How I wanted to crumple up the detention slip and throw it from me window to flutter upon the wind like so much flotsam. But that would do no good an probably get me in more trouble. Its jus….well it seems unfair all the time to be getting in trouble for things yah don’t have no memory for. An I never made it no habit to be running round with but a tattered shirt on me an a having to sneak me way back to me rooms like that. Miss Taylor, our resident director, wuz up an ‘bout when I had the misfortune of returning in me state of undress. Being the proper kind of dorm matron she immediately wrote me up for streaking and creating all sorts of disturbance unbecoming a lady. Me tears of anguish did no good in melting that rock hard heart of hers….

Detention….I hated detention. Not that I ever member much ‘bout it no how. Jus….jus I always come home with this sick feeling in me tummy and more than a few times in the same state of undress that got me in me present state of trouble in the first place. This time though wuz different. This time I’d been told to proceed to stairwell 1B at the gym. This time I swear I could feel an ancient evil as me patent leather shoes touched the bottom step. The cool an wet air clung to me skin like sum leach intent on sucking the warmth right from me bones. Goosebumps rose from me smooth hairless skin in row after row, a further tightening of me flesh ‘neath the school uniform made me more than aware that other parts of me were taught as well.

The heavy iron door hinges screech into the night as I disturb their slumber as if to announce me presence to some foul denizen. Clutching the pale white paper in me hand I take ‘nother step…an ‘nother into the eerie darkness. A ribbon of light slowly growing narrower an narrower as the door ‘hind me silently closes until with an horrible click an a total lack of light I am left alone…alone in the dark. I swear I can feel me heart going a million miles a minute. Oh how I pray…pray even as me mind plays tricks on me. Tricks like the light that flickers far down the corridor.

“Hello…..I….I’m reporting for detention” me voice echoing down the corridor, a hint of terror in me words. Valiantly I try to regain sum of me composure, but that scary horror movie that Hanaji had dragged me too…the one with the scantily clad girls in their nighties running round an getting butchered one by one plays out in me head. I take a deep breath of the cool moist air, settling me nerves as best I can.

My bare foot greets the chilly floor, jus like them stupid girls that did not run…did not put thar shoes on an ended up with broken glass upon the floor. For a moment I stop. Stop in utter confusion with bare feet upon the hard cold concrete. Slowly I run me hand down me body, fear growing in me belly as I find the smooth feeling of silk an lace….not cotton…not me uniform. I can feel me body tilt….feel the horror. Gulping I fight for breath, an as It all swirls in me mind I grab the thread…knowing…knowing….an wanna curse up a storm.

Me hand finds the black leather collar, now jus a simple silk ribbon ‘bout me throat. Desperately I try an tear the accursed thing from me throat even as its presence slowly soothes me very soul. “Noooo, noooo, noooo, not know…I don’t need to get in no more trouble you stupid horrible thing……” a crazy girl talking to herself I suddenly realize, the words providing another echo down the still hall. Lord….Lord why? Once again I ask the age old question, not really believing I’ll get an answer, but I ask no how.

No answer, the hall still deathly quite. With that I run, the soft slap of flesh upon the ground. A pattern of echoes sounds upon the smooth walls as I move to the light. Each step makes me wish I had on me sports bra, the tender flesh of me chest bouncing with a dull ache. Still I run to the warm light, a flickering candle…no…no two set upon the wall, sum thing shines tween them…casts the light back to the far wall of the dark ‘n’ dank corridor. A girl appears on that shining surface, her chest heaving from the short run, her eyes wide in surpirse.

Staring at the visage that is before me I am stricken by what I see. The barefoot girl stares back at me from the other side of the mirror. Red hair dances in the fire about her pale face. Green eyes sparkle with yellow motes from the flickering fire. Her skin so very pale, an set upon her shoulders the shear black nighty does nothing to cover the nakedness….only enhancing the curves of her bust. The golden crucifix draws attention to her mounds…draws me eyes tween them to the swell of her full breasts an almost…almost I reach outwards to take it off. So shear, the dark round ring of her nipples as they push the flimsey fabric outwards. Gold glitters clearly neath the sheer black surface, golden rings hanging from those erect nubs. The gown pulls across an downwards, plunging ever further down her torso. Drawing tightly ‘bout her slender waist ‘for it flares outwards about her rounded thighs. If it weren’t for the daring black undies nothing…I mean nothing would be covering her privates. Jus like on of them girls in that movie…just like it. Instinctively I try an cover me self. Far to naked….far to much so for me own sanity.

A chill runs through me body as I have this vague notion of being set up. The de-ju-vue of having been there before.

“Whoo…..who isss…..here.” I call out one time as I watch the girl in the mirror…now more worried than ‘fore. ‘Oh please lord let this be a mistake.’ I think to meself.

She's here...

Prof. Montclair gave the haemonculi an annoyed look which made the thing's incorporeal form shiver. It would have to do something about its penchant for stating the obvious later. From experience, he knew that subjects never responded very well when they were half-mindless with fear, succulent as it was.

Of course he knew she had arrived. One, because it had been him who had given the little construct its powerful senses so he knew that the girl was there even before his minion saw her. And two, it had been him who had 'persuaded' her dorm director to be just a hint harsher when dealing out the punishment. In her normal state of mind, Taylor wouldn't have even thought of stopping the young woman. What could one expect from a graduate from this academy?

With an sharp, irritated gesture, he banished the construct back to its pocket dimension within the lamp in his office and turned to straighten his tie. As an afterthought, he lifted the darkness from the room's immediate vicinity, not too far from where Cassie stood admiring himself in the mirror. As was his wont, he took the liberty of stamping his personality on that dim corner of the basement. Scrolls lay in a heap on the desk he had appropriated with piles of dusty books on either side oh him.

He ran a hand through his hair before slipping on his glasses and clearing his throat. The thing that masqueraded as a professor didn't have all day. There were discoveries to be made. And this fire-haired young woman would help, whether she wanted it or not.

"You're late, Ms. Smith."

A voice speaks me name from behind with a strange accent I can not place. Each word sends a shiver down me spine….late….I swear I wuzn’t in no way late. I look back into the mirror afraid to turn…afraid to reveal me self in the shame of what clothing I do wear. The red hair bounces as I shake me head, spinning a swirl of fire about me face. F

The light growing till I can see the legs of a desk in the reflection of the mirror. A shifting an suddenly I realize that the hallway is gone. Somewhere on the blank wall to me right must be a door. Gathering up me confidence I turn to face this man that hides in the shadows behind me. The one that traps me in his room.

A glint of glass catches the low light…glass that would be were I would expect a face to be in that darkness. Using me hands I cover me near nakedness an almost curse aloud the collar that circles me neck and leaves me so vulnerable ‘fore one that hides himself in darkness.

“would ….woud’cha mind turning up the lights so we can see one another. Its jus a right neighborly thing to do don’cha think?”

"You speak very casually for someone in what your country-men would term 'a hog's head o' trouble'."

Sure enough, the area around his erstwhile office became visible and Cassie could now see the owner of that silky voice behind the thick wooden desk and lounging back against a sumptuous red armchair.

Long hair dark as twilight that would have fallen straight past his shoulders was tied back with a length of utilitarian crimson ribbon, framed a narrow face that reminded one of those noble princes of the past had it not been so predatory or a shade of pale that would've looked better on a corpse. Eyes the color of drowned Spanish doubloons eyed her shapely form from behind wire-rimmed spectacles. His lean frame was encased in a neatly-kept dark suit with a tie the color of fired obsidian. All in all, the professor's whole appearance looked at odds with the mess surrounding him, piles of books, scrolls and artifacts that lay about haphazardly.

Prof. Montclair smiled, the gesture a perfect mirror of some predatory cat's, at the barely dressed young woman, her nipples almost poking out from her thin shift and milky thighs just taunting him from the hem. He gestured towards the stool in front of where he sat, bidding her to rest.

"Come now, Ms. Smith, I'm afraid neither you nor I have all day."

(I had a nice reply with jus the final touches to do…an MS decided to update me….an then proceeded to lose all me work….arrrgghhhhh)


T’wuz true what he said…I wuz in a bit of a pickle. Things wuzn’t going right at all for me an this wuz looking like a day gone from bad to worse. I’d come to this room in me school uniform. An now…now I wuz dressed in sum thing that made me feel even more naked. Hugging me arm across me bosom as it swells ‘neath the tight embrace. Trying desperately to cover me nakedness now that the lights were up. Funny that….funny how we can ask for sum thing an when we get it realize it wuzn;t what we really had in mind now how.

With a flick of me head the silky red strands of me hair swirled over me shoulders to settle like a drape of fire cross me front o’er the black smoke of me top. Breath comes a lil easier, me heart settling a bit as I feel the knot of muscle start to unwind in me shoulders an back. ‘thank you lord///you will be done’ settling into the strain of me detention made tougher by the way I be dressed. Not the first time that this has happened…not at all. A tinkle of laughter, like some still noise in the back of me head, barely discernable above the still pounding pulse of me heart.

The scent of strawberries an vanilla swirls round me head covering the musky scent of books an ink having sat to long in the stale air of this place. The scents of a scholar…a place for a professor. One can only hope that me day will be better for it. That a man of science an study won’t be like the jocks on the football team that had other ideas of what to do with girls. Boys I had avoided like the plague they were.

Glancing about I take in the room in the light that now reveals its cluttered contents. Looking downwards to the front of the desk were the books are piled high to its front one title grabs me attention. ‘Sexual attacks of poltergeists’. A strange title to a strange black book, its cover showing its years upon the dark an beaten leather.

Those golden eyes cast their weight across me flesh like I wuz being drunk right in. In that moment I felt the gaze upon me like an actual finger…a hand upon me skin, lingering, touching….eiree it wuz. A light shutter slips up me arms an down into me belly. A shutter brought on by nothing but the leer of a dirty old man. It sets other thoughts in me head. Not good thoughts….no not at all.

Very lady like I settle upon the wooden stool, careful to keep me legs crossed at me knees an close together. The picture of modesty even with me scanty outfit an all. No, I’d been brought up good an well. A proper catholic upbringing that I wuz not ‘bout to go back on no matter how dire the circumstances. Me bare bum settles upon the smooth an polished surface, the wood heating up under the warm flesh of me body.

“ummm….ahhh Sir….I….I don’t reckon I know yur name an …. “ Dropping me gaze I once more took in the book title….me heart speeding up again. The gaze…the gaze still upon me. I swear I could feel it, feel it settle along me hips an pass o’er me hand as I held it to the front of the black lace panties. I had to get his eyes off me….to switch the focus from me.

“an … well I will be more n happy to help clean up the place an all as a part of me detention, ahhh professor…????” Shrugging me shoulders, then lifting me eyes to his. Mine green an full of life not so different as his were glittering gold. Still….I suppose I wuz in a bit of a pickle…very much so as the weight of them eyes rolled up me body to rest upon me own eyes, our gaze locking in a moment.

Very lady like I settle upon the chair, careful to keep me legs crossed at me knees an close together. I’d not be inviting his pickle there…no siree.

(Haha, join the club. It's happened to me before. ^_^)

"Oh, you must've been absent when I took over for Prof. Callister. My name is Substitute Professor Anthony Montclair. But most just call me 'Sir Anthony'."

The grin returned, if not just a bit wider than it was earlier. It was true he was glad to see her, for she was among the latest subjects in a series of far-reaching experiments. She interested him, with the purity she tried to maintain. It almost made him feel ashamed. Almost.

"And you will help, of course. But not the way you imagined..."

With a chill laugh, he stood, towering over her through sheer personality. As quickly as the sound came, it was gone, lost in the halls as his face took on a determined, serious cast.

"Come, time is of the essence."

And with that, he led her down the dungeon's twisting depths, his steps not even echoing against the stone as he withdrew into the sunless gloom.

Sitting perty I suppose might be what they call it when yur all jus a waiting for the other shoe to drop an all. As much as it seemed I wuz sum thing like a brightly colored parrot on a perch, at least now I had a name. A very proper one at that, Sir Anthony Monclair, like outta some dime store romance novel; the kind where the girl falls madly in love with the wonderful rich intellectual guy from the sprawling palace on the grassy hill. Nice an romantic that thought.

The grin though had not a bit of romance to it. More like I wuz that parrot an he wuz some sort of cat ‘bout to start toying with his prey an all. I might jus have to get out me claws. Karate class had been progressing nicely an now…now in me 2nd semester of it I’d learned a few tricks. The deathly palor made me think that this one didn’t have much fight in him if it came to that. But….but thinking these things wuz I reckon a lil on the unneighborly side an none to Christian a thing to do. An if a man wants to be a bit boorish in his behavior well I suppose its jus the way sum behave. Look an grin all yah want….so long as he didn’t do nothing else I suppose I could live with it. Though I would have to tell him gods plan for his life of course.

A simple gesture, a few words….obey or else written into the them as I felt him tower o’er me. Perhaps me earlier thinkin’ had been a bit off the mark. Feelings of being utterly nothing next to him hit me like a big ole truck. Even as I sat he wuz off….off down a corridor not a waiting a bit. All haste an legs jus a moving on out while I sat an stared at the swirl of inky blackness as it engulfed his pale flesh.

Nearly falling off the stool, me feet heavily smack the pavement. Quickly I gather me wits an body together an follow….follow into the unlighted depths or the basement. Soon only snatches of Pale skin seem to glow in the darkness….the rest of him lost in a haze of grays.

“sir….Sir Anthony…please….could yah go a bit slower, its really dark an hard to follow yah…” an edge of panic on me voice as the image in front of me seems to take on a surreal an ghostly shape.

He heard her pleas and grinned. In her head, he suggested all sorts of images and hallucinations that lurked just behind the veil of shadows. Slavering, malformed creatures and sadistic spirits, all waiting for her to lose the image of his back and ribbon right before having her all for their sick fantasies and to sate their perverse appetites.

Magadon quickened his pace if only a bit, giving her a teasing glimpse of his form just before almost receding into the darkness. He repeated this step several times, her distress an appetizer of what would come.

His rich low voice called out to her, "Come now, surely you're faster than that. We're almost there, and I know you wouldn't want to add to your detention now, would you?"

She could almost hear the mocking laugh in his voice, the one that poked at her ire and stoked her insecurity. This should be good, he thought. I've never had red-head before. And they do have a certain fire about them.

He licked his lips at the prospect as his step became faster.

The suffocating darkness clawed at the insides of me tight throat as if fighting to take me into the netherworld. The red ribbon went from crimson to grey…to the same inky blackness of his hair. Instinctively I brought me arms from covering me to protecting me way forward. One trailing along the course concrete wall, the other on front to ward off any things I might encounter in the darkness. Try as I might there wuz nothing to see.

A cool breeze slides round me ankle an then up me leg as if it has a mind of its own. Shaking me leg I try to free me self from its cold grasp. Ghosts ain’t real are they….me mind drifting to the strange book title. Hairs stand up on the back of me neck, rigid as a cool sweat breaks upon me brow.
Shuttering I shuffle on, more anxious than ever to catch up to the strange professor.

Not a sound from his steps nor even the swish of cloth reaches me ears. Finally….finally I hear the words upon the wind a condescending lilt to the voice that beacons me on into this dark an fetid place. The thought crosses me mind that maybe he’s jus a playing with me like. Almost I run into the door jamb as me fingers briefly touch its surface….not funny….not very funny at all. Maybe it’s all laughs an glee seeing to the punishment of us students. But this darkness….this ancient terror of it an the way me imagination had been getting the better of me with them cold touches, not funny.

“Sir…..Sir could yah pleeeease turn on the light….I….I almost ran smack into the door jamb an this walking round in the dark an all is not funny. Ok…I….I’ve learned me lesson an all. I’ll….I’ll sweep the room or do me lessons…or whatever this detention thingy is all ‘bouts. “ I wuz really trying to keep the edge out of me voice…the panic and the anger at this stupid lil ole game of his. Did I have to get stuck with the strange ones? the ones that made yah feel like a rat in some grand experiment in which they wuz the cat.

A short burst, and every thing was thrown into murky relief against the flared lighter in Prof. Montclair's hand. At least, for a while, the darkness was staved by the guttering yellow-orange light.

"We're here." His voice betrayed no emotion as he reached for the knob which was shaped like one of Notre Dame's fabled guardians. With a hiss and a creak, the door swung inwards, revealing a musty and damp laboratory.

The lean teacher stepped inwards and gestured towards an ancient-looking stool with books piled on one side and a tall lamp on the other.

"Stay there until I call you. I must prepare some things." His eyes gleamed, malevolence barely concealed.

And with that, he turned towards the far-end of the room, scooping up beakers, vials and all sorts of things, some of which any scientist or alchemist would rather not speculate upon.

Appearing once more within the black mass of hair, the cherry ribbon glowed in the firelight. Blinking I let me eyes adjust to this welcome change. Adjusting to the flickering orange flame more details emerge from the shadows. Like some underground city from long ago, the stonework leaps out in stark contrast to what is above the ground. Here the bricks seam hewn from the very earth….an the door….the solid looking wood with its black iron work. A grotesque decorates the knob. Thankfully I will not have to touch it as me detention supervisors hand closes upon its evil looking surface an swings the door open.

The voice greeting me once more, monotone and lifeless, like sum sort of emotionless robot. His mood shifting, I reckon, to a pure an detached scientist type. A shiver rolls down me body as I wonder what the man mat want of me. I am not a lab rat. I want to scream at him that I am human…a fellow traveler on life’s paths. Before I can I turns to me…gesturing… the eyes sparkling with mirth. There be emotion within those golden orbs, perhaps too much emotion as he speaks.

Rather than make me punishment any worse I sit upon the old an wooden stool as told. Me nearly bare bum warming the cool surface of smooth an polished oak. With great care I adjust me hair an body to cover all the parts of me that shouldn’t be a showing to no man.

With curious fascination I watch the drama unfold before me very eyes. The many beakers glinting in the flickering light. Sum have things within, things that float an a clear liquid an make me body squirm in disgust. Beakers an tubes an of all sorts line the shelves an sit upon a table. No longer do I worry that I sit upon this stool to be poised an painted like a temptress of old. No, A growing worry gnaws at me tummy. A worry that I may have to help as an assistant, sum thing that I am not good at on account of me science troubles. How I fear embarrassment…all ready way to underdressed for this sort of thing.

Me foot jiggles in the air, fingers drumming me skin as I sit all upright with me hands in me lap. Twitching and waiting. Finally unable to bear the strain of silence any longer me voice cracks to life.

“So what kinda professor are you Sir Anthony….an speaking of that how can I help…I mean there must be sum thing I can do though I gotta admit I ain’t all that good with the science stuff. Seems kinda like magic sometimes. But I am good with song an stuff. I mean I could sing for yah…or maybe even straighten up sum of these books an things that yah got scattered all o’er this room of yours. An Speaking of rooms….this one looks really old….like is the school build on one of them Roman ruins or sum such. I’ve heard ‘bout things like that. I’d never realized the campus wuz built on such things….I mean being in the south pacific an all like that perty brochure showed means I suppose this couldn’t be roman now could it. “ Pausing to see if there is any response, but no…only the clink of glass echoes in the room.

“I don’t suppose you would have a lab coat….I mean like It would be a real good idea an I feel kinda naked. I don’t want yah to get the wrong idea, but I really did get dressed this morning an I ain’t trying nothing funny” heat rising up me chest an across me cheeks as I realize how silly it all sounds…an tah think I am being punished for this very same thing. Oh….the horrible things he must think ‘bout me an me virtues an all.

“Well….really ummm….yah got a bible…I mean are you a Christian Sir Anthony ‘cause yur name sounds real like European of sorts an like I am a Christian. I even got to the point where If I hadn’t come here I would have been at the Abbot of perpetual hope an goodness with me fellow sisters of the cloth.”

Magadon heard her prattle and fought back an all-too human sigh. Christian, me? The Void may as well be warm and bright like this four-times-damned island. He gave a small human shudder at the idea but laughed. "I'm afraid I'm not Catholic." He believed he was fairly successful in keeping any vitriol of his pronunciation of the word. "I discovered Bushido growing up in Johannesburg. I keep that Bible around for reference purposes." This was a half-truth. He did feel somewhat curious by the ancient code, but he never gave it a second thought. His kind had no need for honor. The location of his upbringing was a random place his psyche presented to him, but he almost laughed out loud imagining her face when he told her he was 'born' in a place that knew no light or beauty.

The darkhaired head atop the tall form tilted to peer at a list before turning back to his work. "I'm a professor of histories, both obscure of otherwise but I do have a very inquisitive streak. You don't have to sing or tidy up, though. I'll only need your participation very soon..." Hopefully, this banter means she'll be just a bit more trusting...

His smooth pale hand picked up a vial of midnight blue liquid and lightly rattled it. The smile reappeared when the liquid showed no signs of being disturbed. He tipped a bit of the vial's contents into an iron cauldron and set it simmering just as he mixed a beaker full of some glowing green yet semi solid mass. The smell emanating from it would have put down anyone who could breathe but he exerted some of his iron will and the need to cough or double over subsided like a retreating wave. If any of the Others saw that... He almost snarled at the idea of being made a laughingstock but stopped when he saw the studded accessory round Cassie's slender neck and smiled. He opened a drawer, taking care to mask any noise with a hint of Nal magic.

"Say, that is a fine colla- I mean, choker you're wearing."

His eyes fairly glowed as they alighted upon the item in question.

Ah a wayward soul in need of saving. It had to be the reason I sat here in this cold damp room. Finally, a chance to share me faith with a lost sheep. To bring one to the fold for me master in heaven. “Sir, it is good that you have found the bible a good reference. But … but it is more…..”

An then upon the stale air came the most unwelcome of scents. One moment I sat upon my stool a talking of the lord and the very next the perfume of hell itself wafted across me vulnerable nostrils. The next I found me self on all knees and elbows, gagging an a hacking as I fought the makings of a very unlady like mess upon the floor. Convulsing from the very center of me being, I did all I could to keep from spilling me guts out upon the rough rock below me lips. Rolling o’er on me back, panting for the cleaner air closer to the floor, each an every breath cleansing the stench within me nostrils.

Our eyes meeting, his large black pools within a frame of pale skin, my own watching the quick shift of emotion across his face. So fast, from a lack of emotion to interest me hand drifting to the band of black leather as he spoke.

“I….yes, it is nice…” but what should I share….what did I really know? Yet I could not lie…could not hide behind half truths for it would be all wrong. SO very unchristian like an wrong to do such. Carefully sitting up, taking care to not be sum bad girl by showing me body off in ways that were bad an wrong.

“Honest….I …I jus had it on one time after detention. I don’t member nothing ‘bout it either.” Gathering up me courage for I continue. “Might yah know sum thing ‘bout it?”

"Hmm," he began, tapping the side of his nose thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, the compounds I've been brewing may not tell m- I mean, us, from where exactly is it from, but it could loosen it to a point where you may take it off."

He walked over and helped her up, pretending not to touch any of the more obvious sections of her anatomy. The darkness that had been hounding her conveyed such feelings to him already and he suppressed those thoughts. More time for that later.

"Now, if you'd just step over to the counter, we can see what that really is." Sir Anthony's tone and face was the portrait of a helpful, if not moody, professor. But the veiled gleam behind his eyes told of a different tale.

Sum thing inside clenched in horror at the words he spoke. Take it off….why? I really couldn’t member a time without it…well I suppose there had been. The cool trickle of sweat ran cross me forehead ‘for bringing me hand up to wipe the beads of sweat from me brow while I pondered his words. No, I had to admit to me self I didn’t like that thought. Much as I found the collar less than amusing when things happen an all, being without it had a feeling of nakedness that left me all hot an cold at the same time like when yah get one of them fevers.

The distance tween us gone with but a few of his steps while I thought ‘bout what he had said. Like a good gentleman of noble birth he offered a hand, his gaze an stance indicating he only wished to assist me to me feet. Gratefully I took that pale hand in me own…finding it cool to the touch, though me own might have had the heat of a fever in it.

“Thank you good sir” politely a dipping me chin a bit, “though I really don’t think it would be necessary to take it off…I kinda like it right where it were if yah don’t mind to much.”

The tone of his words letting me know I really in truly wanted to help…help me with the collar. A nice piece of jewelry that was…jewelry after a sort. It made me feel warm an comfy like. But being without it seemed all wrong. Kinda like the golden cross I wore round me neck an its familiar weight upon the skin of me chest. Most the time You don’t even feel them things…till…till someone says sum thing. All that thought an none to how I now stood in front of sum strange counter with its bubbling pot of goo. Detention had taken a strange turn of sorts.

“what do I need to do?”