Fenix walked out, his steps slow and deliberate, each one echoing faintly against the cold, tiled floor. The dim overhead lights flickered, casting fractured shadows that stretched unnaturally along the hallway walls. He veered left, away from the washroom, his hands tucked into his pockets as he made his way toward the janitor's closet.
The air smelled faintly of bleach and something metallic, something that didn't belong.
The darkness swallowed him whole, as if the hallway itself conspired to keep him hidden.
He looked like he was anticipating something to come.
And it did.
Figures emerged from the shadows, their footsteps light but hurried. One of them reached for his collar, fingers tightening like a vice.
Fenix didn't resist.
His expression remained neutral, his breathing even. No tension in his muscles, no instinct to struggle. He looked nothing like a person who should fight back. He seemed nothing like a victim at all.
That unsettled them.
Still, they shoved him into the janitor's closet, the door slamming shut behind him. The darkness pressed in, suffocating, but Fenix only smiled.
The dim light filtering through the cracked door made his face look ghastly—too pale, his eyes glinting unnaturally in the shadows.
As the door behind him closed, he smiled. The dark light illuminated his face, making him seem ghostly white.
He was expecting someone to come save him.
Maybe that was what he was.
A monster as the kids called him.
A man in black slowly walked over and unlocked the door.
He reached out his hand, and Fenix took it.
"Did the plan work?" The boy asked
"Yes, it did," Fenix said indifferently. His voice was as cold as the air around him.
"Go back. Don't let her find anything wrong, or it will not end nice . "
They had formed a silent agreement. An unspoken pact for one person.
Hope.
She could never know.
She could never suspect.
If she did, things would unravel.
And that would not end well. Not for her. Not for anyone.
Let her enjoy her own world before she loses her freedom.
Would she cry, or would she call him a monster?
A monster. That was what he was.
But she didn't need to know the truth.
If Hope was here, she would recognize the boy as Damion, and even if she did, she wouldn't care.
---
Fenix walked away from the back of the school and onto the auditorium.
He sat on a seat until the second person was nearly done speaking.
He had been away from ten minutes.