Scourge had been unaware that the monsters at this school were expected to fulfill certain… responsibilities… in their time on the island. One of these he had just been made aware of was that of providing punishment for various detentions certain girls might have received.

Needless to say he was thrilled at the news.

Making his way up from his lair deep within the confines of the basement, he eventually found the room in which the detention was supposedly taking place. This place was built like an Escher drawing, he wasn’t entirely sure how the girls would find their way around down here when he was getting lost (and he, personally, thought himself quite excellent when it came to sense of direction).

He examined the note one more time, sighing as he sat at a heavy, oak stained desk in the otherwise bare room, tapping his chin lightly with a clawed digit. It was written on a heavy textured, expensive cream paper and typed in an elegant script, so it had an air of legitimacy about it, but it said nothing about his prey or the charges leveled against her. With a shrug, he tossed the note into a trash bin, looking around to get a hold on his bearings in the room.

It was small, square, and largely devoid of any distinguishing feature. The walls were bare concrete as were the cold floors. A pair of heavy, industrial steel doors led into the room and an identical door on the opposite wall continued into rooms with more personality, possibilities that excited him more.

He sat in the high-backed rolling chair provided him, waiting at the desk. After digging around in some of the closets, he had found a simple dressing screen and pulled it across the front of the desk, obscuring his form and only allowing his silhouette to be seen. Sitting as such, he cracked open the book of poetry he had brought up with him and waited for his charge to arrive.

((Sorry I took! I didn't know you'd started the thread.))

Diana carefully walked down the steps, feeling the wall with her hands to keep her bearings. She could just barely see the outline of the stairs and the wall, the smallest bits of light entering the room through what seemed like distant torches. The hallway was long and quiet, the walls made out of concrete and not even attempted at being covered up. The concrete was worn and jagged, seemingly ancient. Diana felt a shiver run up her spine as the familiar draft swept through the hallway. It went straight through her clothes, getting right at her sensitive chest and perking up her nipples effortlessly.

She may as well not be wearing a bra or shirt, Diana mused. It didn't protect her from the cold or from the creature that she was going to be forced to confront. Suddenly a door appeared out of seemingly nowhere. It was made out of steel and fairly large, the hinges grand and sturdy looking. Diana saw the letters etched into a metal slab bolted onto the door. "1608." Looking down at her card, Diana realized that she'd finally found her cell.

She stepped into the room, her sneakers bumping on the raised door frame and tipping her forwards. Diana clumsily stumbled into the room, trying to catch herself before falling onto the cold, unforgiving concrete floor. She failed and found herself laying on the floor with her bum raised in the air. Groaning softly, Diana pushed herself up and looked at the dress screen put up in front of what could only be her punisher. Diana whimpered softly and shyly spoke. "Hello... My name is Diana Varnia. I was told to come here."

“Ah… yes… Miss… Varnia, is it?” the sound leaving his lips barely a hiss from behind the curtain, only the faintest hint of the formerly strong accent tingeing his voice.

“I’m… not quite sure what you’ve done to be sent down here…” he admitting, standing behind the barrier, his form silhouetted starkly in the thin paper screen.

“All I know…” he trailed off, lifting his horribly deformed left hand, cracking the knuckles on the claw with a sigh, “Is that it is my duty to discourage such behavior in the future…”

Each breath seemed to tax him, his mouth almost sounding unused to forming the words, as though they were unfamiliar shapes upon his tongue. That wasn’t entirely untrue, while his muscles were regularly jolted to stop them from deteriorating while he was kept in stasis; his vocal chords were honored with no such treatment. As such, it was only recently that he was finally working out the kinks.

He dogeared the page he had marked, grimacing as he did so, placing the book down on the desk with which he was provided. With a quick gesture, he folded up the screen, setting it lightly to the side.

“I believe it’s time we were properly introduced,” he gave a sweeping bow, keeping his eyes up, deformed talon swept back to the side, “I will be your disciplinarian this evening. If you would be so kind as to proceed through the door behind me, we may finally get this underway…”

Diana dumbly nodded her head, her mouth slightly agape at the terrifyingly malicious figure standing before her. Fear gripped her heart like a tight gauntlet, squeezing all of her hope out of it. Diana felt no cold wind blowing through the room, no strange draft, yet still she shivered. She walked forwards, swallowing her terror. Reaching the door, she pushed it open, immediately looking away from the room.

Diana half expected something to jump out at her, or some horrendous scene to be unfolding within the chamber. But when she heard nothing, didn't find herself laying sprawled on the floor, Diana looked back at the chamber to find it empty. Stepping past the doorway, she left any thoughts of salvation and safety behind. Hopelessness gripped at her soul, swimming through her body. Pushing away the negative emotion, Diana turned around in the room and awaited her captor. Never turn your back on them or you'll get it up the rear end. One of her friends had told her that, ages ago, but Diana could hardly remember her name. She hadn't even seen that friend in ages.