"You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough."
― Mae West
All was quiet. The halls of the school stood barren, save one teenaged boy. He stood at a menacing 6' 1", weighing slightly over 300 lbs., and he was hearing indistinct, whispering voices. Theralus stared down the hall, stricken with fear. He had heard of people hearing voices in the most awkward places, and their stories never ended well. He gave his chestnut brown hair a run-through with his fingers, which slightly calmed him.
The voices stopped for a moment, and he felt the feeling come back to his legs. He walked down the hall, took a left, and went into the boys' restroom. He took a brief look around, and took three brisk steps towards the sink. He looked in the mirror, and studied his eyes for a moment. His eyes were his best feature, hands down. They were the most relaxed blue, showered with flecks of a yellowish green, and the pupil was surrounded by a solid ring of hazel.
He began to run warm water in the sink. He knew that a few quick splashes to the face would calm him. After doing so, he gazed into the mirror once more, and shouted in terror. Now, his eye sockets were as barren and dark as the abyss.