I recently looked over this chapter after being prompted by a friend, and nearly cried and even thought about burying myself in a hole in which to last out the rest of eternity.

Instead I just edited it. Here you are.

I sat on the loveseat, adjusting my tie and dusting off my dress pants. I was one of the few gyurens who worked here, and was definitely the biggest, in more ways than one. Renowned for my manliness by the patrons of this establishment, I took pride in my appearance, from the starched perfection of my clothing, to the way I held my spine entirely erect, laying my hands purposefully on the knee of my folded legs. My trademark smirk hovered on my lips as I awaited the opening of the door, my very composure exuding seduction and a particular practiced intimidation that I refused to let drop, even for this special client.

The doorknob twisted, and the corner of my mouth twisted up slightly as the door opened, and a shy young blonde peeped in. I grinned, and the human girl swallowed, stepping through the door and closing it softly behind her.

This customer had apparently been rather nervous when she had first come through the front office to make an appointment, so I'd been sent to the Virgin Room to have our time. Before I'd headed over, Mrs. Hemner had even mildly suggested that the girl might not be interested in sex. As the girl, her eyes riveted to mine, dared come nearer, I stood up in silent welcome, allowing the young thing to be shaken by my impressive six feet and four inches of height, broad shoulders, and sheer confidence. I took her small hand, causing her to blush profusely even as she allowed me to lead her to the beige loveseat and sit her down. Oh, please. Even young, scared little girls only came here for one thing.

The Virgin Room was the biggest room our whore-house contained. There was the smaller room which consisted of the love seat, and a little coffee table for tea. That's where we were supposed to get our customers comfortable with kissing, maybe even a little bit of touching. Usually the clothes stayed on in there for the most part, or so I'd been told by the rest of the crew, since this was my first time with a virgin. Yet, set into a wall opposite of the loveseat, there was a small screen that, once opened, led to the rest of the room which contained a large bed, where the deed was supposed to be done. All courtesy of our manager. Apparently she thought even losing your virginity to a prostitute should be special. There was even a bathroom, for the more uncertain guests.

I smirked. The girl was trembling, scuffing her tennis-shoes together. She had a pretty little blouse on, ruffled and polka-dotted, with elastic underneath her breasts to accentuate their shape. Her jeans were skin tight. I grinned, imagining how I would thoroughly enjoy stripping those off her, watching her face blush with nervousness. What a breath of fresh air from the middle-aged and overweight women that filled up my hours. And a virgin, at that.

"How are you this evening?" I asked her, looking up from where I had been openly ogling her full breasts to sit beside her on the loveseat. Usually I would have just scooped her up and thrown her down on the floor before ravaging her, but I was planning on having more fun than that with this young little thing. The human blushed harder. I smiled. "No need to be shy. Amanda, is it? That's your name?"

By the way she nodded, just a second too late, I knew it was a fake. Perfect. This was one of my favorite games.

"Oh?" I asked. "Well Amanda—" I reveled in the way her face went beet red "—What would you like me to do for you?"

"I-I," she began, her voice shaking. "W-well I told the lady at the desk that I was thinking maybe about…taking a while…um…" she looked up at me, expression suddenly defensive. "I, uh, have a lot of money."

"Do you, Amanda?" I asked, picking up a lock of her long hair and twirling it around my finger. She blinked rapidly with lashes dark with mascara, looking down at my hand as if it were exposing her rather than twisting up her hair. Her breathing got heavy, swelling in her chest. I let my hand fall so the back of it was against her lifting breasts. She trembled, but didn't move.

"I think I know exactly what you want, darling," I spoke with a contemptuous grin, feeling her heartbeat thrum against my hand. I angled my head so my breath was whispering against her lips. "And I can do a very good job."

A whimper slipped from between her lips, and I could smell the rich scent of her arousal. I stole those lips of hers, capturing the sounds mewling from them. I was going to give this girl the night of her life.

The girl froze up as soon as my mouth had taken hers, and I smiled slightly against her lips, just enough so she could tell that I was amused. After a moment, however, instead of giving into me, she pushed her hands against my chest, urging me back. I broke from her mouth, though my lips were nearly brushing against hers all the same, and eyed her quizzically.

"M-maybe even longer," she murmured shyly but meaningfully as her eyes flicked up to mine. "M-maybe we can just…talk for a while."

I grinned. This was another favorite game of mine: girls who pretended they wanted something other than a huge cock shoving up them the entire time. This girl was just too shy, but I could tell what she was really after, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself. Sneering, I decided that the way to break this one would be the direct approach—don't chip at the ice, just split it right open. The very thought had my shaft pulsing with hunger. Well, that was as good an icebreaker as any.

I grabbed the girl's little hand and yanked it down to cup the bulge in my pants. The human's eyes popped, and I grinned as her face went bright red. She struggled, trying to gain her hand back, but I held it in place, rubbing it up against myself just enough so that I grew a bit bigger against her palm. She gasped.

"N-no," she protested. "No thank y—"

"I'm already so hot for you," I spoke, moving up to breathe it in her ear. Her lips trembled. "I know exactly what you want, and—" I bit her ear "—it's going to happen tonight." The image of laying her over the back of the chair—maybe even the table— and taking her from behind, had blood pumping through my organ, but I had better plans for this one. I lifted the girl up in my arms and stepped over to the screen.

"No thank you!" she was begging. I laughed softly under my breath. Begging for it. Her cries were too breathy, too sweet and unforceful to be real refusal. I knew exactly what this girl needed: a man who would take what he wanted no matter what. Luckily, I fit the bill. "I would rather not—!"

I threw back the screen, and the girl screamed when she turned to see the huge bed. "No!" she shrieked, shaking her head back and forth. "Wait, just wait! I have plenty of money—!"

I grinned. "And I'll make sure you get your money's worth." This one wanted to be tied up. Just the way she was squirming in my arms, I could sense her need to be held down. A pity there wasn't any equipment of that sort in the Virgin Room. My body would have to do.

"I mean it! Please!"

"Calm down, princess," I spoke derisively, taking the lobe of her ear between my teeth. "You don't have to pretend with me. I know you can't wait to have this inside you." And, as I threw her on the bed, I leaned forward and arched my back so my erection scraped against the inside of her thigh.

"Stop!" she cried out. I was thoroughly enjoying these false objections. It was pathetic how embarrassed she was about how much she needed me. I decided she probably needed it taken to the next level, and started pulling off her clothes, ripping them a little. She wanted fierceness. She wanted someone strong enough to have his way with her. Otherwise she never would have come here, never would have asked for me. I was pure muscle for a reason. She was screaming, and god, she was so wet. I reached between her legs, and shoved a finger up her, never letting her escape my domineering gaze.

"No! No!" she rebelled, now beating her tiny little fists against my chest and shoulders. She was kicking out with her legs too, but they were tangled up in her dropped pants. I grabbed her wrists and brought them above her head.

"You're going to love how hard I fuck you," I informed her, eyes glinting promisingly. Her eyes went wide as saucers, face going pale.

"N-no! Please, please no! Pl—!"

She was tight, but I pushed another finger in successfully after a bit of stretching. She screamed shrilly, fists lashing out. She was good at this. Virgins were obviously too nervous about being honest. The corner of my mouth jerked up. Good thing I was here to take care of her.

After I had her whining hopelessly, I drew my fingers out, and flashing my teeth, spoke,

"You're so hot for me, baby, aren't you? Nice and wet for me?" I unzipped my pants, and my erection sprung out, long and pulsing and ready. Eleven inches of pure virility.

"Oh my GOD!" the girl cried, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh my god, NO!" She squirmed some more, but I trapped her beneath me.

"You mean yes?" I spoke, laughing under my breath.

I was about to ram into her when the door banged open, and instead I turned around just in time to see David, his eyes fierce, march through the screen. My brows rose.

"Excuse me, but I'm—"

David grabbed the back of my shirt and threw me back. Taken off-guard, I stumbled against the wall. After regaining my bearings, I opened my mouth to tell the stocky rioth off, but just then Mrs. H ran in, frantic. She looked to me as she passed, her eyes turning so cold that I quickly zipped up my pants and snapped my mouth shut. The woman then ran to the girl on the bed, her hair falling out of its array of organized curls. David came back toward me, gripping my shoulder hard as if to force me to stay against the wall. He looked furious. I would have knocked that accusatory look right off his square face, if Mrs. H hadn't been right there. Our boss was speaking in soothing tones to the still crying girl, pulling a blanket up off the bed and wrapping it around her trembling shoulders. I rolled my eyes.

"Are you serious?" I asked, mostly directing my question toward David, who was right beside me, looking like he wanted to be holding me in a head-lock, not against the wall. "She was just acting. Get the fuck out so I can—"

"N-no!" the girl shouted through her tears, clutching at Mrs. H's skirt. "Don't leave me with him, please!"

I gritted my teeth. "Seriously, bitch? Are you trying to get me in trouble? Fucking hormonal cunt."

The girl burst into tears, and Mrs. H turned around, eyes lit fiercely even as she brought the weeping human against her chest.

"Eric," She took in a steep breath "I cannot believe you."

My shoulders shook with disbelieving laughter. The muscles in David's neck tensed, and his hand looked like it was itching to be around my throat.

"Really? Honestly, rape? This is a whore-house. People come here to get fucked."

"There are certain occasions when that is not the case," Mrs. H hissed. She turned to David.

"David, fetch a couple maids. I think I'll stay with Ms. Amanda for now."

David nodded with understanding. "Yes, ma'am," he conceded in his deep voice. Just before the stocky man had left through the screen, Mrs. H called out,

"She will be fully reimbursed, and offered a full month of free visits—should she wish to come back." Mrs. H eyed me murderously at this. "She will, of course, never again come in contact with Eric in any way."

David nodded again, and stepped out stonily. I was shaking my head back and forth, smiling with clenched teeth. I folded my arms. Everyone was making such a big deal over nothing. This was ridiculous. I'd never had a virgin before, and now, because of this misunderstanding, Mrs. H wouldn't probably let me at another one for a while. How unfair.

The maids scurried in after a drawn out moment between Mrs. H and the blubbering little girl, the two assistants looking like they'd run all the way. They wore cliché slutty maid uniforms—tight black corsets accentuated with white lace, and short skirts fluffed up so, when they bent over, slips of their white thongs were bared. I eyed them appreciatively—a nice distraction from the unnecessary chaos—watching their ample breasts heave in the low-cut dresses.

"Take her please," Mrs. H instructed. "Get her a bath, some tea, and a new set of clothing."

The maids nodded, ashen as they turned to look over at me, then moved their focuses back to the overly-dramatic girl. They whisked her away in the blanket, one maid on either side of her. Alice, the one closest to me, eyed me warningly as she grasped the shoulder of the girl, urging her forward. I winked at the slim black fairy suggestively as they slipped out.

Soon, it was only Mrs. H and I in the room.

"Well," I spoke, pushing off the wall, "I guess you'll have to chew me out later. I've got another appointment." I was about to step into the other room and exit, when Mrs. H stopped me dead in my tracks with an icy "Eric."

I turned my head back over my shoulder, brows lifting. "Yes?"

"Come here, now."

I rolled my eyes and swiveled back around, before walking up to the middle-aged woman. She was short—well, short for me, just like everyone was—and attractive for her age, her red hair coming down in loose curls that were only slightly dulled by age. She apparently was a skilled witch, but that didn't faze me. I could hardly keep from laughing at her most of the time regardless. Like right now.

"Say whatever you need to, but keep it short and sweet. I need to get going." That was a lie, of course. I'd been booked for a couple hours for the cute little blonde, and Mrs. H knew it. I just didn't really care.

"Eric," Mrs. H spoke, an underlying furiousness in her voice, "you will not be meeting anyone else today."

I lifted my brows. "Really, Mrs. H? Why are you getting so excited over nothing—"


I froze. Mrs. H exhaled heavily, her face flushing with rage, her shoulders raised. She only looked like that when she was really pissed.

"Sit down," she huffed. Obediently, I took a seat on the bed, expression purposely disinterested. Her hands clenched into fists as she took in my distracted demeanor. "You…" she seethed, "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

I observed my fingernails, not even bothering to look up to answer her question. "This is stupid."

A hand suddenly gripped my chin, and my face was jerked up. I grimaced irately, rearing my head back so Mrs. H was no longer handling me.

"What?" I demanded.

"Don't ask me what," Mrs. H snapped. "It's not like this is your first mistake. Clearly I've made a mistake though, letting you off easy because you bring in such good business. Now you're costing me more than you're worth."

"Yeah right—"

Mrs. H fumed, slamming her hand up against a bedpost.

"Are you blind? You fully intended to rape your client today. And without a condom, even! You would have if David hadn't heard the girl's screams and come to me right away. Did you not even stop to think?"

"That's exaggerating," I replied. "Like I said, she—"

"That is no exaggeration, Eric!" Mrs. H yelled. I blinked slowly, waiting for this to just be over with. "We could be sued! And aside from that, did you even give any thought at all to the girl? What if you had hurt her? Do you have any idea how much a hospital bill costs?!"

"I wouldn't have hurt her," I muttered angrily. "She was just fine—"

"I trusted you with a virgin, Eric, I trusted you! And this is what you do in return! Virgins are not the same as the older women you get on a regular basis! They are fragile! You could have killed her! Doesn't that bother you?"

"If you're so mad, fire me," I spat venomously. "I'll find someone else to hire me who won't be such a woman about everything." My lips twisted into a snarl. "I knew I shouldn't have let myself work for a female."

Mrs. H snapped. Her hazel eyes sparked, and she stepped closer to me, grabbing me by the collar.

"You are disgusting. I can't believe I ever let myself hire such a sick excuse for a man. What do you think good looks will do for you if you abuse them?"

That was it. I stood up to my full height, giving her a reality check as I grabbed her by the hair.

"I am not an excuse for a man," I growled. "I am a man, believe it or not, and I'm not going to let a bitch like you insult me."

And, grabbing her arm, I threw her back against the wall, ignoring the cry of pain as Mrs. H's head cracked against the wall.

"I'm leaving," I snarled, swiveling around and readjusting my collar, not deigning to look back. "You're not going to fire me, because I'm quitting."

Mrs. H groaned. I stepped forward to move through the open screen.

"You're revolting," Mrs. H spoke. I swiveled about, eyes flaring and reply already prepared, only to be halted by the sight of her hand raised and lit with magic. I stumbled backward.

"Don't," I spoke darkly, my hands suddenly shaky. "You wouldn't dare—"

The spell flashed and released, pounding right through me like a bolt of lightning. I dropped to the ground from the impact, shouting.

My fingers clenched in the carpet as the spell rode me, painfully sparking through my body. What kind of magic was this? Was it going to kill me? I moaned, my voice rising in pitch embarrassingly as a particularly painful spasm shocked between my legs. What was happening?

The spell wore away after a while, leaving me thankfully alive, but still extremely angry. I threw my hands down against the carpet and lifted myself up, preparing to threaten the woman with suing or the police. I stood, turning around furiously.

My pants abruptly dropped to the floor.

I looked down in shock at the pile of material gathered at my ankles. Flushing, I reached down for them, when I caught sight of what hung between my naked thighs.

And screamed.

Forcing my pants up—pants that were unexplainably too long and baggy, I jerked my face up to eye the woman who new stood at eye level. Mrs. H was gazing over at me sternly.

"What have you done?" I demanded, my voice coming out at a sweet, high pitch. I blanched, slapping a hand over my mouth and accidentally letting go of my pants at the same time.

"I've done exactly what you deserve," the witch spoke coldly, expression reproachful. As I watched, her lips twitched slightly, before she regained composure. "Let's see how you view women now—" Mrs. H breathed in and out as her lips twitched again. "Now that—" The witch smacked her lips together. "That you—"

And then Mrs. H broke down. Dropping her face into her hands, she fell to waves of uncontrolled giggles.

I was quivering in utter fear. Keeping my pants up with both hands, I tripped over the hems to the bathroom. When I got to the door, I slammed it closed, exposing myself to the full-length mirror on the door.

I stood there for a moment, immobile. Then, mouth gaping open and closed, I reached out to touch the glass.

The person who gazed back at me in horror was not a gyuren—not tall, not broad shouldered, not muscular, not the epitome of masculinity that was the very definition of my race.

Looking back at me was a fin.

Hemner's had a few fin employed—for those of other tastes. I looked in disbelief at the wide blue eyes staring back at me, and pulled my fingers through a thick shock of unruly ivory hair. I groaned, falling to my knees as I scraped dark blue fingernails down my face, tugging down on perfect pink Cupid's bow lips, which probably existed solely to look luscious encircling another man's cock. My brows crumpled upward, only serving to intensify the sickeningly vulnerable beauty of the heart shaped face in the mirror. I thudded my head against the mirror when it was too much, only to be met with the sight of my significantly shrunken dick. This useless thing would probably get to six inches standing, if it was lucky. I gritted my teeth, clenching my eyes shut. It was only insult after injury to dwell on the slender, delicate body that I was fully aware looked like it was submitting just leaning against the mirror like this. It didn't take much for the effeminate male fin to look like he was bending over for it.

And then, as I wallowed in the humiliation of this situation, the cruelty of this act against me, the ridicule of Mrs. H's laughter, which flared up every time I groaned from behind the bathroom door, something unexpected happened.

My eyes filled with tears.

Gyuren are truly the men of all men. I, personally, had girls all over me—young and old—filling up my hours to the point where I had to refuse requests sometimes, even though I'd only been working here about a year. Everyone wanted to have sex with a gyuren.

Thus, it could be obviously seen that a gyuren would never, ever find in himself the urge to cry. Men did not cry.

And yet, despite all this, liquid was clouding my vision, and drops of saltwater were breaking from my lower lashes. I sniffed in an exaggerated, girly kind of way to stave off this new compulsion, but, try as I might, I just couldn't stop. Soon my bony little shoulders were trembling, and I was wiping hopelessly at my face with my too-long sleeve, soaking through the fabric with the unacceptable weakness. My voice was even coming out in tiny little cries to accommodate wonderfully this show of pathetic behavior. The only thing that kept me slightly in control was the strong anger surging through me. Mrs. H had no right to do this to me, even as a joke. I would demand an apology as soon as she turned me back, and would promptly sue for magical misconduct. Hopefully that would teach her a lesson. She was going to be losing more than a valuable employee today.

Unsuccessfully working to stem the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes and slipping down my cheeks, I got up, holding my pants with both hands as I threw back the bathroom door. I stomped out as strongly as I could without tripping over my slacks, glaring at Mrs. H with watery eyes. The woman gave me one look and choked down another spasm of laughter.

"You," I addressed her as disrespectfully as possible, some of my thunder stolen by the way I couldn't look down on her, and my soft voice. "Change me back now. I won't be your…fucking entertainment."

Mrs. H sobered up as she eyed me, some of the flint returning to her gaze.

"Entertainment?" she bit out, her expression growing colder. "You think I did this for fun? Only someone like you would do something so demeaning for mere entertainment."

"Obviously not," I spoke after a bit of struggle. "Or you wouldn't do this."

The woman shook her head, jutting out her jaw in vehement frustration. She clamped her teeth together, seeped in a breath between them, before she allowed herself to look on me again. I tried to appear as severe as I could with tear-stained cheeks.

"Right now," I ordered, pointing down to the floor with a hard jerk of my wrist. "You change me back right now."

And then the witch did the unthinkable.

She refused me.

"No," she spoke, a confidence reigning in those words that would have crumbled under my authoritative presence if I were in my proper form. "No, I will not, Eric."

"What?!" I shrieked, thrusting my clenched fists down on either side of me in a way that would have struck fear into those heartless hazel eyes if I hadn't looked like such a tantrum-throwing pansy. "What do you mean NO?!" Already spiteful tears were, once again, blurring my vision. "Turn…turn me back right now, or I'll report you!"

"No you won't," Mrs. H spoke ominously. "You'll stay right here. Because if you leave, or try to report anything, I will not change you back. Ever."

"That's fine," I struck back, poison sharpening my words, as much as my words could be sharpened, anyways. "I'll just get another witch to do it. I'm sure the police will be perfectly happy to help me once I ex-explain—"

"Do you honestly think just any witch can change you back?"

"What?" I asked, brought to a halt by the unexpected turn in our argument.

Mrs. H's brows lowered sinisterly.

"I am an extremely powerful witch, Eric, more powerful than I've let on. There are very few witches—almost none—who can effect such a powerful form change. And even they would be hard pressed to change you back."

My jaw dropped, but I regained myself almost immediately, even under the idiotic stupor of this bumbling form. "You…expect me to believe that? If you're so powerful, why are you running a brothel for a living?" I bit my lip. All witches could do this, I bet. They just…never did it. Mrs. H was just crazy, not powerful. That had to be it.

A smirk tugged up on the witch's lips, and she closed her eyes, aggravation pressing up in lines between her eyebrows. "Do you truly believe this is all I do? Run a brothel?" she retorted, a condescending tone beginning to round off her voice. "No, this establishment is nothing in comparison to what I do for a living."

I reared back in illogical fear. What did she mean? However, my pride didn't give me time for wondering on this. I forced myself to pull out of my cringe and spoke up obstinately,

"I still don't believe you. Any witch could t-turn—" My eyes flashed in terror as I bit my tongue, shocked by the first stutter I had ever made. I was slowly de-evolving into a timid fin. This had to stop right now.

"This is your last chance," I offered roughly in my unintimidating fin voice. "Change me back."

Unmoved, the witch stared back at me, slowly melting my harsh expression with her silence, a denunciation in itself. I quivered at the force of her presence. I had never noticed it before. Finally, after I was practically bowing my head subserviently, my brows tensed upward in a nervous position I was unaccustomed to, Mrs. H spoke,

"You have two choices. You can either do what you say you will: leave, call the police, and find out there really is no witch to return you to your true form—other than the one you foolishly left; or, you can stay here, and learn the lesson I have set for you. You will still earn wages and room here as you have been. And, after I feel I can depend on you to work as yourself again without sending a girl to the ER, I'll make you a gyuren."

I literally stumbled back.

"No," I gasped. "No, you can't, no—no, I can't, no—" Tears were streaming down my face as I shook with fear, covering my mouth with a hand. "I w-won't—"

"Calm down," the witch cut in. "I, unlike you, am not sick and twisted, and will, therefore, not require you to service customers in such a way in this body."

I exhaled, sweet relief melting through me. The very idea of allowing men to touch me, kiss me, and inevitably take me from behind had my stomach in knots.

"However, you will have to work for your earnings," the witch stipulated. "You will simply work as a waiter in The Rift."

That had me tripping back as well.

"N-n-no!" I protested. This stuttering! "That's not fair!" The Rift was a restaurant below the actual whore-house, but no one in New York came for the excellent food, or even the stream of live music that played all hours. People came because it was an opportunity to get as up close and personal with the employees of Hemner's as they could without actually making an appointment. From the waiters and waitresses, down to the cooks, all of the employees were required to wear suggestive uniforms that were an open invitation for groping and casual touching. The employees, were, of course, also required to tolerate this attention from any customer, desired or not.

I had spent my time working down there, and hadn't minded it in the least—as a gyuren. Letting ladies cup my junk and slide their hands between my thighs while keeping up a straight face was my cup of tea. But I'd seen how the fin were treated there—constantly getting their asses slapped as they passed, and their small packages rubbed as they desperately tried to get down an order. I had even seen one of the disoriented boys lose his notepad when a man had jerked him forward and bent him over his lap to spank him a few times. It had been funny then, but thinking about that happening to me was…intolerable. "N-no," I sputtered again, feeling blood rush up into my face. "Please—" My brows tensed in confusion as the unfamiliar word slipped naturally from between my lips. "J-just don't."

"You will be a waiter, or you will leave," Mrs. H spoke with a note of finality. "And I've already been perfectly clear about what leaving will mean."

My face heated. "B-but." Stuttering again! "Mrs.—"

"I will have your uniform sent up to your room tomorrow morning. You will have the eleven o'clock shift."

I blinked.


"Yes, Eric, your room. Now get going. I am done with you for today. Get some sleep."

My face fell as I realized her meaning.

"Mrs. H, you can't do that! That's…that's just setting me up! This body…" Shame washed over my face. Being taken advantage of had never been a worry of mine.

"Cedar is above such low amusements, unlike someone I know." The witch's eyes glinted darkly. "You should know that as his roommate. He won't touch you unless you let him."

I choked then at the implied suggestion in my boss's voice. "I would never!"

"Well then, go up."

I looked down on my billowy clothing and threw my eyes back up to Mrs. H disbelievingly. The woman was unsympathetic.

"I suggest you be quick about getting to your room. You wouldn't want someone to catch you like that and get any ideas about what you might want."

I gulped, clutching the waist of my pants tightly. Yanking the long hems over my ankles, I began shuffling to the door.

"Oh, and Eric, don't even consider skipping over your room and going somewhere else. I'm going to call Cedar, inform him that your employment has been suspended, and tell him to expect a male fin in his room shortly. I'll know if you don't arrive."

Swallowing the lump in my throat again, I pattered my pretty little feet over to the door and precariously opened it, peeking out before I bolted down the hallway, the most awful fear pumping through my blood.

Please people, tell me if something is unbelievable or is just downright terrible.