“Poor Reginald!” he’d squeaked at every new torment that was described. Eden wasn’t quite so thrilled anymore. Unless...was there some moral to this? Some way that they could – alas and alack! – help Reginald the Wretched?

Eden bit back an aghast little gasp when the cowled boy handed him the candle, and he clutched it with utmost piety. He looked like a very reverent, fluffy bunny – all wide eyes and rabbit teeth, a mess of a frazzled curls. Where once a big smile had been, there was a tight line of stoicism. He’d been given something very important. He glanced around at the other underclassmen, looking perhaps for moment like he wanted to pass it off – but no! He, Edenai Andriocus Aiello, was entrusted with it. Surely the selection was of utmost importance.

Well...somehow. He was certain. Nothing ever happened by coincidence.

Like Ruhi said, he’d have to be brave. But it was a trial not to let his excitement transmute into dread as he warily eyed the mouth of the shed.

“What...what happens if it goes out?” he piped up, meek as a mouse. In the dim glow of candlelight, he leaned in to try and get a better look at the hooded figure. Ghosts, maybe? The victims of Reginald’s rampages?

"You lot are making no sense, this is complete and utter nonsense." Horace was dumbfounded and confused. He didn't believe a word of what these upper classmen were saying. "I will have no part in this stupid, juvenile hazing."

He shot a look at the obvious leader of the group. "You must be pretty lonely and bored to go through all this trouble to scare a few under classmen." Horace never saw the point in hazing, to him it was just a way to pull a few quick pranks without much thought. It was more of a human tradition, well in his mind at least.

Horace wanted to get out of there, but he didn't want to leave the younger students with the nutcases." You children should take my advice and leave. This is not going anywhere and this is just an excuse to laugh at you." Horace had enough of of the older students thinking they were better than the other students. Sure, he thought respect was needed, but there was a line. His time was up, he wanted to get out of there fast. Horace pushed his way through the hoods and preceded to leave. He put his collar up a bit more higher, all that stupid could have been contagious.

(( This is my last post. I hope it was okay to have him leave. ))

(( For you, I shall make the exception! ))

Lawrence opened his mouth to speak, but before he had a chance Horace pushed through the croud of older students and stalked off.
Lawrence sniffed distainfully, his unseen eyebrows raised in shock. "Not quite so lonely as you'll be once word of your...refusal...gets out. But it's your funeral, I suppose." The older boy turned his back on Horace's retreating form, and addressed Eden's question.

"If the candle goes out, then I suppose you'll just have to let your eyes adjust to the darkness. Now, if we're all done asking questions and running away like frightened babies..." Lawrence let the words hang in the air as he pointed his hand towards the open door.

--------

Fowler stood staring at the door gaping open before him. With the darkness of the woods around them, and the deep shadows of the storage shed in front of him, it seemed as if all light had vacated the immediate area. Horace's hasty retreat did nothing to calm his nerves. He'd listened hard to the story the older students had told, and while it seemed highly improbable there was a mutated student roaming the school grounds at night, there was a part of his mind that was thoroughly convinced it was one hundred percent true. The boy's body trembled a little, partially because of the chilly rain and partially due to the growing fright in the pit of his stomach.

What if...what if he's already in there?! he thought to himself, gulping as he stared into the inky black that threatened to swallow anyone who dared step inside the shed. He was thoroughly tempted to turn and run after the other boy, but his thoughts strayed to what could happen to him if he did. If something didn't get him in the woods, the stories the older students would tell about him most certainly would. He'd be rediculed for being a stuttering crybaby for the next ten years, possibly even beyond...and what would Ellie think? Fowler gulped again, and furrowed his brow. He couldn't let anything like that happen.

"C-c-come on, you g-g-guys. W-we're n-not sc-sc-scared of a s-silly st-st-story l-like th-th-that, are w-w-we?" He took two steps into the storage shed and turned back to the other students.

"W-we c-c-can do th-this! Wh-who's w-w-with m-me?"

Well! Ruhi Ha was not the kind of girl to be shuffled, cowering like... like... She struggled to come up with an adequate comparison. Something very cowardly, she decided firmly. She nudged the two younger students out of the way, pushing past them into the shed. No dark, terrifying, rather ominous spaces were going to daunt her! Not at all.

She didn't go very far before stopping, pretending to fiddle with the buttons on her coat but really just too nervous to go all the way in by herself.

“See in the dark? That’s kinda – hmm...”

Eden frowned at the blunt answer. This wasn’t how things worked. There were meanings upon meanings in things like this, didn’t these ghosts understand that? Maybe he was supposed to figure out the sneaky symbolism to the candle all by himself.

He scuttled into the doorway behind Ruhi, peeking over her shoulder in the cobwebby depths. He held the candle aloft into the darkness. He stood almost on top of the smaller girl, his chin brushing her hair. The guttering wick didn’t seem to illuminate much, no matter how he squinted in the dusty yellow light. A wet breeze rolled in that felt like a cold hand raking down his back.

“Do you see anything?” Again that silly stage whisper. Eden was quite a bit more afraid than he wanted to let on. But Ruhi was big and brave enough for the both of them. If Reggie the Wretched jumped out, she’d deck him right in the stomach, just like she did to that boy in the library. He hoped that would be enough.

Ruhi squinted, peering into the somewhat less inky darkness now that it was illuminated by the candle. There wasn't much to see, really. Just the inside of the shed, and precious little of that as well. Her mouth pulled into a frown. If this Reggie was in here, she couldn't see him.

"Nothing," she said back, not bothering to whisper. Whispering had the unfortunate side effect of making it harder to hide if her voice shook. She motioned to Cecil and Fowler to come over and stand with the both of them-- there was no sense in them staying split up, after all.

In the quiet and the dark, with a roof above her and four walls around her, it was much easier for her barely-teenaged mind to start to work up all sorts of terrible theories. Perhaps it would have been more sensible to go off after that great giant ginger boy, after all. No, no, he was a coward. Surely there was nothing that would happen here tonight that she couldn't handle. After all, it was against the rules to horrifically maim younger students.

Wasn't it?

Yes yes of course it was. They were foreigners, not barbarians. She reminded herself of this, very firmly, and also reminded herself that she had a mean right hook so even if they should prove to be terrifically uncivilized.

As Fowler took those last few steps into the darkness that was the shed, he heard Cecil whimpering behind him. "I don't think I can go in there."

The red haired first year turned to his friend, narrowing his eyes slightly as he twitched his mouth. "D-d-don't l-let th-those ol-older k-k-kids h-hear you, th-th-they'll th-think y-you're j-j-just a w-w-whiney b-baby. C-c-come on, th-there's n-n-nothing h-here t-t-to h-hurt us." Fowler caught hold of Cecil's coatsleve and tugged his friend into the dark. It wouldn't occur to him until much later that he was usually the one to stand back and cower.

--------

Once the younger students were successfully inside the shed, Lawrence began to slowly close the door. "This door won't be opened again until the sun rises in the morning. Enjoy yourselves, if you can." The door creaked and groaned loudly as it shut the students away from all those on the outside, until finally they were sealed away in the inky black. Lawrence draped the chains Angus had brough over the door handle, letting them fall noisly against the wooden frame of the building.

The older boy stepped back, staring at the places where the younger students had been. "Now all we have to do is wait fifteen minutes, and then the fun can really begin," he whispered with a menacing grin.

"Fun?" Naul finally spoke up, a little slurred, sharp features lopsidedly forming something of an incredulous expression. He'd harassed plenty of younger students in his time, both on and off the Lawn. He'd made quite a career out of it once. This, however, was still a fuzzy, mysterious event. Something he knew would be keeping him up all night in defiance of his classes in the morning.

"What exactly do you have up your sleeve, then?" The dark-eyed boy hadn't exactly read the entire invitation, having stopped somewhere in the middle in amusement, "Besides the obvious sleepover in the shed, of course."

“Shh! Don’t be scared.”

He flapped his hand bonelessly at the other boys – he’d seen his mother do it to shush up moody ladies over tea and biscuits. If it worked over porcelain china, there was a small chance it might work in sheds musty with old terror.

“There’s absolutely nothing to be scared of. It’s just a...a...” A completely eerie little corner of the school, perchance packed to the rafters with ghosties and ghoulies and and – “a dusty old gardening shed. Nothing in here but dirt and flower pots.”

Eden hauled up a smile in the buttery candle glow, twitching anxious at the corners. He stepped back further into the black depths of the shed, eyes darting around in a hope to catch any detail the faint illumination could offer. The dusty expanse of the far wall collided with his back, coaxing a muffled whimper, a sudden cringing tense-up as he waited for Reggie the Wretched to come barreling out and eat him first.

Martyrs. That’s what those people were called.

When no claws popped out of the blackness, he heaved a quiet sigh. His watery little smile was gone, replaced by the fuzzy look of a boy who very much didn’t want to be here right now. He let the candle droop down to his side, swathing his frowning face in darkness.

“Um. At least we’re out of the rain?” he offered meekly.

"Yes, Lawrence, what will we be doing after fifteen minutes? I'm afraid I don't quite know."

She had recognized Horace just as he'd left. The familiar voice and gargantuan height tipped her off once he had differentiated himself from the small crowd of terrified first-years clustered at the front, with their big weepy eyes. She knew this tale wouldn't have scared her at that age, but not much had ever scared Laur. Even as a child, scary stories from Charlie, which got better as he grew older (from 'And in the closet, there were....too many socks! And they all fell out and covered the girl!' to more sinister tales of ghosts and hatchers on the loose) didn't scare her after she was old enough to speak in full sentences. While this was rather late, as Laur hadn't really talked until she could speak in full sentences, these children huddling together about some silly ghost story were over twice that age. Silly, silly.

She gathered her cloak around her more tightly, and waited for further instructions from Lawrence. It was rather strange being the only girl present, and so much smaller than the other participants. Hopefully Horace hadn't recognized her, if he was so opposed to playing a bit of fun with impressionable small people. It wasn't like anything dangerous was really going to happen. He was being far too uptight, she decided. This was going to be terrific, in a terrifying and terrible sort of way.