Thomas woke to the sound of his alarm beeping for him to wake up. Slapping the snooze button, he rolled away to get more sleep. Relishing the warmth of his sheets and the softness of the mattress he fell asleep instantly.

Five minutes seemed to have passed in three seconds and the tone of the alarm was becoming irritating.

Rolling out of his bed, he hit his nightstand which made the lamp come crashing down on his head with a hollow thud. Groaning miserably, he got up and turned of the alarm.

Turning, he walked to the bathroom in the dark. He was doing pretty good until he tripped over his shoe and was sent sprawling onto the floor. He dragged himself the rest of the way.

After wrestling with his hair to stay down and pulling out his navy blue jacket from the closet he headed out of the dorm. He walked down a flight of stairs and out of the boys dormitories.

It was barely eight in the morning and the roads in Manhattan were clogged with taxis revving their engines against the cold. A dog was barking his head off down the street and a couple were having a heated argument about something Thomas couldn't really hear.

"At least it's sunny," thought Thomas as he mounted the steps to the Eastern Manhattan Academy.

He hated the city. All of the garbage, car exhaust, crime, and there always seemed to be a mad couple yelling at each other. He never understood why his parents made him go to this academy. It just kind of happened.

With the swipe of his keycard, he entered the building trying not to look like a delinquent. He had learned from experience that you can never be too careful about what you looked like in Manhattan.

His stomach yearned for a bagel. The cafeteria seemed way more enticing than going to speak with his Business teacher about failing his test. Thomas could never quite manage to keep his attention on the powerpoints that were assigned. The dyslexia wasn't much help either.

Thinking of bagels and the best way to explain his lack of interest for the class, he walked into a solid wall of muscle.

"Well look who it is," jeered Brandon Cross with a flex of his biceps. Girls at the academy melted at the very thought of this, but it made Thomas want to throw up. His Australian accent and brown hair didn't really help either.

"I was hoping to run into a runt like you, mate, my boys were getting impatient," he said cracking his knuckles loudly.

Thomas tried to slip around him but his buddies closed in to block his path. Backing up, Thomas looked up at Brandon with a smile.

He nodded at his goons, "they follow you everywhere don't they? That's cute." What Thomas lacked in height and strength he made up for in wit. It had gotten him in bad situations before but he wasn't complaining. He thought running from big arrogant jocks spiced up middle school considerably.

"I hope we are getting along over here," said a silky voice from from behind the bullies.

Brandon and his crew turned around to look at Mrs. Ramirez, the old secretary. She could be very sneaky when it came to sniffing out trouble.

"We were just talking to each other, miss." Apparently Brandon was just as scared of her as anyone else.

"Yeah, that's right." Thomas said. His hands got twitchy in these situations. If things went awry it was every man for himself.

She stared at them over her oval-shaped glasses. Thomas could imagine the century-old gears working inside her head. Maybe they would stall and she would be forced to let them go. He didn't notice the smile on his face until it was too late.

"Something funny?" Her eyes were full of hatred.

Wary of what was coming to him, he looked at his shoes and replied. "No ma'am."

She looked like she was stopping herself from doing something. Her body was convulsing slightly and her beady eyes had turned the size of golf balls. The shaking was quickly increasing and her limbs were turning a deep shade of red. She started to run towards the faculty restroom.

She didn't make it really far when she fell onto her knees grunting savagely. Her hair began to smoke and change color while she was kicking off her shoes. Her left foot had disappeared completely while her right foot had been replaced by a dark hoof. Her clothes morphed into a dirty white dress tied at the middle with a golden band. With a pop her hair finished igniting and went up in flame.

Shuffling around, she looked at her left leg and what looked like a prosthetic leg appeared with a slight shimmer. Then she got to her feet looking around at the small group of kids that had gathered to watch her transform.

A small round boy stepped forward and pointed at what used to be Mrs. Ramirez, "Who are you cosplaying as?"

As soon as soon as the sound had left his mouth, there was a tearing sound and he fell face first onto floor with a groan. Red liquid slowly seeped out from under him, soaking his clothes. Blood.

The thing that had replaced Mrs. Ramirez was now laughing, her nails had turned into claws and they were dripping with blood.

Then the crowd realized what was happening; she had killed the boy.

Screaming, pushing, and yelling they ran towards the entrance. The monster didn't seem interested in any of them. It just looked around at the chaos it had created until its eyes landed on Thomas.

"Not again," he thought.