The girl in front of Vivian was drawing rude pictures of the teacher again. The drawings weren't that good, nor were they creative, but it was the most entertaining thing that was happening at this moment.

Vivian was sitting in a history class, watching as the majority of the other students stared blankly at anything that wasn't the teacher. The teacher, a dull woman named Mrs Tate, was pointing at various countries on her giant map, seemingly oblivious to the fact that not a single one of her pupils were listening. Including the newest member.

Omrys had marched into school, introduced himself to the teacher and sat down at a desk. He had looked Mrs Tate in the eyes and told her a plausible story, and for some strange reason, she had believed it. Vivian had discovered later that Omrys could hypnotise people.

Omrys was in disguise as the son of a family friend who had transferred to this school because his parents preferred him to have an education here in this country. He even put on a fake accent that convinced everyone, except for Vivian.

“You look ridiculous,” Vivian muttered to Omrys from where she sat in the desk beside his.

“We’re wearing matching outfits, Vivian. If I'm ridiculous, you’re ridiculous,” he retorted.

Like most of the schools in this area, both public and private, Wesslin High had its very own uniform. The outfit was a generic navy-blue and grey affair, but even with the uncomfortable lack of style, Omrys still seemed to be attracting the attention of Vivian’s classmates. To her annoyance, she soon realised it was because of his sudden appearance as a desirable bachelor. If only they knew that his personality hardly matched his appearance.

“It’s called a uniform,” Vivian muttered back.

“It's stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

Omrys shrugged. “Fair enough, if I was smart, I wouldn't be stuck with an angsty brat.”

Vivian opened her mouth to started a retort but Mrs Tate had noticed their bickering. Reluctantly, Vivian settled back into her seat. She didn't feel like visiting the dean's office twice in one month. She adjusted her glasses. Usually she didn't bother wearing them, since most of the subjects she cared about where close enough to see easily. Mrs Tate, however, had insisted that her class was also important. Vivian had yet to learn anything helpful.

Three students started up a quiet conversation just behind them, discussing a strange murder that occurred in the last week. Glancing back, Vivian realised that it was Anne, a police officer’s kid. She liked to spread stories and rumours. Some of them were true, some of them weren't. Vivian knew this from first-hand experience.

They continued their class in silence until the bell rang for lunch. The students streamed out of the classroom, eager for a temporary escape.

“Please just tell me what your wishes are so that I never have to come back to this awful place again,” Omrys complained.

Vivian glared at him. “You didn't have to come.”

Omrys stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway and frowned. “That's odd.”

“What?” Vivian demanded. She looked around, at the bland wooden floors and the scratched blue walls. The hallway was almost deserted, but that wasn't unusual. It was a sunny day, so most of the students would be outside.

“Smells like a Bazelo,” Omrys finally decided.

“Excuse me?”

“It's a low mid-ranking demon that feeds on live flesh. Children and animals are its preference.”

Vivian stared at him, wide-eyed. “Is that bad?”

Omrys shrugged. “Usually it prefers smaller children. Do you have any animals around?”

Vivian hesitated. “We have a school cat.”

“Not anymore.” He began to walk away.

Vivian hurried after him. “That's horrible... Can we do anything?”

Omrys sighed. “You screamed at a Morcus Rat, what are you going to do when an ugly little cannibal tries to get you?”

“Can you... get rid of it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“What if I ordered you to?”

“I would hate you even more than I already do.”

Vivian huffed. “Fine. That cat should have died like, ten years ago, anyway.”

There was silence for a while. Then, suddenly, Omrys stopped walking. “Damn it.”

“What's wrong?”

Omrys turned his heel and started down in the opposite direction, taking long strides.

Vivian’s shoes squeaked on the smooth floor as she trotted after him. “Where are you going?”

Omrys glanced at her, irritation clear on his face. “I have a soft spot for felines.”

“A cat enthusiast, huh?”

Omrys said nothing. Vivian guessed he didn't like people knowing that he had feelings.

“Where are we going to find this Bazelo thing?” Vivian asked him as they rounded a corner. Only one of the lights was working in this hallway, giving the space a sinister effect.

“Follow were the stench leads,” Omrys replied.

“An adventure. I'm excited.”

“There's a high possibility of you dying, you know?”

“I have faith in you. Speaking of which, what happens to you if I die?”

“If I cause your death or fail to protect you in an easily preventable situation my spiritual essence is punished for a few centuries, and if you die and it is not my fault I am released from our contract.”

“Better not let me die then, huh?”

“The torture to my essence might be easier to deal with. Perhaps I should kill you right now.”

“You wouldn't dare,” Vivian said, mostly sure of her retort.

Omrys glanced at her slyly, his pine-gold eyes glinting in the gloom of the hallway. “Wouldn't I?”

Vivian laughed uncertainly and increased her pace.

They wandered through the hallway for a few minutes until Omrys stopped. At first, Vivian didn't realise and kept walking.

“Hey, human. Here.”

Vivian turned back, slightly embarrassed. Omrys was standing before a door she had never noticed before.

“Is it in there?” She asked him nervously.

Omrys tried the door, but it was locked.

“Hmm…”

“We could get the keys from the janitor,” Vivian suggested.

“Janitor wont have keys for this door, and besides, I don't need keys.”

Vivian folded her arms. “How do you plan to get in, then?”

Her question was answered when Omrys stepped back, raised his foot and kicked down the door.

“Hey!” Vivian exclaimed. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn't destroy my school!”

Omrys rolled his eyes. “Shut up, human. Look.”

Sighing, Vivian peered into the doorway. The door opened into more hallway. Which was odd. She didn't recognise the place, and couldn't think of anywhere this hallway would lead to.

“Hang on,” Vivian frowned. “The hockey turf should be here. There definitely isn't supposed to be another hallway.”

“Fascinating,” Omrys drawled, stepping through the remains of the door.

“You're going in there? This place shouldn't even exist, what if you get trapped?”

Omrys paused, turning back to her. “You said it yourself, it's an adventure. And what fun is life without an adventure every now and then?”

Vivian hesitated. “Well…”

“Are you coming or not?” Omrys demanded.

Vivian glanced around, but there was nobody else in sight. She looked back at Omrys, realising he was waiting for her. Thinking herself mad, she clenched her fists in determination and stepped over the splinters of the door, joining the djinn in the hallway that should not have been there.

“That was very dramatic,” Omrys remarked.

“Shut up. Let's save the cat and get out of here.”

Omrys glanced back at the way they had come. “Oh. That's not good,” he remarked mildly.

Vivian looked back slowly, already realising what had happened. The door was gone. Instead, a bland, faded blue wall stood smooth and unbroken.

“We’re screwed,” she breathed.

“Indeed.”

“Don't agree with me!” Vivian exclaimed.

“Stop yelling,” Omrys said irritably. “We’ll die faster.”

The djinn started walking again, hands casually shoved in his jacket pockets. Vivian hurried to his side, reluctant to be left behind.

She was afraid. Afraid of the possibilities that lay ahead of every turn in the path, of every door, locked or open to entry. She imagined the worst scenarios, playing them out in her head like a film until the best scenarios seemed less than likely.

The hallway was too quiet. Omrys’s footsteps echoed with her own, adding to the eerie atmosphere. It wasn't helped by the fact that the hallway seemed to be getting narrower and dimmer, as if the farther they went, the more light was sucked from the space around them.

They walked for a good two minutes, but the scenery was always the same bleak corridors. The same scraped wooden doors that they never entered.

Brrrp?

Vivian yelped and ducked toward Omrys, who had immediately spun to face the sound that greeted them from behind.

Vivian sagged with relief when she realised what the source was. The school cat, Mrs Claus, tilted her head at them curiously.

“Oh, the cat. It's still alive, then,” Omrys cleared his throat, trying to mask how surprised he had been by the sudden noise.

“Her name is Mrs Claus,” Vivian told him quietly

Omrys stared at her, then back at the cat. “That's a really stupid name. Why do everyone these days have stupid names? The poor cat.” Omrys bent down and held out his hand toward the cat. She moved towards him slowly, partly because of caution, but mostly because she was extremely geriatric. Vivian noticed a chunk of fur was missing from the cat’s left haunch, and the animal walked with a slightly more prominent limp than usual.

“Ah, hello my love,” Omrys crooned softly. “You are a beautiful tabby, aren't you, darling?”

Vivian stared at him. His tender attitude towards the cat - toward any physical thing except instant noodles- was inexplicably unexpected and slightly disturbing to witness.

Mrs Claus sniffed Omrys's hand then blinked at him with her large, cloudy green eyes. She meowed- a brittle, rolling sound that echoed off the walls.

Omrys recoiled slightly.

“What is it?” Vivian asked him, peering around for danger.

“She says her name is Sasabub.”

Vivian blinked. “Who? The cat?”

“Yes.”

“You can speak cat? Since when?”

“She’s a witch cat.”

“Which means?” Vivian asked him, increasingly concerned.

Mrs Claus-, or, as Omrys had called her, Sasabub flicked her tail.

“She says we have to run, or we’ll die,” Omrys told Vivian mildly.

“Run?” Vivian squeaked. “Run where, exactly?”

Omrys stood, scooping the cat into his arms. “Less reasonable thinking, more running,” he snapped, tugging Vivian down the hallway.

At first, they just jogged, but Omrys increased their speed with every passing second. They fled through the endless hallways, slipping into one, only to end up in another. It was a hopeless maze, leaving Vivian wondering if they were just running in circles.

Her lungs and legs were not thrilled.

“How do we get out?” Vivian panted. She was falling behind Omrys, even though he was the one carrying a cat. To be fair, though, Vivian doubted the elderly feline weighed more than a malnourished squirrel.

“Keep up, human,” Omrys muttered.

Vivian suspected he had no idea where they were headed, nor how to get there.

There was a break in the repetitive cycle when they came upon a corpse. A horrible, grey-skinned creature lay in the hallway. It was about as big as a twelve-year-old child and completely hairless. What Vivian could see of its features included its misshapen mouth full of protruding fangs and dirty claws that clutched tufts of what appeared to be Mrs Claus’s fur. That was all Vivian had time to glimpse before they hurried on, leaving the creature in a pool of its own blood.

Omrys cursed. “That's the Bazelo.”

“It's good that it's dead, though, right?” Vivian asked, relieved that there wouldn't be a chance that she would be eaten by the grotesque creature that lay dead behind them.

“You assume that whatever killed it won't want to kill us, too?”

Vivian hesitated. “Ah.”

The dim lights above them flickered ominously. A pounding sound began to echo around the halls that Vivian realised with horror, was not their own footsteps.

“Keep running, Vivian. Don't stop,” Omrys warned.

Each breath was a punch to her chest, but Vivian decided that carrying on was better than being horribly murdered. Having said that, her body seemed to be trying to convince her otherwise.

Spots began to appear in her vision, and Vivian began to wish that she had taken gym class more seriously.

She stumbled and Omrys cursed again- in a different language this time. Stopping abruptly, Omrys grabbed her arm with his free hand and pulled her through a nearby door that was thankfully already unlocked. An empty, grey classroom awaited them.