The ravens cawed from up on the football field posts. The overcast threatened rain, but held no bite. As Australia often behaves, the heat suddenly disappeared overnight, and 30o days seemed to be replaced by 13o days in the blink of an eye. Winter was rolling in. Time was passing and running out. As the walls caved in ever so more each minute, stupid decisions and ideas became far too popular.

  "This is ridiculous!"

  "It's fine! I can handle a little pain!"

  "You're insane!"

  "Just break my ankle already!"

  Malachi groaned, giving in. He briefly glanced around to make sure no one was looking their way behind the school. A shudder ran down his spine. He shook it off and took a deep breath.

  "You're stalling!" Hunter whispered tensely.

  "I've never done this before!" Malachi growled back.

  "Just kick it!" Hunter clenched his fists.

  Malachi used all his strength and stomped on Hunter's ankle as hard as he could. Hunter wheezed and fell to his knees in silent agony. Kai pulled back in a panic.

  "I'm fine!" Hunter barked weakly. "Continue.. with the.. plan!"

  Malachi gulped and looked around again.

  "Oh, no! I can't believe you broke your ankle, Hunter!" He called unconvincingly.

  "Dude, just carry me! No one's coming!"

  "You should've said that earlier!"

  Malachi huffed as he scooped Hunter up in his arms. It wasn't easy, the guy was mostly muscle. He started heading through the field and towards the administration building, but each step was laboured.

  "Are you... crying?" Kai widened his eyes at the jock in his arms.

  "Only a little! It hurt!" Hunter grumbled. "Tell anyone and I'll kill you."

  As the doors slid open, the stares that followed from the admin staff were almost embarrassing. Malachi wasn't exactly the strongest guy around, and he especially didn't look like it. Yet there he was babying a football player.

  "I broke my ankle." Hunter gulped.

  "Head on into the nurse's office." A staff member murmured, slightly disturbed.

  "Thanks." Malachi strained a smile, carrying Hunter down the hallway.

  "I'm not following." The nurse frowned. "You said you broke your ankle in P.E, but the gym was closed today. You should've been in a classroom doing theory."

  "Ah, yeah, well," Hunter, ever the horrible liar, rubbed the back of his neck as he mumbled, "We spent the class out on the field instead, because–"

  "Because we finished our work early, so our teacher let us have a break." Malachi intercepted. "The grass was wet from the rain, that's why he slipped."

  "Yeah." Hunter jumped in.

  The nurse nodded, not quite sure if she believed the story. She inspected Hunter's ankle closely, keeping it propped up on a chair beside his own. A sigh escaped her at the sight of the very obvious shoe-print on his skin. She walked over to a cabinet to get some supplies.

  "Malachi, you should head back to class now, okay?" The nurse spoke.

  Malachi shot Hunter a look, and he nodded in approval.

  "Alright, thank you." Malachi headed out of the room with an innocent smile.

  It fell from his face the second he turned the corner. He had to get this right. If he made even the slightest mistake, he'd risk suspension. Worse, he'd never get that damn book.

  Avoiding the cameras wasn't the issue since no one really ever checked them. Avoiding the staff was the real challenge. The hallways were wide and long, every door had large windows. There were no hiding spots, nor were there many excuses that could simply dismiss his presence if he was spotted. But he'd spent days planning this, and he wasn't going to give it up.

  Malachi knew he wasn't strong like hunter, or social like Carly and London, but he did have pity on his side. Being the only student he knew that willingly talked to the school counsellor, and frequently at that, he knew the teachers often went easy on him because school counsellors are known to gossip. He'd discovered that he could escape most punishment if he pretended to be upset, or if he made up some lie about his antidepressants making him act out.

  So if he wanted that shitty vampire-superhero guidebook he still wasn't fully convinced was even real, by hell he was going to get it.

  There was only one consistent time the principal's office was both unlocked and unoccupied throughout the week. At exactly 12pm every single day, Mr Vance would head to one of the seventh grade classrooms and treat those spoiled twelve year olds like royalty.

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  Malachi worried if he was cutting it too close, his watch reading 12:14. He really hadn't thought the nurse would take so long to kick him out. But no one was around, and no one was inside, so he went in.

  Mr Vance had definitely added his own charm to the room. The previous principal had been a hard-ass, and firmly believed that a dull and uncomfortable principal's office would teach students to behave better. Clearly the new principal did not. The walls were painted with luxurious, moody hues. The cabinets and bookshelves were dark oak, matching the other furniture. The window was covered by curtains that blocked out all light, leaving the amber lamps scattered around the place to set ambience instead. Even the chair across from the desk seemed expensive.

  "Somehow I think this is scarier than before." Malachi muttered.

  Forcing himself to stay focused, Malachi began rummaging through every drawer one by one. They contained papers, documents, reports, exams, cheat sheets, even ID cards, but no shitty sketchbook. One drawer was filled with CCTV screenshots, which he thought was somewhat strange, but it seemed like every drawer was weirder than the last.

  A collection of drivers licenses from completely random people. Copies of property deeds all across the country. Printed out mugshots. An ID of the principal himself, but from the 90's, with him looking not much younger than now.

  "Diego Vance. Date of birth: 05/08/1972." Malachi read aloud, stunned. "There's no way this guy is over fifty years old. Elder millennial at best."

  Brushing aside a few papers, he found several more.

  "Date of birth: 11/10/1981. Date of birth: 04/09/1987. Date of birth: 06/02/1995."

  Malachi's head span with every fake card he found. The photos were all clearly different, but the principal looked barely any different between them.

  He gulped.

  "Find the book. Find the book." He shook his head and shut the drawer, moving to inspect a locked cabinet under the desk.

  "What type of book?"

  Malachi jumped in dread at the voice, and looked up to see Mr Vance standing in the doorway. Arms crossed, expression blank, oddly unsettling.

  "Um... I was just.."

  "Snooping." Mr Vance raised a brow. "Clearly."

  The principal stepped further inside and let the door shut behind him. He tilted his head.

  "So what kind of book were you after?" He sat himself down rather comfortably on a chair. "A textbook? A sketchbook? A notebook?"

  Malachi was almost trembling, to his own surprise. He wasn't scared of punishment, he was confident he could simply talk his way into getting the book. Yet for some strange reason, something about the situation made him feel compelled to explain.

  "I'm sorry for intruding." He forced himself to change the topic before nerves could get to him. "I have a really bad habit of wandering when my mind gets all–"

  "I liked your idea." Mr Vance smiled slightly. "Distract the staff with a severe injury on the one student who's never been tackled? Not bad. Though I think the execution was rather messy, wouldn't you agree?"

  "Yeah, I didn't even clean the footprint..." Malachi narrowed his eyes at his own words. "... Um..."

  "Y'know, the other day I tried calling up London Whitmore's dad to discuss her attendance, but I was surprised to hear that she and Carly haven't lived in their own house for over a month." The principal propped his arm up on the armrest. "I asked why no one had informed the school of the housing arrangements changing, and all I got from the man was 'um' and 'uhh'. After calling their mother instead, I almost got a real answer. 'Their friend isn't safe living all alone right now, so they've moved in until things get better.' Isn't that strange?"

  "It's not that strange." Malachi felt frozen. He couldn't control what was coming out of his mouth. "They're good people."

  "I agree. I found it rather moving." Mr Vance shrugged. "But the lack of transparency and honesty when asked really concerned me. Usually housing arrangement changes have to be told to the school as soon as possible, else we may send a student home to a place unsafe."

  Malachi nodded stiffly.

  "I only worry extra for those girls because two of their friends are missing persons. To hear that they're deeply involved in helping 'a friend' struggling with substance abuse sparked alarms in my head." The principal sighed. "You wouldn't happen to know the friend in question?"

  "I know him." Malachi blurted, instantly screaming at himself internally.

  "Hm." Mr Vance smirked slightly. "Do you think those girls are safe living with no one but that friend?"

  "It's not just him, Tori's there too." Malachi's eyes shot wide the second he said the words.

  Mr Vance went quiet.

  "Ah. So that's the book you're looking for." His tone was deeper, darker somehow.

  The man stood and walked to the desk, right up beside Malachi, who scooted back a distance. Mr Vance unlocked the desk cabinet and pulled out a messy notebook. The cover was dirty, dusty, scratched. The book itself was slightly bent. It had clearly been through hell. Malachi couldn't move, despite every part of him desperately wanting to snatch the book and run.

  "Carly wanted it too, though I'm sure she talked to you about it." Mr Vance hummed as he calmly scrolled through the pages. "She said she wanted it for sentimental value – grief relief. What do you want it for?"

  "I need to..." This time, Malachi managed to cut himself off. He was on the verge of panicking now.

  The principal glanced at him in amusement.

  "What was that again?"

  "Carly thinks it'll help Tori."

  "She thinks this book of imaginative fantasy lore and sketches will help her missing and presumed dead friend?"

  "Zach wants it back."

  "Does he now?"

  Malachi leaned against the wall behind him. He'd never felt so distraught and disturbed by himself in his life. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? One more slip up could expose everything, and he didn't even know what was making him act like that.

  "Kai, did you get the–" Hunter froze the second he reached the doorway.

  "Hunter. Good to see your ankle isn't too bad." Mr Vance smiled, closing the book. "Never thought I'd see you in crutches."

  "Thanks. Yeah, it'll take me a bit to get used to." Hunter furrowed his brow, shooting Malachi an utterly disturbed look.

  Malachi sent one back of desperation.

  "Where exactly are you taking me, Zach?" London huffed from the passenger seat. "And don't just say the woods–"

  "The woods." I murmured bitterly.

  "Great. Perfect. I'm being taken out into the trees by an emotionally unstable, heartbroken vampire." London groaned. "Whatever could go wrong?"

  "Unstable?" I fought back a smirk. "I can control myself just fine."

  London deadpanned.

  "Emotionally!" I emphasised with an eye roll.

  "You're actually deluded."

  "You're actually a pain in the ass."

  "You're actually driving on the wrong side of the road!"

  I blinked wide at that and snapped back into alert, swerving the ute back into the right lane. A heavy beat of silence fell over us. Eventually I cleared my throat.

  "Look, I lied about at least 80 of the 120 hours I needed to get a license–"

  "It shows!" London growled. "Not everyone's immortal like you!"

  I tensed at that.

  "You only think I'm immortal because I haven't died since I turned." I muttered. "I'm still hoping I'm not, but we won't know unless my head falls off or I'm still around at 150 years old."

  London went quiet and nodded solemnly, regretting her words.

  The overcast was more than welcomed in my opinion. UV radiation could still hit pretty high even through the clouds in the right conditions, but the heat was gone. And I loved the smell of rain.

  London eventually cleared her throat, her voice much softer.

  "Zach, where are we going?"

  I bit my lip and gripped the wheel tighter.

  "I'm taking you to where I killed Victoria."