There seemed to be considerably less going on at the school after that fateful day. Ben related to no one his current dilemma, nor did he care to mask that something was in fact bugging him. He knew it was pissing a lot of his friends off, but as it were, misery loved company and Ben was more than happy to spread the oppressive gloom.

In all his angsting, Ben almost forgot to call his parents and tell them about the Thanksgiving dinner, but the neon colored flyers taped to the walls made sure his memory stayed refreshed. His mother had been delighted, and even though his father was supposed to be working on that day, he agreed to come.

This was all very well, but Ben stilled had received no calls from Jessica and he was starting to wonder if Gray even remembered him. Or did Jessica even want to talk to him? Her phone still wasn't on. No news had yet to reach him... he might as well have been ignorant of the attack in the first place for all the information he was getting.

It was only when he began to wonder if Jessica was even alive that he realized the day and how stealthily Thanksgiving had crept up on him.

Ben cursed as he looked for something that wasn't school uniform for the evening. Why was it that holidays always seemed to precede large scale problems? "If this is just Halloween and Thanksgiving, what about Christmas?" he snorted. "Oh, and New Years. That'll be fun."

Ben shoved clothes around in random piles before settling on jeans and a T-shirt. Screw the school if they thought he could be bothered to dress up.

Leaving the dorm in his casual wear, Ben tramped out toward the church, weaving around families as they caught up with each other.

Ben looked up briefly and felt at once lost. The air was awash with the sounds of laughter and talk, of young children crying, and parents complaining. Somewhere in this vast crowd were Ben's parents and he had no idea where to start looking.

Squeezing through two people, Ben peered around in hopes of finding his parents, and was rewarded with the sight of his father's bald head. "Ah!" Ben picked his way through the bodies, making sure to keep his father within sight at specific intervals. "Dad!" he said when he felt he was close enough. "Dad, over here."

"Oh, there you are, Ben!" his father, Seth, said, a smile stretching across his face.

"Ben!" Angie cried, sweeping her son up in a hug, her robe like dress with its wide sleeves wrapping Ben up to her in a tight cocoon. "Oh, you seem so much taller!"

"Oh, and you got a haircut," Seth said, ruffling his son's hair. "Anything else we should know about?" Angie laughed and held Ben at arm's length from herself while he started to retell a clean version of his first three months at the school.

Halfway through it, someone came out, announcing that it was all clear to enter building. There was a general cheer from the younger people and then they were all moving forward, converging into a jumbled mess at the door and filtering through at a snail's pace.

Once inside; however, things were free moving. Ben followed his parents down to one of the long tables that had been set up and sat down across from another family that was quick to introduce themselves.

In no time at all, it seemed, everyone that had been outside was inside, and all the talk gravitated toward the decorating and lighting and theme of the church's rec room. Ben was starting to develop that lost and distant feeling, being up against all these people in their Sunday best, talking with one another so easily.

Turning his attentions around the room, he gathered that they were all waiting for the pastor and dean to give a speech and then bless the food before eating. However, his roving eyes landed on one familiar figure and he perked up at the sight of Matt dogging after a much older woman.

She and Matt seemed to be interacting quite vividly due to the wild arm movements the woman was making and the strange way Matt seemed to absorbing every word she said. He couldn't guess what they were saying, nor could he hear above the din, but he had a feeling the conversation was taking a turn for the worse.

Matt's entire figure seemed to sag at something the woman said and he seemed to withdraw inward, even though his guardian continued with her talk. Ben frowned and turned back around in his seat, wondering if at this point, he should even care. He and Matt weren't friends anymore. Matt's affairs were not his business and vice versa.

Snorting, Ben picked at the table decorations and tried to listen in on the discussion his father was having with the man across from them.

Unfortunately, there was little hope in trying to gather what they were talking about because someone had grabbed a microphone and was tapping on it, an amplified pat rising to the ceiling. Ben turned once again and looked up at Sean, the dean of the school. "Welcome, parents and guardians," he began, "it is so nice to have you with us on this fine evening. I am sure you have all found your child and talked with them, but there will definitely be time during the Thanksgiving dinner our wonderful chefs prepared to continue catching up..."

The dean didn't waste a lot of time with his speech, but he was sure to note that they would have a former student as a guest speaker followed by the pastor giving the blessing, and then they would get right down to eating.

Once it was made sure the guest speaker had arrived, Sean announced that the former student, who had graduated valedictorian and achieved various other honors that Ben couldn't help but roll his eyes at, was University of Pittsburgh freshman, Gray Yunez.

Ben was taken aback as he watched Jessica's brother came loping forward, looking suddenly a lot nicer with an actual smile on his face rather than that derisive smirk. In fact, under this lighting, Gray looked like an entirely different person, and it kind of put Ben off.

Still, he listened to Gray's humourous, short speech, then bowed his head with the rest for the blessing, and finally they were allowed to eat. "Hey, Mom," Ben said, brushing his fingertips against his mother's elbow. She looked up from the array of succulent dishes. "I'm going to go talk with Gray for a bit. Do you mind?"

"Oh, are you friends with him?" she said, her eyes widening. "He's such a handsome young man! Does he have a girlfriend, yet?"

Ben cleared his throat as he remembered what Matt had told him. "Eh, no," he said instead. "Not that I know of."

"Well I just bet women fall into his lap left and right," Angie said, waving her fork and turning back to the food. "It's alright. I'll tell your father where you are."

"Cool. Thanks, Mom." Angie smiled up at briefly before Ben eased out of the line and headed down to where Gray was sitting in a semi-circle with some seniors, laughing at something. "Hey, Gray!" Ben said, loud enough to catch the other's attention.

"Oh, uh..." Gray sat, a funny expression on his face as he searched his memory. Ben wondered if he should let Gray squirm, but then: "Ah, Benjamin! Right?"

"Yeah," Ben said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I just wanted to know-"

"Oh yeah, you're my little sister's lover boy," Gray said, setting his drink down, then standing. "Yes, you want to see her. Yes, she's here. Y-"

"She's here?!" Ben nearly cried out. "Where? I don't see her?" Ben began to look around just in case, trying to search out Jessica's face in the vast congregation.

"Follow me, Ben... jamin," Gray chuckled, grasping Ben by the upper arm and pulling him away from the hustle of the room. Gray led them out one of the exits and back into the fast approaching night. "Over this way," Gray said, ushering Ben down the sidewalk, onto the parking lot, and down through the rows of cars.

There was a rustle and a sigh as Gray took out a small device attached to his keys. He pressed a button and the minivan in front of them winked into life. "She's so mopey, you know?" Gray said, grasping the handle of the sliding door. "She won't even leave the car."

Ben said nothing, just waited patiently as Gray slid the door back and peeked his head. "Jessica," he heard Gray coo. "Are you awake?" There was a muffle and Ben inched closer. "Wake up, cripple! You've got a visitor."

"I told you not to call me that, Gray!" came Jessica's distinct whine. Gray pulled his head back, a playful smile making him look just a little impish. If Ben didn't know any better, he would have suspected himself to be looking at an older, more stable minded version of Matthew.

And that was just a bit frightening.

Blinking a couple of times, Ben raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well," Gray said. "Since I don't trust you around my helpless, defenseless little sister," Ben didn't know if the heat spreading to his face was from anger or embarrassment, "I don't want you sitting in any of the seats. You can sit on the edge right here," Gray indicated the base of the car floor, "but that's as far as you go. Disappointing, huh?"

Ben tried to crack a smile, but it felt more like a sneer. "I hear you."

"You're a lot smarter than Jessica's previous boyfriends. Good job, kid. Alright, I'll stop messing with ya. Talk to your pigeonpoo and shut the door when you're done catching up." With that, Gray turned on his heel and walked off at a leisurely pace.

Sneering openly at his back, Ben turned to the open car door and sidled up in front of it, then peered inside its dark depths. "Jess?"

"Ben?" There was a rustle and then Jessica's head appeared over the seats. "Oh my goodness! I knew I heard your voice! Oh my God! Ben, I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too, Jess," Ben said, his earlier feelings disappearing at seeing her face. "Mind if I open up the back? So we can talk?"

"Yes!" Jessica said. "Hurry, hurry!" Ben walked around the car and started to open the back, but realized then and there that in all his haste to see Jessica, he had not abandoned his plate of food.

"Ah well, I'll share the holiday cheer." Opening the back with one hand, Ben was greeted by Jessica's squeal of excitement on the other side. "Jessica, are you crying?!"

"I'm just so happy you're here," she said, reaching out toward him. Ben set the plate down before hopping up next to Jessica and wrapping her into a hug. "You don't even know the hell I've been through, and it's like my family blames me for it. I've just wanted to be alone for so long..."

"It's alright, Jess," Ben said, stroking her back. "You're okay. Do you want anything to eat?" He pulled back just long enough to indicate the plate, but Jessica shook her head.

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"You know I wanted to come see you, right?"

Jessica sniffed and started to pull back. "Yeah," she said, rubbing at her eyes, and Ben finally got a good look at her face. "What?" she said to his horrified staring. Ben started to shake his head and look away, but Jessica laughed. "Yeah, my face is pretty bad, huh?"

"Maybe bad is an understatement, Jess," Ben said, wincing as he traced the bruising that spread across Jessica's face. It was most prominent at the top of the bridge of her nose and also at the very base of her nose where it curved into her sloping forehead. The greenish black destruction then spread from these focal points, reaching out across her eyes and crawling up her forehead.

It was almost like a giant disfiguring birthmark on her face.

"At least my nose is good. I mean, it'll heal kind of off, but I least I can still breathe!"

"Yeah, that is good," Ben said, reaching up to stroke the side of her face. Her hair, once so lustrous, was dull in the streetlights. "Jessica, what exactly happened to you? Do you remember anything at all?"

Jessica swallowed hard and started to look around helplessly before raising her eyes to his. "Ben, I... can you please not know for now?"

"And why not?" he said, a flare of heat going through him at this selfish act of heroism. "Do I mean nothing to you? Is that why you won't tell me?"

"No!" Jessica said, looking away again. "I-I'm scared, Ben..."

"Don't be," he said, grasping her good hand and squeezing it. "I'm here this time. I'll protect you."

"No, I'm scared of what... you'll do," she whispered, barely looking at him from under her lashes. "If I told you... I just know you'd do something reckless!" Jessica's eyes were shining, brimming with tears. "I love it that you care, I really do, but I don't want you getting charged with like, manslaughter or something."

Ben threw back his head and laughed and Jessica tried to laugh with him, but her eyes were serious and flat. "Jess," Ben said. "Sure I'd get back at the bastard who hurt you, but I'd never kill them."

"Yes, you would, Ben," Jessica said, looking at her cast. "If you knew, you would want to take hack saws to this person's face."

"Jessica, I promise I won't do that," Ben said, leaning forward. "Please, just tell me what happened and who did it and I swear, upon my life, that I will not kill them."

"That's doesn't mean you wouldn't seriously injure them!" she cried. "And what if your hurting them results in them dying? Just-don't ask me anymore!" She covered her ears, but Ben could tell she was bluffing and he pulled her hands away.

"Tell me," he urged. Jessica shook her head and Ben drew closer her. "Tell me or I won't kiss you ever again." Jessica gasped and stared at him. "Tell me, Jessica."

"Ooh!" she said, crossing her arms. "I hate you, Benjamin!"

"No, you don't," he said, smiling. "Tell me."

"Fine," she said, then looked around suspiciously. "Ben, I was tortured."

Ben nodded tightly. When Gray told him about the knee thing, he had suspected as much, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. "Who did it?" he said through clenched teeth.

Jessica's eyes dimmed for a moment before widening at a sudden envisionment of horror. “Matthew.” The name was barely a ghost of a whisper on her lips, but to Ben, it was rolling thunder in his ears.

The words of Hugh flashed through his mind as a huge weight seemed to descend upon him. “...this is not the worst he will do... Matthew may go to great lengths to retrieve what he has lost, regardless of what the means to achieve it will be... His being unsettled this way may result in bad things happening."

Oh, bad things were going to happen, but they definitely weren't going to be coming from Matthew. How dare he! Even though the two weren't friends, and Ben was being to suspect if they even had been in the beginning, that gave Matthew absolutely no right to do something this despicable!

The black sheet of brooding, like a layer of chain mail, wrapped tighter around him, suffocating him, sending heated waves of blood to his head in violent, agonizing patterns.

A moaning, frantic Jessica beside him was ultimately what pulled him back into reality.

"Jessica, it's okay," Ben said, and his voice was amazingly calm. So calm, she stopped berating herself for causing a disaster. "See? Not that bad of a face, huh?"

"Oh, Ben, why would he do that?" she said, the tears spilling from her eyes. "I haven't done a thing and he just... brutally attacked me!"

"I know, Jessica," Ben said, his jaw twitching. "Rest assured, he'll be dealt with."

Jessica smiled and wiped her tears away rather quick. "Oh, good. Just make sure you don't kill him, Ben. Sometimes the greatest torture of all is letting someone live." Ben raised an eyebrow at her, but Jessica just batted her lashes. "Oh, and don't forget! You owe me a kiss."

***

Matthew wondered just how long his personal black cat was going to follow him around. Ever since that night, his life had started slipping from his fingers. First it had been the guilt, then the police, then the lawsuit and courthouse deal, then his inability to keep up in class.

It was little wonder that Hugh would call Matt up to his office for a conference.

"Good morning, Matthew," Hugh said when Matt walked in.

"Matter of fucking opinion," Matt said, collapsing into the chair.

"This is a new tone development," Hugh said ever so pleasantly, it made Matt grind his teeth.

"Whatever. I'm here, let's talk."

Hugh leaned forward, took a breath, then stood up and let it out. "You've been through quite a lot these past few weeks, Matthew. How have you been taking it?"

"I'm fine," Matt said into his chest.

"That's good," Hugh said, starting to take a slow walk down the length of the office, one arm across his back, the other stroking his chin. "I noticed yesterday, during the dinner, that your sister-Amanda, is it?-came down this time. Any reason for that?"

Matt made a small noise in his throat, slightly startled by the question. Rubbing his mouth, he answered under the cover of his hand.

"I'm sorry," Hugh said, turning to face Matt. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Then maybe you should pay attention!" Matt snapped.

"Of course. My mistake," Hugh amended, laying his hand over his heart. "Would it be too much trouble to repeat what you just said?"

Matt huffed for a few minutes, wishing Hugh would stop playing Mr. Nice Guy. "She came to say she wouldn't be around for Christmas, so she wanted to at least visit once."

Hugh frowned. "Didn't your mother say she was going to come down here for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, she said that last year, too!" Matt snorted. "Amanda said she would make up for it by heading down for Christmas, but I know she won't. She always has work or a date with Isaac. She always promises, she always says she'll find the time, but every single fucking year! There are always cards from Amanda, but no, never Janet. Never mother.

"All she does is stand by and watch, that's all she's good at! She stands there and watches and never does a damn thing! That stupid bitch! I never asked her for anything, just one visit would be nice. Is that too much?! Amanda does it all the time, why can't Janet? Oh, that's right. It's cause she loves her new husband too fucking much to care about the son he screwed up!"

Matt didn't realize he was curled up and grasping at the roots of his hair until he began pulling at them, a scream of frustration drawn from his red, straining neck.

And not a word came from Hugh until Matt was done, gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, eyes wide and shining.

"Matthew," he said and Matt cringed at the noise, his face twisting into a grimace of pain. "Tell me what you are thinking about right now."

"Redemption," he groaned, face still upturned toward the ceiling.

"From what you did to Jessica?" he asked in a soft tone.

"Yes... and for what-" Matt curled up again. "And for what I must do."

Hugh felt a chill go through him. "What you must do? Have you planned it out already?"

"Yes," came the grim reply.

"Does anyone else know about this, Matthew?"

"No."

"Would you like to share it?" Hugh said, going to grab his chair. He wheeled it out from behind his desk and over to Matt. He sat down before the teen. "I'd love to hear about this plan of yours."

"No, no I can't," Matt said, rubbing at his scalp, staring at the carpet. "No one can know yet, not yet."

Hugh placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. "Matthew, have you been making plans about taking your own life?"

There was a long silence. Matt unfolded, his hair sticking up from where he had been gripping it and the rims of his eyes red, but a lopsided grin etched across his face. This didn't make Hugh feel very comfortable at all. "Suicide?" Matt said, his voice a whisper of disbelief. "Do you really think I would sink so low, Hugh? Suicide is for the hopeless, for unfortunate souls like Carin. This," he said, drawing into himself. "This is something so much better."

"How, Matthew?" Hugh said, leaning forward.

"Well I had to do something," Matt said, his voice urgent. "So I thought, why not-"

There was a savage knock at the door.

Hugh wanted to curse aloud, but he simply let out a defeated sigh when Matt's head whipped around at the noise. "Back to square one," Hugh muttered under his breath as he got up to send the visitor away. "Why, hello-"

"I need to speak with Matt," came Ben's voice and Matt sucked in a breath, his heart fluttering like a trapped bird. "He's here, isn't he?"

Hugh looked back and Matt wished he hadn't. "Oh, God," Matt whispered, sick to his stomach. He knew this day would come, but he still wasn't ready. How does one prepare for a beating?

"Would you please come back another time, Ben?" Hugh said, making sure his entire form was blocking the doorway. "I don't think-"

"Wait!" Matt said, standing from the chair and testing his legs. They were surprisingly steady. "I'm coming." With his stomach all turned to water and bladder working in overdrive, Matt approached the door. Ben's neutral expression twisted into one of complete and utter rage for just a second before subsiding behind the carefully constructed mask of neutrality.

Matt pretended he hadn't seen that and forced a weak smile. "Hey, Ben."

"Come on," Ben said, his voice also decidedly neutral. Almost resigning. Matt looked back at Hugh and nodded just barely, then followed Ben down the halls, making sure to stay two steps behind him. There weren't people in the halls, and classes had only just begun...

"Are you skipping class, Ben?" Matt said, incredulous. There was no response, and asking this question only seemed to intensify a tension that had been lying under a thin curtain of calm. Matt screwed his mouth to one side and bowed his head, wishing he had never gotten up this morning.

Ben stalked up to the front door and came within a hair's breadth of simply kicking it open, but instead, pushed it open and held it there, allowing Matt the liberty to cross the threshold before letting out a roar and grabbing the other by the front of his shirt.

Matt seized up, his entire body going rigid as Ben practically tossed him through the air and on to the grass. The air left him in one painful whoosh and he sucked in a breath desperately, only to lose it again when Ben kicked him just under the ribs. Matt grunted, the pain spreading through his ribs and lungs, currents of fire running up and down his torso.

Ben let out another roar, dropped down onto the grass, and began whaling on Matt, punching anywhere Matt's face wasn't protected. It was only when the skin on his knuckles were growing red that Ben stood and pulled Matt to his feet, then punched him square in the face. Matt let out a cry and tried to grab his nose, but Ben punched him again.

"You sick, twisted little motherfucker," Ben growled, kneeing Matt in the groin. Matt groaned and his legs went out from under him, but Ben held him up well enough. "How dare you harm Jessica!" He punched Matt again and there was a krop! sound as Ben's knuckle slammed into Matt's cheekbone. "How dare you take a fucking hammer to her knee!"

Shaking out his hand, Ben threw Matthew to the ground. Ben wished there was a way to make Matt bleed more than he was already, he wished there was a way to physically break him open and watch the blood spew from his arteries. An animal growl passed from between his teeth and he began to kick the downed teen, hoping at least to break one rib.

Reaching down, he lifted Matt up by his hair, forcing Matt to stand on his own. Once the smaller boy had gotten his feet situated under him, Ben slammed his fist up under Matt's chin, throwing Matt back a foot. Matt coughed, rolling to his forearms, and spit out a mouthful of blood.

"That's right, you sadistic bitch," Ben panted, planting his foot on the back of Matt's neck and crushing the other into the grass of the school's yard. "Suffer. I hope you know what you did to Jessica, and I hope you know I don't just hate you, I want you to die. I completely deny you, Matthew. We don't know each other, we never did, and I hope you go to Hell for all the sick shit you've done."

Taking his foot away, Ben rolled Matt over with a rather vicious kick and placed his foot on Matt's chest, then leaned down on that leg. "From here on out, you're going to stay out of my life, got it?"

Matt opened his unswollen eye and peered up at Ben, then spit up blood on the other's face. "Fuck you, Mausley. We're through."

"Good you finally see things my way," Ben said, pulling back and wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand. "And in these situations, I always get the last laugh." With a bit of gentle toeing into position, Ben kicked Matt as hard as he could in the spine. His aim was, fortunately for Matt, a little off, but it was still close enough to leave Matt screwing his face up in agony, no breath left in him to scream as he rolled in the grass.

Ben snorted and at that, the bell rang. Without so much as a passing farewell, Ben left Matt to suffer out the rest of his miserable, and numbered, days.

Matthew wasn't uncommon to having bad days, but this black cat was starting to become an annoyance. After taking what had been coming to him, Matt had pretty much dragged himself to the dormitory where he collapsed onto his bed, bloody and sweaty and out of his mind with pain.

But that had been Thursday.

Today was Wednesday. The second of December.

Such a month was met with even lower temperatures than before, but even this could not cool the coals of hate now flaming within Matt. With Ben cut from the grand scheme of things, Matt realized something fundamentally important.

Benjamin had merely been a pawn in all this.

He had been the reason to start retaliating, the match to the torchwood. Even with Ben removed from the situation, the result was still a raging inferno that would not stop, just as Matt would not stop now that he had been set into motion.

"Next victim," he said to himself, pulling together his implements of ruin and setting it down next to his ladder. "Tomorrow morning, we'll have some fun."

It seemed that December third was going to be Matt's first lucky break in months. After a shower and breakfast, Matt actually indulged in going to all of his classes and sitting through each lesson with a content smile on his face.

His teachers just took it in stride, though he often caught them staring at him from their desks, waiting for something to happen.

As it was, Matt wasn't one to disappoint, but he had a schedule to follow. It was an easy one to keep, seeing as how it coincided with the school schedule.

However, when the final bell rang, and all the students were let out, Matt continued on at a leisurely pace. It would be best to wait a few minutes, give everyone a chance to do get all their things and settle down in to what they had in mind to do on such a chilly Thursday evening.

Matt shivered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and flitted up the stairs to the dormitory, piling in with everyone else. Inside, voices meandered up and down the staircase and flowed out through open doors.

Going into his room, Matthew closed the door and headed straight for Mim's cage. "Hey, Mims," he said, plucking the hamster straight out of the cage. Mims squirmed around in Matt's hand before settling down and trying to climb up his arm.

"Here," he said, setting her on the floor and picking up a medium sized plastic ball. Twisting it open, he retrieved the wandering hamster and put her in one half, then screwed the other half back on. Setting the ball on the ground, Matt watched Mims roll around the room, wondering if she ever got dizzy in there.

"Run around in circles, Mims," he said, watching the hamster make a ungainly circuit around the room, pausing every few seconds to rest. "Keep on running until I get back, okay?"

Getting off his bed, Matt left his room, making sure to close the door so Mims wouldn't accidentally find herself in the hall. With not a thing in hand, Matt headed up the stairs, taking his time as people darted past him or weaved around.

In a matter of minutes he had surpassed the second and third floors, and despite his need to walk as slowly as possible, a bubbly energy started up in Matt's system and he couldn't keep himself from adding a little burst of speed to his step.

Careful to take in his surroundings, Matt looked out for as many open doors as possible and flitted past them, determined not to be identified just yet. Nearing the designated area, Matt was rather disappointed to find the door open.

It probably wouldn't be a good idea to just peek in, especially if someone was inside, so Matt decided for a passing glance. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Matt looked behind him, then slowed down as he started to overtake the room.

Surprisingly, the room was empty. "What? Too easy," Matt said, now taking a few cautious steps into the room. "Hello! Anyone in here?" There was no response and Matt sidled in, looking the room up and down. There was a beanbag on the floor, a few textbooks next to it. "Hmm, not too bad," Matt said, nodding at the bare walls. "Perfect."

With his inspection complete, Matt left the room and headed back downstairs with urgency, not quite sure how much time he would have before whoever had left the door open would return. It was when he found himself on the second floor that Matt ran into the very two people he was starting to consider his enemies.

"Let's get out of here," Aaron said, his dark eyes glittering with something akin to triumph.

"Agreed," Ben said, his fingers tightening around the neck of his guitar.

"Tch!" Matt snorted and started down the stairs while Aaron turned to Ben in surprise.

"Really?" Aaron said as they also continued their short trip, his eyebrows raised. "This is news."

"Yeah, well, you were right," Ben said, switching his guitar to the other hand and flexing his fingers. "Matt is a freak and I should have never gotten tangled up with him."

Aaron smiled, slow and devilish. "Good to see you've finally opened your eyes, Ben. Now we can actually get along."

Ben looked at him and cracked a smile, but it faded fast. He had actually woken up in a good mood today, and then he had seen Matthew... Grinding his teeth, Ben let Aaron kick open the door to Tristan and Kyle's room, where the other three members of the band were sitting and talking.

"Hey!" Triscuit said when Ben had set his guitar aside. "I propose we skip practice and just be lazy today."

"Why?" Aaron said, kicking the beanbag Triscuit was lying in.

"No touching the beanbag, fool," Triscuit said, trying to push Aaron away but giving up after a few feeble shoves.

"Somehow, Triscuit got sick without us noticing," Kyle said, laying spread eagle on his bed. "So, no vocals."

"I suppose I don't count, then," Ben said, pushing Kyle's leg aside so he could sit on the bed.

"You're a back up singer," Tristan said, his lashes dark against his olive skin. "Ugh, I second being lazy. And hungry."

"Worst day ever," Triscuit said.

"Doubt it," Ben countered.

"Fine. Worst day of my life ever." He looked over at Aaron when the blond sat down on the floor beside him. "Er, I wouldn't sit too close. The nurse says I have strep. That's contagious, isn't it?"

"Oh, my God, yes!" Aaron said, scrambling over to where Tristan was dozing off and rubbing his hands. "What else did you touch? Jeez, Triscuit, get out of here!"

"Wow, Triscuit is an idiot," Kyle said and Ben snorted. "Why did you even get out of bed? Did you get treated already?"

"Well, duh," Triscuit said. "Yesterday. But it doesn't matter. All those times I coughed on you guys-"

"Triscuit, I fucking hate you!" Kyle said, throwing his pillow at the dark haired one. "I hope you die next time."

"Aha!" Triscuit said, hugging the pillow as he curled up in the beanbag. "You're all going to get sick and I'm going to laugh in your invalid faces. Now all of you go to sleep or be really quiet." He yawned the last part and then buried his head into the beanbag.

"Asshole took my pillow," Kyle muttered and got up. Ben let out a sigh and draped himself over the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He really didn't feel like sleeping, but the room was silent and there really wasn't anything else to do. Or was there?

Sitting up as silently as possible, Ben stood and picked up his guitar, then sat back down on the bed and pulled out his pick. Strumming the deepest chord, he let it hum for a while before killing it. Even an acoustic would be too loud for how quiet it was.

With that in mind, Ben let his drift to Jessica. She had gone back to school only recently, but already she had more signatures on her cast than there was cast material. Ben considered himself lucky to have signed it first, but it also made him smile that there were so many people out there that cared about Jessica.

I don't know what she was so worried about, he thought, closing his eyes just briefly. Briefly, because seconds later, there was a horrible shout. Sitting up with a gasp, Ben looked toward the window, wondering where the noise had come from.

The shout came again, this time getting closer. What surprised Ben the most at this point was the volume at which the person had to be yelling for him to hear it through the makeshift insulators. Rising from the bed, Ben went up to the door and paused, his hand raised over the doorknob, listening to the person scream and rant.

"Well?" The voice made Ben jump away from the door and turn around. "Well?" Aaron said again, his eyes bright and curious. "Open the door!"

"Oh," Ben said, grabbing the handle and opening the door. He was nearly punched in the face by a fist preparing to pound on the door. "Whoa!" he cried, pulling back.

"Where is he?" the older guy said and his eyes fell upon the groggy Triscuit. "Ashton!" he roared.

"What the hell?!" Triscuit cried, his eyes going wide. "I told you not-"

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want," the angry intruder said. "Get your ass up and tell me why the fuck you suddenly wanted to redecorate your side of the room!"

"Re..." Triscuit sat there, looking confused and just a bit disturbed. "What do you mean, redecorate?"

The senior stared at Triscuit. "Then who the hell got in our room?"

"Shit," Triscuit said, throwing the pillow aside and scrambling to his feet. "I need to see this."

"Wait a minute, buddy," the senior said, grabbing Triscuit by the back of his shirt. "I want you to get the dean."

"Like hell I will!" Triscuit said, wrestling out of the grip on his shirt. "You said it was my side of the room, Ian. I have a right to see it!" Triscuit turned to the other occupants of the room and Ben had never seen him so... frightened. "None of you follow me."

Then, he was gone, leaving the others to stare at one another in wondrous silence. Except for Ian. Ian muttered something about taking care of melodramatic brats before stomping off.

"Are we really not going to follow him?" Ben said, looking from Aaron to Kyle.

"Hell no," Aaron said, pulling himself up. "I want to know what's going on as well." Shoving past Ben, Aaron headed for the stairs, closely followed by Ben, and then a rather reluctant Kyle. Left behind, Tristan continued to snooze.

"What do you think that Ian guy meant by redecorate?" Ben asked.

"I'm having an idea," Aaron said, "but I don't want to think on it." The trio mounted the last set of stairs before coming upon the fourth floor. A few people were actually milling around, puzzled expressions on their faces as they all drifted to a common point.

Aaron motioned to follow him and he led the three around the corner and down the hall to an open door that the accumulating crowd refused to get within three feet of. Instead, the formed an uncertain walls on either side of the door and murmured to one another.

Slicing through the crowd like it was water, Aaron marched up to the door and stuck his head in. "Fucking shit," he whispered, staring wide eyed at the ruin just at his feet. "Tris-"

Triscuit whirled around, his eyes wide, but blazing. "Didn't I tell you not to follow me?" he said, advancing upon Aaron and shoving the larger teen in the chest. "Get out of here!" he shouted at all the people standing around.

"Ash, wait a minute!" Kyle said, extracting himself from the crowd, but Triscuit slammed the door in his face.

"And stop fucking calling me that!" he yelled at the closed door, then kicked it. "Oh my God!" he said, gripping at his hair and turning back to the bright red dashes all about the walls, on his bed, on just about everything he owned. His pillow had been ripped open, and his beanbag slashed to bits. Papers were thrown all over the place, drenched in paint. Hand prints, dragging across the walls like spirits come back, were everywhere, and Triscuit crouched to the ground. "Who the hell would have done this?" he whispered, picking up a limp sheet of paper with shaking hands. "And why?"

The floor creaked and Triscuit whirled around, fully expecting to encounter some sort of ghost. Instead, lights exploded behind his eyes and he hit the ground, unconscious.

***

Matt tossed the frying pan on Ashton's bed, its purpose served, then went back to the closet and pulled out his studded belt. The studs were fake and not as sharp as he would have liked them to be, but Matt was little concerned about that. Feeding the belt strap through the buckle, Matt pulled it tight until the buckle was held firmly in place at the end, a dead weight.

"Wake up, Ashton," Matt said and drew his arm back. Swinging hard and fast, he felt the impact against Ashton's arm and jumped at the gasp of agony that came from the felled teen as he was jerked back into consciousness. "Good," Matt said, starting to feel his malicious intent sink back in, removing the shock. "Now beg, bitch!"

Another hit, this time on the ribs. The exact pain must have been enough to pull Ashton out of his groggy state, for he let out a cry with renewed strength and opened his eyes, staring at Matt. "Wha-How the hell did you get in here?" Ashton said, holding his injured side.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Matt sneered, then lashed out again, the looped buckle striking Ashton on the face. Ashton let out a wail and drew his face inward, covering it with his hands. Matt walked up to him, got a shorter grip on the belt, and proceeded to beat the living daylights out of Ashton.

The fire within him burned, larger and larger the more he whipped his victim into submission. It felt so good, so fucking good to finally see someone else in his position, suffering at his hands. He was more powerful that this sniveling piece of snot, how much easier would it be to taken on someone like Aaron?

Matt let out a furious noise and began to kick Ashton in the chest, the boy slowly inching across the floor with the force of each kick. Aaron. He could kill Aaron easy. He was on top of the world right now, Aaron was nothing compared to the things Matt was capable of.

That's right, the voice cooed. Aaron is just a frightened human child. But you, Matthew, you are a god. Look at how this one bleeds, how he cowers. Aaron can also do these things and more. Don't be afraid.

"I'm not afraid," Matt said, drawing away from Ashton, glad that his shoes were all black so he didn't have to see the blood on them. "I'm not afraid of anyone! No one!"

Not even Isaac?

"Not even Isaac," Matt growled, the muscles standing out on his neck as he marched back to the closet and snatched the bucket of red paint up. "I'll kill them all, I'll color them all red like this." Matt tipped the bucket over Ashton, drenching his hair, letting it slather his clothes, then throwing the bucket under the bed. Snatching up his frying pan, Matt kicked Ashton in the groin on his way to the closet, letting out a cackle of amusement as Ashton gasped and coughed and struggled to stay awake.

Dumping his equipment into the bag, Matt tied it off, then pulled out from the closet his ladder. Shutting the door behind him, Matt went up to the window, threw it open, and let the sixty foot collapsible ladder straighten out. "Good bye, Ashton." With the bag held tight in his teeth, Matt swung out onto the ladder and closed the window, then started his descent to the ground.

By the time the dean had arrived and forced open the the door, Matt was long gone and everyone could only stare and oogle at the unusual circumstances.

***

"Fuck, fuck," Matt said, slamming the door open. It resisted for just a second, but then hit the wall with a teeth rattling force. "Mims, where are you?" he demanded of the hamster as he closed the door, stowing the ladder away under his bed and check it at the same time. The plastic ball was not there. "Mims!" he said, the bag of equipment dropping to the floor with a clang.

He knew the hamster could not have chewed her way through the ball in such a short amount of time, and so he dropped to his hands and knees and searched under the dresser, in the closet, then began to uproot the junk on his floor, hoping that she hadn't gotten stuck.

But Mims was nowhere to be found. Frantic, Matt held his head in one hand. Where hadn't he checked? "Ah, behind the door!"

Whirling around, Matt was ready to grab his hamster and put her back in her cage, but the sight before his eyes sent his heart plummeting into his stomach. "No," he whispered, staring at the broken yellow pieces of the ball. Their sharp edges and even deadlier points seemed to smile at Matt, laugh at him, for it was on of these pointed, plastic objects that had ultimately ended Mims's life.

Matt stared at the hamster, trying not to look at the yellow piece of plastic jabbed just behind her head, or the blood blossoming from her nose. "Mims," he whimpered, trying to think how this could have happened. Who would kill his beloved hamster?

Then it hit him like cold water. Just a few minutes ago, when he had come barging in. The door had experienced some resistance... Matt could almost imagine Mims's terror as her plastic bubble imploded on her, a piece of her world going straight through her throat.

"Oh, God, I killed you!" he said, picking the tiny, lifeless body up. He tiny pale legs were stiff outward, as though in mid-run. "Mims..." He panted, the previous anger a ringing in his ears, fading in and out. "What does this mean, now?"

It means you are ready, boy, the voice, sounding urgent and breathless and triumphant. Matt didn't know why this made him uncomfortable, but it did. You are ready to take another life.

Thanks reviewers and readers! If you're still around... XD

Velvet.