by Tim O'Rourke
I had seen a lot of crazy stuff in my life, but this story seemed
too strange to believe. The class as usual was in silence, there hadn’t been much work set for us. I guessed it was art class or something, because on each desk had been placed a jug of cloudy water with paintbrushes. It almost felt like we were killing time until we were either chosen by McCain for matching or we were set free. The class had been sitting quietly. As I spied around the room, I could see that some weren’t painting at all, but just staring into space like freaking zombies, while others sat and painted pictures.
Dorsey was sitting in front of me. I peered over his shoulder and could see that he was painting a picture. I couldn’t see what it was, but his small, narrow shoulders were slumped forward, his burnt face almost touching the paper in front of him.
Sister Margaret continued to sit at the front of the class, with a book open, but facing down in her lap. Her head was bent forward with her hood concealing her face, and all the while she just rocked slowly back and forth in her chair. I thought of the conversation that I’d had with Kiera, Potter, and Isidor the night before and knew that I had to find a way of sneaking out of the school and hiding the camera.
Dorsey suddenly stood up and went to the front of the class. He stopped at the sink and filled a jug with water. It was then I noticed Pryor. He was sitting next to two other boys. The three of them looked pale and gaunt, as if they hadn’t seen daylight for a while. The last time I’d seen Pryor, he was being dragged across the schoolyard by Brother Michael on his way to the Rat-House. By the look of the two emaciated-looking identical twins sitting on either side of Pryor, I guessed that they were the Addison twins that McCain had mentioned. By the look of them, their time spent in the Rat-House hadn’t been great. They looked dirty, scruffy, and haunted.
I watched Pryor lean over and nudge one of the Addison brothers. The twin began to snigger and he turned to his brother and laughed. His twin winked back at him.Dorsey made his way back from the sink holding the jug of water and some paintbrushes. As he approached Sister Margaret, Pryor stuck his leg out and sent Dorsey pin-wheeling through the air. The jug he was holding flew from his hand and I watched as it spun towards Sister Margaret. It crashed into her left shoulder and shattered on impact, as if it had just been thrown into a brick wall. Water sprayed everywhere, covering Sister Margaret’s head and chest.
For a moment she didn’t move, she didn’t even flinch, as if she had been totally unaware of what had just happened. Sister Margaret continued to sit, rocking back and forth several more times until she suddenly stopped. The class sat in silence as we stared at her. Dorsey got to his feet and began to brush himself off with his burnt and twisted fingers. Sister Margaret slowly rose out of her chair and loomed over Dorsey. For what seemed like the longest time, she just stood there, completely motionless. Then, without warning, her tongue rolled from between her lips like a fat, grey worm and she licked the water from her chin. Once she had soaked up every drop, her tongue crawled back into her mouth. She then raised one of her arms and pointed at Dorsey. Then as quickly as she had raised her arm, she lowered it and then freaked out.
She darted across the room, colliding with chairs and tables, until she reached one of the Addisons’ desks. Here, she snatched up his jug of dirty paint water, which he’d cleaned his brushes in, and raising it to her mouth she gulped down the lot. Thick coloured water spilled from the corners of her mouth and dribbled off her chin. She threw the empty jug onto the floor where it smashed into tiny pieces. Sister Margaret then headed towards another kid’s desk. Here she took hold of his glass of dirty water and hurriedly swilled it down. As she drank, I could hear the revolting sound of her slurping and choking as it washed down her throat.
Chucking the empty glass to the floor, she was off again and heading straight for me. She took hold of my paint jug in her grey hands, tilted her head back on her neck, opened her mouth wide and poured the muddy-looking water in. She spluttered and coughed as water appeared around the creases of her mouth in tiny bubbles. Once the water had gone, she sighed as if her thirst had at last been quenched. Sister Margaret then let out the longest and loudest belch I had ever heard, wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her robe, turned and left the room. As she disappeared into the depths of the school, I heard her start to scream.
The class remained silent. I glanced at Sam.
“I told you,” he whispered.
It was so still and quiet that I could hear the racing heartbeats of those that sat nearby. The silence was broken as Pryor jumped up, knocking his chair flying. He grabbed hold of Dorsey with one meaty hand and with his other he scooped up a paintbrush and dangled it in front of Dorsey’s face.
Dorsey flinched away, but he wasn’t quick enough and Pryor began to daub his face with paint.
“There you go! You look a lot better already. Let’s cover up those hideous burns,” Pryor teased.
Some of the others in the class began to laugh and jeer at Dorsey, as he was humiliated in front of us.
Although it wasn’t me who was being bullied, I felt for him and was furious inside. The feelings I’d had the day Pryor had attacked Dorsey in the yard came flooding back. I had wimped out that time and I’d felt ashamed ever since. Those memories of how I’d been tormented came flooding back and I felt sick for Dorsey.
“Let’s see if I can’t make you look more human,” Pryor jeered, lurching forward with the paint brush again. Dorsey made a whimpering sound as he cowered before Pryor.
I felt rage explode inside of me like a bomb going off in a confined space. Then, before I even realised what I was doing, I leapt at Pryor, swinging my clenched fists at him.
“Leave him alone, you fucking arsehole!” I screamed.
Pryor looked up, saw me, ducked out of my way and as I shot past him, he punched me around the back of my head. Sam had been right, Pryor didn’t give a shit that I was a girl. He would beat up on anyone weaker than him, or so he thought. I lost my footing and clattered heavily into a table, sprawling it and myself across the floor. With my head throbbing from where he had struck me, I scrambled to my feet and launched myself at him again.
“Pick on someone your own size!” I roared at him. Then, all of a sudden, I felt a hand grip my shoulder and yank me backwards. I tried to whirl around to see who had taken hold of me, when I realised that it was Sam.
“Leave it, Kayla. He’s not worth it!” he shouted at me.
“Come on!” Pryor taunted me, his huge fists swinging before him.
I wanted to break free from Sam. I wanted to hurt Pryor, like he had hurt Dorsey, like I had been hurt before.
“Leave it, Kayla. Leave it!” Sam warned me.
I turned to face him. He looked me in the eyes and I could feel myself shaking with rage. I just wanted to rip Pryor’s fucking head clean off. I knew that I could do it, too. In a blink of an eye, his head would be spinning from his shoulders, and I would be on him, sucking the warm blood from his twitching corpse. But if I did that, the pleasure – satisfaction – would be short-lived. Everyone would know that I wasn’t really one of them – human. However angry I felt, I had to stay focused on the real reason I was at Ravenwood and that was to discover what had happened to Emily Clarke. I wouldn’t be able to do that from the Rat-House or worse.
“There’ll be another time, I promise,” Sam said, his crystal blue eyes looking into mine. I looked away and glared at Pryor.
“Chickenshit,” he said, then laughed and picked up his chair.
Suddenly the door was thrown open and McCain came bursting into the classroom. His lips were drawn tight, looking as if someone had just run a purple coloured marker pen across his face. McCain marched to the front of the class and screamed at us.
“Get yourselves in the courtyard right now!”
On his command, the class began to slowly exit the room in single file and I followed.
“Move it! Move it! Move it!” He wailed, his voice shrill and annoying.
> We quickened our step, our heads down and fearing the worst. On reaching the courtyard, we stood in line and waited for McCain.
“I promise if any of you grass on me, I’ll rip your fucking heads off!” Pryor threatened the rest of us.
“But…” one of the Addison twins began.
“Shut the fuck up!” Pryor spat as he stepped out of line. He jabbed Addison in the face with his fist to illustrate what would happen if we so much as breathed a word. Addison placed his hand over his lip, which had already begun to swell and I could see a trickle of blood ooze through his fingers. My stomach somersaulted and I clenched my fists. Sam must have seen me do this, as he placed his hand on my arm as a warning that this was not the right time to get into a fight with Pryor.
The door to the courtyard was thrown open and McCain came striding out across it, Taser – sizzle stick – in hand. His emaciated face shone an angry crimson. I half expected it to explode right there and then on top of his neck, sparing us the beating we were all expecting. He paced furiously back and forth before us like a caged beast.
“Which one of you idiots is responsible for throwing water over Sister Margaret?” He seethed, trying to keep his obvious anger under control.
We all remained silent.
“Who was it?” his voice barely a whisper, as if his anger was fighting its way up his throat, causing him to lose his voice.
Again we remained silent.
“Answer me, goddamnit!” he screamed.
Dorsey visibly flinched beside me on hearing his screeching voice. We continued to remain silent, stupidly refusing to give up Pryor’s secret.
“Right, seeing as not one of you has the moral decency to own up, I take it then that it was a team effort?” he asked, his anger reined in momentarily, but still bubbling under the surface.
Silence.
“If that’s the way you want to play this unfortunate game, then so be it. Each and every one of you will be sent to the Rat-House.”
On hearing McCain’s threat, I immediately felt sick with fear. Not for myself, but for Dorsey.I couldn’t stand back and watch him being punished for something Pryor had done. Dorsey had put up with enough from Pryor and his friends. I could see that he was frail and at a breaking point.
So I stepped forward out of line and said, “It was me. I did it.”
McCain looked at me, “Well, well, well!” he said as if swallowing a mouthful of bile. “Hunt, come here.” He pointed to a spot on the floor within a couple of feet of him. I moved towards it.
“Do you have any idea of the consequences of your actions?” McCain roared at me, his anger now completely unleashed and uncontrollable. “Do you even care?”
I said nothing and stared at him.
“Answer me!” He screeched.
His eyes glowed yellow and spun in their sunken sockets. I knew it didn’t matter what I said – what excuses I gave – the outcome was inevitable, he was still going to send me to the Rat-House. As I stared back at him, all I could think of was what Potter might say if face to face with McCain. Then, by accident and without thinking, I said, “Let’s get this over with shall we, McCain?”
On hearing my remark, some of the other kids began to snigger and McCain’s head turned a darker shade of crimson. I was convinced I saw his head actually swell in size, and I wondered if it might just go bang! right in front of me. A deep greeny-blue vein appeared in the centre of his forehead and began to pulsate like a deformed heart.
“Goddamnyou!” he cried one last time as he gripped me by the arm and shoved me across the courtyard and back into the school. As he led me away, I turned and looked at Sam. He looked scared for me. I then caught sight of Pryor who smirked.
I mouthed the word coward at him, then looked away.
McCain dug his fingers deeply into my flesh.But instead of taking me to the Rat-House like he had threatened, McCain forced me through the winding corridors and up the stairs to my room. Pushing me against the door, he shoved me inside. He closed the door behind him, and stood looking at me.
“There is something different about you,” he whispered, taking a step closer towards me.
“I’m not sure what you mean?” I said, pulling my blazer tight about me. I wasn’t scared of him hurting me, I was scared that he might realise that I was different – different from the others at the school.
He came closer still, so he was brushing up against me. Then, leaning over me, he rested his cheek against mine. I flinched away at his touch. McCain pressed the tip of his nose into my cheek. It felt wet, like a dog’s. I thought of how he had sniffed at the bloodstains on Emily Clarke’s bedroom wall and I felt sick.
“Who are you?” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my cheek. “What are you?”
“I’m Kayla Hunt,” I said. “I’m human.”
“You don’t smell like any human I’ve smelt before,” he sighed,
as if he was actually getting a thrill out of sniffing me. The urge to kick his arse was unbearable.
“I thought I was going to the Rat-House?” I asked him, as he ran his nose through my hair.
“No, no, no,” he breathed. “There is something about you.”
“What?” I asked, closing my eyes, not knowing for how much longer I could bear his touch.
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice now sounding soft – dreamlike – as if he was being intoxicated by my smell. “You have courage. You’re fearless and have an anger that I admire. I’ve never tried to match someone like you before.” McCain pulled back from me, his yellow eyes glazed-looking. He stared at me. Then, taking his nasal spray from his trouser pocket, he shoved it into each nostril and breathed deeply.
“You’ll stay where I can keep an eye on you, Kayla Hunt,” he said. “You interest me. I’m not sure, but I might have the perfect match for you.”
“And who is that?” I asked him.
McCain went to my bedroom door, opened it and looked back at me. “She’s very special. I shall be telling the Wolf Man all about you.”
Then, without another word, he slipped from my room and closed the door. With a huge sigh, I collapsed onto my bed. I needed to get that camera to Isidor and quick. Hopefully the camera held all the evidence that we would need to nail McCain and I could get out of Ravenwood before he got this special wolf to match with me.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kayla
Lying alone in my room, I knew that I wouldn’t get a better opportunity to try and sneak from the school grounds and leave the camera on the other side of the wall for Isidor to find later. The rest of the kids were in lessons along with most of the teachers. All I had to do was get across the main grassy area in front of the school, to the cover of the trees that grew against the wall circling the school grounds.
I took the camera from my bag which was hidden beneath my wardrobe and tucked it inside the pocket of my blazer. The camera was small, and the front of my blazer didn’t stick out too much. I placed my iPod in my trouser pocket, planning on taking a picture of the place where I finally hid the camera, which I could then send to Kiera to help Isidor locate it.
The corridor was quiet and empty, so closing my bedroom door behind me, I snuck from my room. I made it with no problem down the winding staircase. I listened intently for any noise that might suggest that a Grey was nearby or that I was being followed. Like I had hoped, the corridors and passageways were empty and only twice did I have to hide in the shadows of a nearby stairwell or doorway as a Grey shuffled past me. Before long, I began to feel disorientated and wished that I had Sam to show me the way. But I wouldn’t have been able to take him with me as he would’ve wondered why I was placing the camera outside of the school grounds. I couldn’t tell him about the others – just in case.
In case of what? I wondered. Sam seemed like a good guy and I hoped that I could trust him. After all, he had risked everything last night leading me to Emily Clarke’s room. But I had trusted a man before and I’d ended up dead. So
just for now, I would go on alone.
I reached a side door that led out into the grounds of the school. Crouching in the shadows, I looked left and right to make sure no one was around. When I was sure that I wasn’t being watched, I made my way as quickly as possible across the grassy area to the trees. I’d only got about halfway, when I heard someone call my name.
“Hey, Kayla!”
Hearing my name being shouted, I froze just like the statue I had seen in the forbidden wing back at Hallowed Manor. I turned around to see Sam trotting across the lawn towards me.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Nowhere,” I lied, feeling flustered. “I’m just going for a walk.”
“I thought you’d be in the Rat-House by now,” he said with a look of concern on his face.
“And I thought you’d be back in class by now,” I said back, annoyed that he had seen me.
“McCain gave us the rest of the morning off,” he explained. “Hasn’t got a replacement Grey.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Do you want some company?” he asked me.
“I’d rather be alone,” I smiled, hoping I didn’t hurt his feelings. Sam had been a good friend to me since arriving at Ravenwood.
“Don’t be like that,” he half-smiled. “I’ve got nothing to do. Let me hang with you. Stuff always happens when I’m with you.”
“What sort of stuff?” I frowned.
“Crazy stuff,” he smiled. Then, he was heading away towards the trees.
I followed him until we were hidden by the crop of trees that stretched away from the school building.
“So how come McCain didn’t chuck you into the Rat-house?” he asked me, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. It was cold amongst the trees.
“He said he thought there was something different about me,” I explained.
“See, didn’t I say you weren’t like any other girl that I’d ever met?” he smiled, eyes twinkling.
“He said that he wants to match me with some wolf,” I told him. “Apparently this wolf is kinda special. You wouldn’t know what he is talking about, would you?”