:One:

Jason pays the principal a visit and gets a threat from a girl he doesn't even know. Isn't that nice?

“Hey, have you ever heard of the Crimson Thief?”

“No, what is that?”

“It's not a what. It's a who.”

“A who?”

“Yes. Long ago there was a legend of a thief that stole anything"no everything"that he wanted. The thief would break into both the rich and poor homes, taking anything that fit his likings. Then the thief would kill anyone living in the place. Anyone. It didn't matter who they were. The Crimson Thief doesn't care.

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Whenever you hear a soft tapping sound at night, lock all your windows and doors because that means he is coming.”

“Your just trying to scare me.”

“No I'm not. I have proof that this is all true! I've heard that there's a descendent of The Crimson Thief in this school!”
    

“What?! Who?”

“I think his name is . . . Jason Bays.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a classroom a teacher stood in front of the room writing down English terms on the board. In the classroom there were exactly twenty-six desks and exactly twenty-six matching chairs.

A boy sat in the back of the room. In desk twenty-six. In chair twenty-six. His eyes adventured beyond the glass. The glass that held him captive in the classroom. The teacher was talking and talking and the students were listening and taking notes, but not him. Not the boy in the back of the room. Oh no, he just stared out the window with an expressionless look on his face. The boy softly tapped his fingers on the hard wood desk he was placed at. A sigh left his mouth and he brought his left hand up to his chin, holding it up as if it would fall off any second.

There was a knock at the classroom door. The teacher stopped writing and left the room. Only the soft tapping of the boys fingers filled the room. No one would ever dare speak in this classroom, ever. The only words that were spoken were from the teacher and when a student got called on.

Then someone stood up and talked.

“Who is The Crimson Thief?” A girl blurted out. The girl had shiny blond hair, in which was tied with two black laced ribbons up into two pig-tails. Her soft light green eyes looked around the room, demanding an answer.

The boy clenched his teeth shut harshly and pulled his right hand into a fist.

“Seems like someone got left out of the group.”

The boy continued to stare out the window.

No one spoke, but all of the eyes darted away from the back of the room until everyone was looking at the board. The girl who asked looked at the boy in the twenty-sixth seat. She looked at the boy but didn't do anything.

The teacher walked back into the room.

“Jason Bays. You're wanted in the front office.”

The boy in the twenty-sixth seat stood up. He walked out of the room with a straight face as he felt the strange girl who blurted out earlier, stare at him until he closed the classroom door behind him. As he walked through the halls other kids avoided him. They avoided staring at him, but most of all they avoided accepting his existence all together. Jason kept walking with one foot in front of the other, ignoring the dirty glares he received from the kids who weren't afraid to look at him.

Once he got down to the office, he was shown into the principals office. The door was firmly closed behind him and the sound of a click was faintly heard, with the sound of footsteps walking away.

There were gold frames of all the past principals hung up on the gray walls, including their names in small gold print at the bottom of the frame. There were two cushioned plaid chairs resting in front of the desk as Jason walked in. He had never been in the principals office before so he studied everything closely. A desk sat in the center of the room. The glossy finish of the wooden desk gleamed as sunlight shone through the one small window in the room.

Principal Lark Withers.

That name was famous around the school the school. Hell, the name was even famous outside of school. Everyone talked about the young, beautiful principal at Yellow Orchards Academy. Every girl was jealous of her and every boy was in love. Apparently, age wasn't a a problem. Not that anyone actually knew how old Principal Lark was. There was a rumor going around that Principal Lark was only twenty-eight, but who can trust rumors these days.

The principal had beautiful chestnut hair, measuring to the bottom of her chest. Whenever she walked her hair trailed closely behind her, flowing in the breeze. Her blue pair of eyes complimented her pale skin tone. Principal Lark could easily tan, but she has declared to everyone that she hates sunlight. It explains a lot actually, why she carries an umbrella outside even when it is not raining and why she is locked up in her office most of the time.

“Correct me if I'm wrong but . . . you are . . . Jason Bays . . . correct?” Principal Lark's voice echoed off the walls.

“So what if I am?” Jason challenged.

“Well then Jason. I have a change in schedules for you.”

“Hmp, that's it? I wasted my time walking all the way down her for that?” He snorted then looked the principal in the eye.

 

“Besides, it's just a schedule change. Why does the principal have to tell me? There must be a catch.”

Jason's words rang through the air.

Nothing moved.

No one blinked.

No breath was taken.

Then, Principal Lark started laughing uncontrollably. She had to hold onto her desk so she wouldn't fall off her chair. After she regained control, Principal Lark spoke.

“As expected of The Crimson Thief. You can see through anything. Nothing can faze you. You're invincible.” Her last word seemed to linger in the air, far after it was spoken.

Jason narrowed his eyes.

“What does The Crimson Thief have to do with this? I knew there was more to this then you were letting on.” Jason said coldly.

“Oh, just hearing that tone in your voice delights me.” The woman shivered in her seat.

“You are the principal, right? You've got to be joking. The principal I know doesn't laugh and doesn't say those things. Especially those things about me. No one says those things about me.” Jason said leaning this head a little to the left.

“Oh, but you're so wonderful,” Principal Lark licked her lips lustfully. “That cute innocence you hold and the tastefully pure heart you have no matter what happens to you.” The principal shook her head. “Anyways, back onto what you came here for. You are having all of your classes transferred over to “Specials”. In case you don't know what specials are, they are . . . unique classes for, well, special students.”

Once again the room was consumed with no sound.

“Kay. Where's my schedule?”

“Hun? What? T-That's it?! You're just going to take it? Just like that?” Principal Lark stammered.

“Yup.”

“You have no problem with what I just said?”

    

“Should I have a problem?”

“Ah, well no . . .”

“Then can I have my schedule now?”

Dumbfounded, Principal Lark handed the unfazed Jason his new schedule. He stared at it intensely, as if he were studying for a test.

“When do I start using this one?” Jason asked, lifting the papers up in the air slightly.

“Right now.”

“Kay.”

“You really are something, you know that Jason?”

The young boy ignored the principals comment and turned around, reaching for the door. Principal Lark watched him eagerly. He put his hand on the door knob and turned it. Crack! He opened the door and walked out and left wearing the same expression he had when he walked in.

“You should probably stock up on more drinks.” He said softly as he closed the door behind him. He walked out of the office and headed in the direction of his next class.

“Hun? How? I had the door locked when he walked in. Did he . . . hah! He must have.” Principal laughed and opened a secret table in her desk. A red and black chess board lat on the secret table with different pieces on it. Some of the pieces were blood red and the others were of the purest white, except two of them, which were a mix of the crimson and the white. Principal Lark gently picked up one in the shape of a male version of little red riding hood with a sword in his right hand. The sword was stained with the color of blood but the figure was as white as snow, with an exception of little bits of crimson on his head. Then she placed the figure one square ahead of its original placement. “Let's play fair, Jason. I would rather not have to kill you like the other descendent. You're perfect. Oh so blissfully perfect. Your blood must be delicious.” Principal Lark licked her lips again and laughed. Her laugh echoed through the small office in which she was in.

    

Shivers crept up Jason's back as he heard faint laughs. Despite this he kept walking through the halls as he normally did. He had not walked very much before the familiar girl from his used-to-be class, walked down the hall going to opposite direction he was going. As she passed him she whispered something in his ear.

 

“Watch out.”