Chapter 1

Diana had finally had enough of it. Marshal was sitting in the back of the classroom, alone, thirty minutes after class had ended, yet again. That vacant look he always had on his face was getting to her too. Steeling herself, and, at the same time, making herself look warm and welcoming, the approached Marshal.

"So, I see you're sitting by yourself again?" Diana said this with caution. After all, she had never spoken to Marshal before, and didn't know how he would respond. She watched him anxiously, ready to gauge his reaction.

He shrugged.

He just… shrugged. Of all things Diana had thought would upset her in life, someone shrugging had not been one of them.

"Why." Diana demanded, tapping her foot as she often did when something was getting on her nerves.

The boy shrugged again. Diana frowned. Perhaps she should try another approach?

"Well, then how was your day?" She spoke slowly, trying to make this new phrase make sense to herself; she wasn't used to students simply brushing her off. She was student council president after all. However, to Diana's dismay, Marshal shrugged again. Diana was ready to jump on him, but deep down she knew better. She'd just have to ask him something else.

"If you won't answer that either," she grumbled, taking up an even friendlier stance, "What do you like to do in your free time? Besides sitting in empty classrooms, that is." He finally looked up at her, moving his head from where he had placed it so diligently on his hand. Doing so revealed a fresh-looking, deep purple bruise on his cheekbone. Diana couldn't stop the gasp before either had escaped her mouth. Marshal shrugged again.

"I suppose you could say it's a hobby of mine to get beat up, considering…" He stopped there, turning back to the window with a wistful look. Diana went into a state of shock. One of her peers, her senior of all things, was being harassed, and potentially assaulted.

"Who?" Diana implored, her voice trembling. Diana could feel a mix of anger and horror throb within her as Marshal shrugged again.

"I can't say." His voice was small, and it was soft; but it wasn't weak. Perhaps it was the strength of his voice that upset Diana so much; she felt ready to begin a full blown torture investigation into this kid.

"Yes. You can." Diana persisted. She couldn't give this up. As student council president, she couldn't give this up. Taking a deep breath, Diana placed her hand gingerly on Marshal's shoulder.

"Please, tell me." Diana pleaded with him. Marshal frowned, and considered it for a moment before looking back up at Diana again. His eyes were soft, as if it was painful for him, as much as it was for Diana.

"I can't drag a good person into this." A soft smile played on his lips and he turned back to the window, his usual, empty gaze returning to him within mere moments. "Please, don't talk to me again. I don't want you to get hurt too." Diana waited for a couple of long, laborious moments before deciding she should speak up again. She discovered she'd lost her voice and had to try again.

"What? What do you mean, "I could get hurt too"? I… I'm glad you think I'm a good person, but I just can't let you suffer like this." Diana frowned, her eyes glistening in the fading sunlight. "And, in order for me to stop talking to you, you need to tell me, what is going on?" This time, Marshal didn't respond for quite a while, so long that Diana thought he hadn't heard her, or perhaps he was straight up ignoring her. Diana took a breath, ready to repeat herself, when Marshal finally did something. He turned and looked at her. This time, there were tears slowly drifting down his cheeks. Diana hadn't seen him start crying, and suddenly felt rather rude.

"You don't understand, do you?" The smile returned to him, though it was nearly the most pathetic thing Diana had ever seen. "I really, really can't tell you. It would come for you, hunt you down. It would ruin you." Now Diana was more confused than ever. The way he had said "It," made it sound like "It" was an actual person. And besides that, how would "It" ruin her? Diana's mind raced at alarming speed: Was "It" someone she knew? Someone close to her? Was "It" a gang? A drug ring perhaps? Diana was suddenly aware that her palms were sweaty and her hands trembling. She rubbed the wetness off on the sides of her expensive school uniform skirt. It was a nice blue color, not too hard on the eyes, not all too soft either. Now there were dark stains on the sides. She clasped her hands together.

"What is this "It"?" Diana asked, making sure to speak as slowly as possible.

"That's exactly what I can't tell you." Marshal's voice went soft again. "But please, don't speak of It, again. To anyone, ever." His eyes were pleading, desperate even, but it wasn't enough for Diana. She opened her mouth to continue the interrogation, but Marshal interrupted her. "Don't. Don't be too curious, one day you'll come to regret it the same as I." This again left Diana confused, but she quickly remastered herself. She felt her face shift in worry. She could see the pained expression on Marshal's face that it had cost her.

"I'm not worried about what's happening to me, I'm worried about why you're getting beaten." Marshal sighed, his face contorting again.

"I wouldn't tell you if my life depended on it."

"I will get you to tell me."

"You will not." Marshal snapped. Diana's look became cold.

"Yes, I will. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway." Diana paused, fiddling with a few stray pieces of hair that had freed themselves from her ponytail. "Now, who's doing this to you?" This time his face hardened, he almost looked mad.

"I'm still not going to tell you." Diana glared at Marshal, feeling her nonchalant tone slipping into a cold one.

"Well, I can't let you continue getting beaten. So I'll ask you one last time, who is doing this to you?" Marshal chuckled, turning back to the window,

"No. I'm not going to tell you. Just give it up." Taking a breath through her teeth, Diana went off again, now beginning to pace a bit.

"You have to tell me. It's for your own good."

"Maybe I enjoy getting beaten." Diana spun back to Marshal, looking at him as though he was crazy.

"You don't actually enjoy getting beaten, do you?"

"Would you leave me alone if I did?"

"No, I wouldn't." Diana let her voice soften. She couldn't help but wonder why he was going to such lengths to protect the "It" that was beating him.

"Darn. I was hopeful for a moment." Marshal looked back at her again, and seemed a little disturbed by the level of cold emanating from Diana now. Diana rolled her eyes.

"Why on earth would you want me to forget you?"

"It's not good for you to be talking to me." Diana's frown deepened yet again.

"It's not good for me to be talking to you? I'm the most popular person in the entire school. Why wouldn't it be good for me to be talking to you?"

"It might be listening." Marshal said ominously, looking scared of his own words. It was getting on Diana's nerves.

"Enough with the "It," unless you're going to tell me what "It" is."

"You don't… You can't know. It might kill you." Worry flickered into Marshal's eyes again.

""It" is not going to kill me. You don't have to worry about that. But you need to tell me who he is so that we can figure out a way to stop him" Now it was time for Diana's worry to begin climbing.

"NO!" Marshal was suddenly shouting, but he quickly corrected himself. "I- I mean, no." His voice was quieter now than it had been before.

"Why won't you tell me who this "It" is?" Diana, pressed.

"Because I just won't, okay? Now please, just forget about me and never talk to me again. You never know when It might be listening." Diana's stomach lurched. Did he have no self worth?

"I won't forget about you. And I won't let you continue to get beaten either." Diana thought for a moment, pondering, "So I need you to tell me who this person is."

"I take beatings so good people like you don't have to." Diana took a step back, staring at Marshal for a few moments before her expression softened.

"Is that really what you think? That you take beatings so that other people don't have to?" Marshal tensed.

"If I told anyone about It, It would slowly torture them to death," Marshal paused with a pained expression, them added in a pained undertone, "the same as It is doing to me." Diana gasped. A split second later, the regret on Marshals face was as gloomy as if he'd just killed a person.

"He's doing what?"

"It doesn't matter… I shouldn't have said even that much." Marshal turned away, hanging his head a little.

"He's torturing you, isn't he?" Diana exclaimed, her eyes widening. Marshal jumped from his seat.

"Shh! Don't, Don't say anything about It!" Diana paused, glancing at the door and out the windows.

"Is… Is he listening now?"

"I- I don't know." Diana knew that she needed to calm him down somehow. So, placing a hand on his shoulder, she tried to comfort him.

"It's okay, he's not here, he can't hear us."

"No, No! You don't get it! It's a demon… a demon! He's going to come for me… and you too! Oh, God, what have I done?" Marshal's now frantic eyes were scanning the room with rigid fear.

"Please, calm down. It's okay. He can't hurt us." Now Diana was worried about Marshal, even more so than anything else in the world. What could this person have possibly done to him that he'd be so terrified at the mere thought of them? And for him to call them a demon? This was much, much worse than Diana had originally expected.

"No, I, It…" He stuttered to a stop mid-sentence, the color draining from his cheeks and his eyes widening. "He's here… Oh God he's here!" Diana whirled, but the room was empty. Was Marshal just imagining it? He had to be, but wouldn't that make him a bit crazy? Just like all his peers always said? "Go, run, get out the window, anything!" Marshal started pushing Diana towards the window to emphasize his point. "He… He'll probably beat on me for some time, you should be able to get away safely by then if you start running now." Marshal then stepped in front of Diana protectively, pushing her behind him. Diana's head was pounding.

"There's nobody here. It's just the two of us." Her voice had risen an octive, something it almost never did.

"Just RUN!" He was shouting now, his face getting tighter and tighter with fear. His fingernails dug into Diana's wrist. Until now, Diana hadn't even noticed that his hand was there in the first place.

"It's okay. It's okay, you're safe." Diana insisted. She couldn't take anymore of his desperation, she felt that her head might explode. He looked over his shoulder at her, the expression on his face was broken beyond repair, like a puppet made to repeat its dance one too many times.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so, sorry for dragging you into this."

An invisible force collided with his cheek, sending his head snapping back. Diana gasped, her eyes wider than ever before, she rushed forward to catch him just as he fell. Oh, God. Marshal wasn't as crazy, nor as weird, as everyone said after all.