—not yet. He sat up, forcing himself to stay awake. He stared at the sky through his window, waiting for its purple to fade to black.
He waited....
And waited....
Tick, tock, tick, tock....
He watched the hands of his pocket watch...and when they finally struck ten, he decided it was late enough to head out.
Quietly, he made his way over to his door and eased it open. Elliot's door was shut, and he could swear he heard him snoring. He grabbed his dorm key, crept over to the exit, and left. He made sure the door was locked, and as he slipped his key into his pocket, he snuck down the hallway.
Clementine followed the dormitory hall to its end, headed down the stairs, and navigated the academy's empty, quiet corridors. To his relief, he didn't see anyone spitting acid on other kids this time—he made sure to check every corner, listening, ensure nothing and no one would surprise him. And when he reached the large, open hall, he headed up the concrete stairs he knew led to the professors' lounge.
He tip-toed up them, emerging into the narrow hallway. His set his determined sights on the old oak door at the end and gradually moved closer. It was late, but for all he knew, someone could still be inside. So, once he reached it, he pressed his ear against the door and listened.
Nothing.
Silence.
With a cautious frown on his face, he gripped the door handle...and twisted it.
Click.
The door creaked open, and Clementine's face was immediately hit with a freezing draft. Had someone left a window open? He scowled, slinking into the dark room as he shivered. He dragged his hands along the wall in search of a light switch but stopped when he found it. It probably wasn't a good idea to turn a light on in a room he wasn't supposed to be in.
Instead, he wandered over to the window and parted the curtains. In the silvery light of the moon, the gloom thinned, allowing Clementine to get a better look at where he was.
A large glass chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, reflecting moonlight in every direction. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves and hand-painted murals. Filing cabinets were lined along the back wall, and between them was a desk stacked with papers and several large grimoire-looking books.
He moved past the leather couches and headed over to the cabinets. As quietly as he could, he pulled the first one open and rummaged through the papers inside. But all the cabinet had to offer were files regarding lessons, programs, and clubs.
Clementine moved on to the next cabinet...and it might be what he was looking for. An alphabet of tags separated a large chunk of documents, and as he flicked through them, each file seemed to have the name of a student on it. Just to make sure, though, he flicked through section C until he found his name...but it wasn't there. However, Carter was, which must mean the files were going off the students' surnames.
He took the file out and opened it, revealing a mugshot of Ian Carter along with a record of his information. Name, age, birthplace, etc. The alliance section of his form read 'Ravenblood', as did his species section. He glanced over the biography and notes sections, but the information wasn't anything he hadn't already learned about Ian. He was hoping there'd be something there to tell him the names of everyone Ian associated with, but why would he get so lucky?
With a quiet sigh, he placed the file back and flicked through to Massimo—Connor. He already knew that particular goon of Ian's was a wolf walker, but he thought he'd glance at his file anyway. And when he did, alongside the mugshots was a photo of what could only be Connor in his wolf form. Despite being tall and lanky as a boy, his wolf form was rather underwhelming. Skinny, rugged, and a large clump of fur was missing from his back. He glanced at his alliance section, which read 'Ravenblood'—of course it did. He wasn't just Ian's friend, was he? He had to be a bodyguard or something. That could be the only reason a non-Ravenblood was aligned with the society.
Rolling his eyes, he put the file back and searched for Radcliff. When he located Horace's file, he opened it and looked over it. Just like Connor, he was a wolf walker aligned with the Ravenblood.
He frowned, staring at Horace's last name. From what he had noticed, all wolf walkers possessed a surname displaying their bloodline—Gibbous Blood, Grey Blood...so why were Connor and Horace's surnames Massimo and Radcliff? They didn't sound like bloodline names. But then again, did it matter?
Stuffing the file back into the cabinet, he flicked through them again. He grabbed a random file, opening it to reveal a girl—cold blood. He grabbed another—wolf walker. And another—seelie. He began to feel frustrated; surely there had to be a single piece of paper that listed each student's name and what they were. Would the professors really want to have to look through every file like this every time they needed to check what one of their students were? Why would that be a struggle for them, though? This was their academy—they had interviewed every student themselves, talked to their parents or carers—those that had those things, anyway. Of course they'd know who and what every kid was without having to doublecheck.
Sighing, he put the form back into the cabinet. For a moment, he stood there...was he really going to have to go through each of these one by one? It might take all night...but...yes, he had to. He needed to know how many Ravenblood were here.
However, as he dragged his thumb along the top of each file, revealing the names, he frowned strangely—Huxley? Had he just seen Huxley? He searched through the H section, and when he found that one file did in fact have the name Huxley on it, curiosity smothered his face. Did Professor Huxley have a kid here?
He reached for the file—but as the floorboards behind him creaked, his heart began to race, he tensed up, and swiftly swung around—
Nothing.
No one.
He was alone.
Setting his eyes back on the file, he started to open it—
The sound of yelling voices broke the silence, echoing from outside. Clementine flinched in startle and dropped the file on the hardwood floor. The slap of the cardboard file bounced off the walls, to his horror, light flickered on under the door to his right—a door he hadn't even noticed was there until now.
In a panic, he snatched the file from the floor, stuffed it back into the cabinet, and bolted for the door. He could hear footsteps behind him voices screaming outside. As fast as he could, he hurried out of the lounge, down the stairs and through the hall.
His heart was racing, his body was trembling—the ceraroot had helped his headache and nausea, but it hadn't done much for his weakening limbs. But he couldn't stop. He wasn't about to get caught, and whatever was happening outside, he didn't want to get wrapped up in that, either.
With his legs beginning to feel like jelly once again, Clementine panted and grimaced. He wasn't sure if he was being chased, but he wasn't going to risk stopping to catch his breath and getting caught. So he kept going—even when the academy gurgled and groaned, becoming freezing once again. The choir of whispers ensnared the darkness, and Clementine could no longer hear the yelling outside.
Someone had just died, hadn't they?
He scurried up the stairs, stumbled into the dormitory hall, and raced over to his door. He huffed, puffed, and trembled; his heart was pounding so hard he felt it might burst through his chest. His hand scrambled around in his pocket for his key, and once he found it, he hastily unlocked his door and rushed inside.
Clementine locked the door behind him and leaned back against it. He tried his best to calm down but staying out in the lounge area might wake Elliot. So, he stumbled over to his room, his jelly-legs shaking. He closed his door behind him...and with a deep, struggled huff, he fell into his bed.
He inhaled...exhaled...inhaled...exhaled.... His racing heart started to calm, and his aching body began to relax. And as he lay there, he glared up at the ceiling. He hadn't got what he'd gone searching for—not really. But he did now know the files existed. Tomorrow night, he could go back and take a look at them again, and perhaps this time, he wouldn't be interrupted.
Sighing, he dragged his hand over his sweaty forehead. He hadn't forgotten what he'd seen, though. A student's file with the name Huxley on it. He wasn't sure why he was so intrigued—maybe it was because the thought of someone as intimidating as Huxley having a child with someone amused him. What must that kid look like?
He deadpanned. That kid would probably look like Mathew. Was it Mathew? Mathew Huxley? He pondered...but it didn't matter...did it? He rolled over onto his side and stared at the wall, his mind now jumping to the next thing. Who had died? He'd heard the chase—the screaming. He'd heard a girl's voice and several boys', but they hadn't sounded like anyone he knew.
Could that be why the academy turned cold, then? Was it actually trapping the souls of those that died here? Everything was pointing to yes, and as he lay there, he wondered...what happened? What must that feel like? And more importantly...why hadn't the academy reacted in such a way when he'd killed Harrison? Was it because he'd buried his body before the academy could react? That seemed possible.
He sighed once more and closed his eyes. If there was anything to make sure he did after he'd killed the Ravenblood, it would be to die away from this place. The last thing he wanted was to be some trapped soul in a school that encouraged kids to kill each other. He didn't know what happened when the students died and became trapped, but he wasn't willing to find out. Those whispers he heard sounded as though they were pleading, crying—they wanted out, and the only time he'd felt the kind of desperation those voices projected was when he'd lost his sister. Pain, suffering, torment. If this place really was trapping those that died, whatever must be on the other side of the veil couldn't be anything near pleasant...and that brought a smile to his face. Soon, Ian and all his Ravenblood friends would join the whispers, and Clementine would die much happier knowing they'd be suffering for eternity.
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