'I have to get the Book back. I can't let Him see the List.' The teacher raced through the halls, her heart thumping in her ears. How had He even gotten the Book? What was He going to do with it? Where was He hiding it? The Book would be somewhere close to Him, somewhere most people wouldn't have access to...
A shadow moved beside her and she spun around, ready for a fight. A slender man stood, eminating a coolness that filled the hall around them. "Mrs. Mackenzie," He said softly, "I see Gibson is still using you to do his dirty work." The man smirked as He came closer to her. She looked around desperately, her heart speeding up. She had nothing to use as a weapon, and there was nowhere to run to. He knew what she was after. She would have to stand and fight; that was all she could do.
"You're going to die on your feet... How noble." The man's smirk grew as He lifted his cane and charged the woman. She leapt nimbly to the side and stuck her foot out. The man went sprawling, His cane clattering across the tiled floors. Mrs. Mackenzie saw her chance and took off running toward the front office. She knew He was coming; she could hear His heavy steps but He wasn't running. He knew she couldn't get away, didn't He? Didn't she? Biting her lip, she ran down the hall toward the office. She tried the door- locked, which she should have known. He wouldn't have let His guard down enough for that.
"Are you ready to give up, Mrs. Mackenzie?" She spun around as the low voice hit her like a wave of frigid air. A shiver went up her spine as she met His cold, grey eyes. His smirk was gone, a small smile replacing it. "You have thrice defied me," He began softly, "This is your last chance. Think wisely on what you're about to do." She didn't think though; instinctively, she grabbed the clipboard from the tray beside the door and flung it at His head. Without a flicker of surprise, he ducked and rammed his cane into her stomach. The impact knocked her heavily against the office door, which flew open and spilled her into the room.
Wincing in pain, she attempted to climb to her feet. The Book was close; she could feel it, but there was no way she was getting past Him. He was too strong, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to fight. It was her duty to at least try to save them from Michael's mistake. She hoped he could hear her. 'Yes, Michael, you made a mistake, which is something everyone does, but your mistakes get people killed.' She knew she going to die; it was just a question of when at this point.
The shadow slid into the room, followed by its owner. The man smiled as He watched her try to pull herself to her feet. The blow had cracked a couple of her ribs; she could feel them grating against each other as she raised herself to one foot, kneeling before Him. He seemed to like that, His smile growing as He moved further into the room. Using one foot, He pushed her back down, His face placid. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't stop it. The pain was growing worse, and she was barely hanging on to consciousness.
"Not this time, Mrs. Mackenzie," He said softly, "You're finished." Without another word, he raised his cane and drove it into her back. She felt the metal tip pierce her spine, and then nothing. Coldness stole over her petite frame as she silently begged for him to end it. The pain was gone, but that made it worse, made it much more real. The sudden absence of of the blinding pain that was driving her toward unconsciousness left her mind reeling but fully functional. The metal tip paralyzing her, all she could do was stare at the floor and wish for death.
The man was more than happy to oblige her last wish. Pulling the cane out of her back, He raised it again and brought it down hard, driving it straight through her heart. He heard her erratic heartbeat begin to fade away and raised the cane one last time. It made a sickening thud when it connected with her head, but the sound brought a satisfied smile to His lips.
Leaving the cane where it lay, he turned, slipped His hands into His pockets, and set off down the hall, whistling softly. The door swung shut behind him, moonlight illuminating the single word on the door: Headmaster.