When Ogron awoke, he was in a room with Anagan, Gantlos and Duman. They were unconscious and their motionless bodies were sprawled out on the floor a few feet away. He tried to sit up but when he did he felt a throbbing sensation in his leg, and more in his chest. He moved himself to a wall by pulling on the floor with his hands. His head was spinning from the pain radiating up the left side of his body. He looked at where it was coming from; his leg was bent the wrong way. Great. It was broken. He probably broke a rib or two as well. With each drawn breath he felt as though a serial killer was taunting him, poking and prodding with a blade at his lungs but never stabbing him. For the first time since he regained consciousness, he actually wondered where he was. The room was about the size of the master bedroom of a large house. There was furniture that reminded him of an apartment his family once lived in; it had a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower. It was all very posh, and it was definitely a woman's room. There was nail polish and makeup on the coffee table. Unless a cross-dresser lived there. Or a gay man. Or both. Ogron had no problem with gays and lesbians being gays and lesbians, as long as they didn't do it in front of him. Now, he was wondering who the heck would do this. The last thing he remembered was a lightning strike, and then he woke up here. He tried to concentrate on finding out what had happened. But he hardly knew anything. He was in a big room with three young wizards who didn't even know that each other were wizards. He had broken bones from something. He may be in the lair of a drag queen. Isn't he having so much good luck?

"Well, look who woke up," a woman's voice came from somewhere he didn't see. He looked from left to right, but he saw no one.

"Who are you?" He asked, not the slightest bit scared. The woman laughed.

"The question is not who am I, the question is what are you," she said. A pink cloud was in the center of the room, concealing a figure. As the smoke cleared, the teacher who ducked out of the dining hall slowly walked towards Ogron. He stood up on his right leg and let his left dangle. He never trusted fairies. She looked down at his leg and smiled. "I see you've noticed what I did to you. I'm sorry for it, but I had to make sure you didn't get away." Ogron looked at the others. All unharmed. Maybe she took pity on younger souls.

"What do you want with us?" If she did this to him, she had it coming sooner or later. She walked over to the door and put her ear to it. She was trying to make sure no one was outside eavesdropping.

"Have you wondered how you were so lucky to be in a room with these three?" she gestured out to them. Ogron shook his head. "I made it so."

"Ok, but why?" She looked at the ground and laughed a bit.

"You do realize that this is an all-human school? Attendance by wizards earns Capital Punishment," she said. Ogron was surprised that she knew.

"How do you know about that?" She looked at him and sighed.

"Because I'm a witch," she said. Now Ogron was completely astonished. Witches were hated almost as much as wizards, there was no way that anyone knew or she would be sent off to Cloud Tower, that school in the Magic Dimension. "Listen. For years fairies have segregated against us for something we can't help. We cannot choose our race, but we can choose to fight back." She walked closer to him, using hand motions to emphasize her point. "You and your roommates can retaliate; strike a blow for outcasts everywhere." Ogron looked at her like she was nuts. What exactly did she want him to do? "Those fairies- they're weak, no matter what they say or how they act. Ugh, and those wings. They sit as obvious ways to hinder them. Take out their wings and they're helpless." She put her arm around him and poked him in the chest. "It would be easy for you to tear them off. Then imprison them. Show those insect-people whose boss! Without them, the paladins will leave. We know we're more powerful, why not let them know as well?" She smiled at him like a demon. He shook her off and stumbled back, not caring about his leg anymore. He had to get away from her.

"You… You're nuts! I'm going and telling someone there's a witch here- for all I know, you're planning on saying I thought this thing up!" he started running towards the door, his leg cringing in pain every time it hit the ground. But he didn't slow his pace.

"Oh no you don't!" She ran in front, reeled her leg back and blasted him right in the broken ribs. For a few golden moments, silence followed. He stood frozen with his eyes wide; the air left his lungs as fast as it was coming in. The calm didn't last long, the storm soon came. His eyes clenched shut and he wailed in torment, crumpling to the floor and trying as hard as he could to breathe. The teacher covered her ears; he could have shattered a statue with his voice. His nerves were exploding with stinging pain, and he was yearning for morphine or anything that would numb his broken bones in a split second. His agony caused the other captives to awaken with a start, and they gazed in horror at the scene before them. Their roommate who was so strong had tears streaming down his face. The teacher noticed their shock and couldn't have them know her secret. She laughed like a witch and spoke like a fairy. "I love seeing young wizards fallen from grace and writhing in pain! It speaks to my heart more than any work of art, seeing how pathetic your race really is under the shroud of pride you hold up to fend off the forces of Light." This teacher was a psychopath, relishing in the pain of others. The three younger boys were terrified she would do something like that to them, if Ogron was so much stronger than them, how would they react? Would they die of pain? She looked at them. "Ah, hello. So you've decided to join us? How nice." She noticed them trembling in fear.

"W-What did you do to him?!" Anagan screamed. She smiled and laughed.

"So you've noticed? A powerhouse kick to previously broken ribs can be quite painful, it's true. But trust me, your little friend deserved it," she said. They turned pale and looked at him. His chest had a large depression in it and his leg was bent the wrong way.

"Why did you do that?!" Gantlos whispered. He couldn't find the strength to yell at her. She looked at him and snickered.

"That's my knowledge, not yours," she said. By now, Duman was terrified and trembling. "What's wrong, little Firstie? Are you scared of the big bad fairy?" She laughed. He didn't answer. "I'm talking to you, ankle-biter, have some respect!" No answer. She picked him up by the throat. "Brat, answer me!" He pried at the clamp that closed off his airway, desperately trying to escape. Gantlos and Anagan split off to the sides when she slammed him into the wall, not loosening her grip in the slightest. "I know you speak!"

"Le do thoil… stop a chur (Please… stop)!" he gasped against his crushing larynx. She pulled him off and crashed him into the wall harder. Black began to creep onto his field of vision and tears were forming in his eyes. His head was throbbing.

"In English!" She roared in his face. Whatever made her so mad was definitely not to be taken lightly.

"Ní feídir liom…dtuigeanntú! (I don't… understand you)!" She pointed at Ogron with her left hand, still keeping on Duman's neck.

"You! What did he say?!" She bellowed. Ogron opened his eyes, knowing that she was talking to him.

"He said that he doesn't understand you," he whispered shakily. She had almost destroyed his ability to talk. Her eyes seemed to be the flames of Hell.

"I know you speak English you demon-worshipping bastard! SO TALK!" She pulled him off again and swung him into the wall like a baseball bat. The three unoccupied prisoners watched in horror as they heard a sickening rip. There was a decorative emblem on the wall, and it tore into the muscle tissue on Duman's leg. Blood gushed out of this wound and the room was spinning around him, he was too dizzy to concentrate on speaking Gaelic anymore.

"Just stop it… Please," he said in English. She loosened her grip and smiled. She hurled his limp body across the room, splattering blood on the other wizards and all over her pristine white furniture. Gantlos and Anagan were the color of bleached fabric, gawking at the crimson liquid. Ogron was too out of it to care, even though it was all over his face.

"Good boy, now was that so hard? You sure went to a lot of trouble so no one would know that you spoke English," she said. Anagan and Gantlos looked at each other. They had known Duman for three years, but they had no clue he spoke anything but Gaelic. However, this wasn't their top priority at the moment. Duman had passed out from blood loss; Ogron passed out because he couldn't handle the pain. "You imps have caused me enough trouble for today," she said. She summoned a metal club. Both conscious prisoners braced themselves as the world faded away.

The principal ordered a search party to look for the missing students. There was no possibility that they could have gotten out of the room so fast, they were nowhere close to either of the doors. Ricky and company were the first ones to volunteer, followed by many others. They were given walkie talkies and were told to split up. They went in groups of five to each wing in every building. Ogron had convinced them that the other three weren't bad, just misunderstood. They were looking everywhere for them and calling up and down corridors, but they couldn't find hide nor hair of their AWOL classmates. They were about to give up when one of them smelled something that didn't exactly make sense so far from the kitchen: burning flesh. He wrinkled up his nose and started sniffing the air.

"Uh, dude, what are you doing?" Ricky asked him. The kid looked at him.

"Do you smell that? Something weird is in this place," he said looking around. The others smelled it, too. It wasn't a terrible smell, but it was strong. They sniffed the air and began to follow their noses. They wound corners and ascended stairways and snaked in and out of classrooms. Now, the stench was mixed with something else, it smelled like iron. Blood. They looked at each other and grew more worried with each step. The scent grew stronger as they walked on until they found a hallway with dust, cobwebs and ashes everywhere. It had no furnishings whatsoever; no lamps, rugs, tables, paintings, display cases, bookshelves, nothing except the ruins of these things. The floor and walls were charred and creaky. Now they remembered where they were. The fifth floor of the north wing of the main building had caught fire seven years ago. Because of its isolated location, no students or teachers could get out. It was condemned and suicidal to enter, but they couldn't tear it down without jeopardizing the structure of the entire castle. So here it stood ashes and all with the burned bodies of its victims still nestled firmly inside. Someone had a flashlight and when he turned it on, they saw skeletons piled on the floor, they had been trying to escape when they were burned alive. The group felt an uncontrollable wave of sadness and mourning wash over them. They never had a proper burial, their families never had last goodbyes, and no one even knew how many people died that fateful day. Everyone was brought to tears. They stood still and silent, quietly crying into their hands. Ricky bent down and picked up the skull of a young teenager. The clothes were still on his body and he had a wallet with him, made of leather and untouched by fire and decay. Inside were small bills, coins and pictures. One was of a family, one of a young child holding a baby, one of a boy around nine years old with a five year old on his lap. He held up the picture to the skull; a perfect match. He knew who this was instantly, the face bore great resemblance. He remembered his friend Blake talking about how he never sees his older brother anymore. He never did say why. Inside the wallet was something else, a piece of paper that said not to open it until eighteen. Ricky opened it up and began to read. The date was the day before the fire.

"Dear Blake,

I can't believe you're already turning eighteen! I remember the first day Mom and Dad came home with you. It was the happiest day of my life. I used to take care of you all the time when we were younger; maybe that's why you're so messed up. You always used to want to go on adventures together, so I'd take you to the woods behind the cottage. You would always pretend to be in another country, or a pirate, or an alien. It would entertain you for hours. Well, now that I'm older, I wanted to take you wherever you want for a graduation present. I'm writing this when I'm only twelve, but whatever, it's a plan for the future. You're the most important person in my life; I would do anything for you. I love you, little bro.

Until we get to go on our own adventure,

-Allister"

Ricky could no longer hold back the tears of sorrow. He knew Blake missed his brother, but he had no idea where he was. He could only hope he was up in Heaven, singing alongside his fellow angels. Ricky felt a hand on his shoulder; one of his friends looked down and smiled a sad smile. He put everything back in the wallet. He decided to give it to Blake, even though he wasn't eighteen yet. He deserved to know how much his brother loved him. He placed Allister's skull against the wall and pulled out a sharpie he always had in his pocket. On the wall, he wrote a short memoir. Everyone regained composure and got back to the task at hand. They had to find the others before the same fate befell upon them. They made their way down the hall through the bodies in solemn silence until they found a door that was positively oozing the smell they had followed here. They were hesitant to open it; the scent could have been leftover from the fire. But it smelled fresh. They stared at it and waited for someone to volunteer. Ricky walked up, rested his hand on the handle, took a deep breath, and opened it. It slowly creaked open and the flashlight holder shined it in the room. What they saw shocked them. It was their missing classmates. But not as they last saw them. Gantlos had a large black and blue bump on the side of his head, Anagan had burn marks and cuts all over, most notably one burn that covered half of his face, Duman's neck was bruised and his leg was ripped open, Ogron looked like he had a few broken bones. They were all bound, gagged and unconscious. They were covered in splotches of blood. The search party was all worried sick about them, they had no clue what happened.

"Well, that explains the smell," someone said quietly. They were frozen in place. Nothing like this had ever crossed their minds; they never thought any of their comrades would be hurt so badly. Someone obviously did it on purpose.

"Are they, like, ya know," one slowly pointed at them, not daring to say what he thought. Ricky checked each of their pulses and breathing one by one.

"I think they're alive, but just barely," he said. Gantlos began to moan and writhe in place, startling his rescuers.

"What is he doing?!" one said as he ducked behind another. Slowly his eyes fluttered open, but he couldn't focus on anything, his vision was all blurry. He blinked a few times at the light in his eyes and he could finally start to see. He thought it was that wacko teacher again and shot back against the wall, eyes wide, breathing hard and quivering. Most of the search party backed up, surprised at his show of fear. He was never afraid. Not even during that fire. Whatever happened must have been traumatizing. Ricky was the only one who stayed close to him.

"Don't worry, we won't hurt you," he calmly said as he put a caring hand on the younger teen's shoulder. Gantlos gradually stopped shaking and his breathing returned to normal. He still looked scared, though. Ricky reached behind his head and untied the cloth over his mouth.

"T-Thanks," he said, still a bit rattled.

"What happened to you guys?" Ricky asked as two other people began to untie his wrists and ankles. Gantlos looked at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"I… can't remember," he said. Ricky looked at the bump on his head.

"Could that have something to do with this?" He reached up and touched it, but Gantlos quickly slapped his hand away.

"Ouch, quit it!" he said. Ricky was sitting and took the flashlight from his friend. He shined it in Gantlos' eyes, but he squinted and looked away.

"Don't do that. I know it hurts, but let me see something," Ricky said. Gantlos tried to look back at him, but he just couldn't do it. He covered his eyes with his arm.

"I can't, it's too hard," he said. Ricky gave the flashlight back and rubbed his chin. He clapped his hands abruptly, causing Gantlos to jump. "What was that for?!"

"I think you have a concussion, you're pretty sensitive to light and sound," he replied. "Guys, call the principal, tell him we found them and they're all pretty badly hurt." The person holding the walkie talkie shook his head yes and stepped into the hallway. "Geez, where'd all the blood come from?" Gantlos looked around. His roommates and he were covered in it. Images flashed through his mind, Duman getting swung at the wall, his leg getting cut, him being thrown at the other wall. Blood pouring over them like a waterfall. He shook his head and shivered. Those were some bad memories. Ricky noticed and was still surprised that he was actually capable of showing emotion. "Remember something?"

"Yeah," Gantlos said. "Duman. She swung him at a wall. His leg got cut on something, she threw him across the room," He clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to remember it. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Who's she?" Ricky asked. So whoever hurt them was a girl. Gantlos shook his head and looked Ricky in the eyes. "I understand," he said. Now, the guy who called the principal came back inside.

"Mr. Reynolds is coming with the nurses, they're going to try to make sure these guys get better," he said.

"Good," Ricky replied. So he wasn't a total ass after all. He really did care about Blake, and making sure his classmates were alright. Now Gantlos looked sick and he rested on the wall. "Are you ok?"

"I'm really dizzy all of a sudden."

"You should probably rest, don't worry. We'll make sure you guys are safe," he said. Gantlos closed his eyes, it would have happened anyway. He was out like a light in two seconds flat. "That was fast." They heard noises down the hall. The principal and nurses were running towards them. Wheels squeaked along; they had brought gurneys.

"Where are they? What's wrong with them?" the principal asked. People were in the middle of untying the others.

"Right here, they're all pretty beat up. They're alive, but just barely."

"As long as we can get them back, how they are now doesn't matter. Do you know what's wrong with them?" Ricky looked at his friend, and the boys he had hated for so long.

"Only a little. All of the blood is from Duman's leg; it's got a huge gash in it. Gantlos may or may not have a concussion, but I don't know anything else."

"This is terrible; we need to get them to the infirmary, on the double!" Some of the guys lifted the victims onto the gurneys, careful to mind their wounds. Ricky helped Ogron. He gently lifted his friend into his arms. He looked so helpless, not to mention he didn't look as cold hearted. This was when he noticed the crimson line drawing out of Ogron's mouth. He softly set him down but even despite his care, it still hurt Ogron. He groaned as his back came in contact with the gurney, his ribs still aching. But Ricky didn't know about this, of course. They all made their way out of the abandoned hallway, taking one last look at it. Outside, most of the students had already gotten word of the condition of the missing students. They lined the halls, hoping to get a better look. They whispered rumors of wizards and werewolves tearing into the flesh of students.

"Maybe Duman's dad got angry and hurt them all!"

"Maybe Duman went psycho on us or something!" They all blamed him because of his strange behavior. Before the nurses revealed the wizards, Ricky and his friends tried to get everyone to go away.

"Nothing to see here!"

"Leave, guys. We need space so we can help them!" They tried for a while, but no one would budge. They gave up and allowed them to be sped through the halls, earning as much publicity as Drake after getting sloppy drunk. They all went silent as they noticed the severity of the injuries. Most of them didn't even know that kind of stuff was possible. They all eyed Duman. If he hadn't done this… who had? One of them stopped Ricky who was running after the nurses. He looked at him like he wanted to rip his throat out.

"What do you want?!" he shouted. The guy was stunned; Ricky was never mean, always kind to everyone.

"What happened to them?"

"Nothing you need to know about." He sprinted to catch up. They had already made their way down to the first floor and to the medical wing. It was a big place; not your ordinary nurses office. It reeked of rubbing alcohol and hospital fumes. The fairies tried to use magic to help them, but it wouldn't work. They all looked at them, scared for their lives. Someone was trying to keep them from receiving help. Duman continued to bleed out and every breath that Ogron took could slit a hole in his lungs. Gantlos and Anagan's injuries were not life-threatening, so they left them until they could figure this out. Their magic had never failed them before. They had to think hard to remember human methods of treatment before it was too late.

"This patient is going into shock!" One screamed. Everyone looked. Duman's pulse was declining rapidly and his skin was looking like the color of ashes. He had lost too much blood. They started CPR, but it wasn't working.

"You, out, now!" The principal yelled at the humans. They ran out, but Ricky heard electricity and stopped to look. They had gotten out the AED.

"Clear!" Everyone stopped touching him as the nurse put the paddles on his chest. His body jolted up, but his pulse remained still. As they prepared to try again, Ricky's friend grabbed his wrist; he wanted to get as far away from this as possible.

"Come on!" He yelled. Ricky had gone into a daze. All he ever did was make fun of these kids, and now one was going to die through no fault of his own. As he was dragged away, tears streaking his face, he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Guys."

:| Ok, this is embarrassing. I just noticed that there were a bunch of mistakes in the past chapters. I forgot to type a few words so some of the sentences don't make sense. I don't know where they are, though, so if you spot one, PM me and I'll fix it.