Author's Note: I am not an expert on these subjects, forgive me and don't take it too seriously, please. I am just trying to write a horror story here.

Chapter 8

It had seemed Clovis and his class were meant to never receive any attention from Padmé Amidala.

Were it boredom or woe, something always took Padmé from being truly present in her psychology class.

This day would at last be different.

Though when she first seated she could not stop thinking about Anakin, his darkened face, and all the killings and weird things that were happening, Clovis finally managed to catch her full attention.

She read the subject for today in the board and a sense of odd morbid curiosity invaded her.

"What do you know," Mr. Clovis asked, his back in his students as he finished writing on the board with a piece of white chalk. "About schizophrenia?"

A few people gave their opinions, Clovis responded. Some students made questions, Clovis again answered. The class was going as usual, till Clovis was surprised by his favorite student.

Padmé raised her hand, a bit unsurely; Clovis walked to her, smiling encouragingly. "Yes, Miss Amidala?"

"I was wondering… after hearing everyone's opinions… Is that like a split personality disorder?"

Clovis looked fascinated. "Well, not exactly." He answered. "Schizophrenia is a mental disorder, that unlike popular believe, doesn't revolve around the person being dangerous. The individual often shows abnormal behavior, and an incapability to recognize what's real and what isn't. They might hear voices within their own heads, caused by their own imaginations. They often hallucinate, but they do not have more than one personality."

Padmé paid all of her attention to his answer. Her curiosity growing and her mind burning. "Well, then," she finally asked. "It's impossible for a person to have more than one personality?"

Clovis was excited by her new interest in himself and his class, and his face could hardly disguise it. He didn't care about going off subject, he just wanted to keep her interest in himself. "A multiple personality disorder," Clovis said, still standing next to Padmé. "Is an extremely rare case, but certainly possible."

Padmé took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"It is a complex psychological condition," Clovis went on. "It can develop after a person, usually a very young one, experiences great trauma. Something too violent or painful to accept, to assimilate. So they create a new personality; one on which they can lay all blame and that way go on with their lives. It can be dangerous… no doubt," he took a second, silence falling on the excited classroom. It seemed that even for a professional that subject was delicate and hard to cover. "The 'alter' or other personality can be anything… a different sex, age even race or nationality. It has been showed on men who committed treason against their country, and knowing they'll be executed, they develop another personality. That new personality can have a name, a different voice making it almost unrecognizable even for the individual's closest person."

When an hour passed and the class was over, Clovis couldn't help but to notice the face of annoyance and displeasure Padmé made. His vanity convinced him that she was upset about leaving him so soon, as he himself was upset for that. He never imagined his previously bad student was dying to learn more information, information only he could give.

"If I would've known this subject was so interesting to you," Clovis said, again keeping her from leaving as they were the only remaining people on the otherwise empty classroom. "I would've led with that at the beginning of the semester." His mischievous grin couldn't make her uncomfortable at the moment.

"Mr. Clovis," she said, her face filled with seriousness. "I never believed in psychology, I must be honest… And I hardly understand a lot of the terms and wording you use during your class… So I ask, I just need a yes or no answer."

"Of course, my dear. I'll answer anything you want," he took both of her hands between his own.

"Can—can a person heal… I mean, c-can they get rid of the psychological disorder?"

If he wouldn't been so enticed by the warmth of her hands, and the beauty of her face, he would've noticed the fear with which she spoke. "No," he answered simply. His answer honest and professional, yet his mind struggling to stay in subject; images of that young girl beneath him and on his desk suddenly running wild in his dirty mind.

Likewise, Padmé was so immersed on the subject at hand, she didn't recognize the burning desire on Clovis's eyes. His answer to such important question only causing a knot to form on her throat, all hope for the future dying and fear at her loved one at risk.

"Miss Amidala," Clovis said after a long silence in which they never stopped touching. "These are too somber subjects for a girl such as yourself… I'd lie if I say this doesn't make you more interesting though…"

His English accent was nothing short of charming, the seductiveness of his penetrating green glance would've been hard to resist for most girls—but not Padmé. She was not only hopelessly in love with another man, but she also was someone who lived in fear, in a constant state of paranoia… sexual thoughts were not something she could carry or enjoy at the moment.

"Mr. Clovis," she said, shaking her head, now aware of the older man's intentions. "Stop. I have a boyfriend," she coldly said.

"Oh," he didn't look surprised, like she just informed him that the sky is blue. "Of course you do," he laughed. "Why wouldn't you? You are by far the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, Miss. I'd be shocked to know you were alone—"

"Then why are you doing this?" she interrupted, struggling in his arms that now were clasping her.

"I can hardly give you a reasonable explanation," he breathed on her neck, his lips grazing her skin. "I suppose it is human nature. We've spoken about it all semester my dear, if only you would've paid more attention to class…" he laughed ironically. His laughter sounding like thunder in her mind. "Freudian…" he actually managed to kiss her skin, she flinched but was unable of breaking free. "A man has needs, just like a woman…. And when they're together—"

"Mr. Clovis! Stop!" She felt smothered in his embrace and she wanted nothing more than to break free, something Clovis was bent on avoiding.

She wanted more than anything to avoid his lips on her own, she knew she would hate life after that and would never recover. She screamed louder, but he held her steady over his desk, rushing his hands on her shoulders, keeping her prisoner. "I know you want this," he said and his face neared her own.

She was about to finally scream for help, when another cry invaded the room. "Get away from her!" Anakin cried by the door; his face carrying the darkness that had previously scared Padmé—and to an even greater degree.

Padmé felt her heart stopped beating and her blood turned cold. "Anakin…" she breathed, terrified, finally free from Clovis's arms.

No other words were said, Anakin practically ran, not to get his girlfriend safe, but to end the man that had put her below his body against her will.

Padmé could only scream Anakin's name and sometimes Clovis's as they savagely fought.

Anakin punched at Clovis's face repeatedly, at each punch grunting like a savage, like a wild animal, some dangerous predator. Soon his fists were covered in Clovis's blood, yet the other man didn't complain much, even landing a few comeback punches on the younger man.

"Please stop!" Padmé cried, her voice broken and her face pale in fear. At the moment of her plead, Anakin had Clovis's throat in one hand, while his other one was about to hit the harasser's face again—he stopped in midair, his face softening for a second, locking eyes with the woman he loved… till Clovis grunted and moaned in pain—Anakin hit him in the face again, more blood coming off of Clovis as a result. "Anakin!" Padmé begged. Her plead seemed to infuriate him, as he dropped Clovis to the floor and began kicking him—his stomach, his manhood, his head.

Padmé now knew pleads were useless, but she didn't know what else to do… She reached for her lover, the man she once thought capable of nothing but tenderness and passion, and she saw on his eyes, his intentions, his thirst for more blood and his lack of regret. There was cold murder in his eyes.

Thankfully for Clovis, and Anakin's innocence, the sound of a loud concurred halfway reached the classroom. You could hear people talking, and laughing as usual; and it would've been impossible for them to not hear if Anakin continued beating the Professor. Yet he couldn't stop. He was about to pick Clovis from the floor to continue his merciless attacks, when Padmé, still afraid of him and trembling, put her arms around him. "Please, stop! I beg you, don't do this! Stop!" He listened… he was still tense as a demon but he complied.

"Oohh…" Clovis moaned on the floor.

"Anakin, what have you done!" Padmé cried, disgusted at the sight of that barely alive man on the floor.

"I'm sorry…" he muttered. His voice sounding like his usual self. Pain, sorrow and even guilt slipping through.

"I have to get him to the hospital."

"You?" he jealously said, though the darkness didn't fully return.

"You go first…" she said, trembling—clearly hating herself. "People can't know about this. Go quietly and I will make Clovis think of an excuse."

"Why?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

Because I don't need people knowing of you almost killing a man when the police is looking for a murderer! "Because there's no reason and you'll get in trouble."

"We need to go to the police," he cooly said.

Oh my head will explode! "What?" she asked, shaking her head.

"He sexually harassed you!" Anakin cried. "We must—"

"No," she said, dryly. "It—it was barely a thing," she said and Anakin's mouth dropped. "He didn't even kiss me… no one will believe me."

Amidst his faint state, Clovis smirked, causing murder to show on Anakin's eyes again, but only for a second. "Fine," he tiredly said. "But you go to class, I'll take him to the hospital. Really, I can take care of him."

I'm sure you would… "No. Please, Ani."

He sighed, reached over, gave her a small kiss and left.

Padmé waited a long time, till she knew the hallways would be empty and everyone would be in class. At last, she helped Clovis stand up, letting him lean on her shoulder, practically carrying him till they reached her car.

"Thank you," he said when Padmé was driving to the hospital. She hated him beyond his inappropriate conduct towards her.

"I'm not doing this for you," she harshly stated.

"Still," Clovis said, his weak voice sending her into a state of furiousness. "I appreciate it. I knew you liked me—"

The car stopped abruptly, causing Clovis to hit his face on the windshield. "Let's get one thing straight, Clovis," Padmé said with vehemence.

"I am glad you at least lost the 'Mr.' formality," he smiled and his blood-stained teeth disgusted Padmé.

"As I was saying," she said, annoyed. "I'm not doing this for you. I am not stupid, I know the consequences I would face if I denounce you. You are a College professor, a wealthy man, a foreigner with a clean record, and you left no marks on my body."

"Unlike your hot-headed boyfriend," he snarled, looking at his face in the mirror with true horror.

"It'd be almost impossible for me to make a case, unless I move influences…" she threatened, and he immediately took the hint.

"I think I see your true intentions, my dear."

She rolled her eyes with disgust at his endearment. "Yes," she said, looking ahead at the endless highway. "You must be aware of my parentage."

"Your name alone made me aware of it, my darling."

"Just so, Clovis. My father is an important senator. I come from a family of politicians. And no matter your clean record, if I tell what you did, you'd immediately go to jail."

"But I won't," he almost smiled.

"No, as long as you never mention what my boyfriend did to you."

"We have a deal, beautiful," he offered her his bruised hand but she never even glanced at him. A part of her, the part that was slowly losing sanity, wished Anakin had actually killed him.

AN: Clovis keeps getting away with his damn harassment… but don't think that will go on forever—not even for longer.

Happy holidays everyone! I am sorry I cannot give you a more cheerful story, but this has been wickedly fun to write! Was it fun to read? Please review!