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Arbed House

Date Unknown

How To Kill Hope

Aric's POV

I have been dumped in a hellhole. An utter mistake, an utterly undeserving punishment.

So I experimented with a bit of arsonism. So I murdered a bunch of nasty little vermin. So I nearly killed that dumb girl. So what?

If I had been left alone, none of that would have happened, and I wouldn't have been stuffed in a ridiculous amount of chains like an animal.

They even took my knife; it's not like I could do anything, anyway.

I am currently being carted around Foxwood streets like a criminal, all the hoity-toity locals giving me wary looks. I suppose a teenager in full body chains is alarming-especially if said teenager is glaring viciously at them.

The guard on the left sharply steers me down Rue de Palais. Stupid name, I think, for a street. Not everything needs to be fancy.

A half block down the street, an old, unkempt-looking building comes into view. Looks like an old chapel, and otherwise abandoned if not for the fact that the lawns are freshly attended to and the turban-clad sentry at the door.

She is tall and imposing, but the purple reminds me too much of my past. No wonder she turns up her nose at me; my glare is a good enough reason for that.

"New delinquent?" Her voice is a cold rasp as she refuses to make eye contact with me.

"Yep. The Dean has her hands full with the one." The right guard chuckles darkly, and I feel that returning urge to knock them all out and escape. Stupid, stupid chains.

I am shoved through the door, past the disapproving, sour woman, and down a dusty, decrepit hallway. Gray stone walls are riddled with cracks, and cobwebs lace the top corners.

With a shudder, we stomp through-well the guards at least. I'm being dragged. Finally, the ruin changes into an open courtyard with an annoyingly cheerful brick cottage, complete with an immaculate flower garden and smoke curling out of the chimney.

And here I expected a prison-style facility. Instead, I get a picturesque Ever home. I'd rather have the prison, honestly. Foxwood's prisons have pretty good hospitality, anyway.

I am shuffled to the front door as the left guard knocks loudly.

The door is opened by a squat woman with graying hair in an ugly brown dress that doesn't help her figure. She's the type of person-by appearance-that one would gloss over and ignore on a busy street.

"Is this my new student?"

"No, it's King Dutra." I snap, disliking her overly cheery manner and beaming smile instantly. She wants me to feel welcome, but if I am expected to smile like that, forget it. I'll break my way back into Foxwood prison, thank you very much.

She gives me, to my disappointment, an even bigger smile, to which I roll my eyes. I hate it here already.

As if picking up on my attitude, the right guard chuckles. If not for these chains, he would be crying on the brick right now. Deserves nothing less, anyway.

"I'll take it from here, thank you gentlemen." The woman interrupts my thoughts as the guards usher me through the door, chains and all.

"And the key for the poor boy's chains."

I spit on the floor. "I am not some 'poor little boy'."

"Are you sure?" The left guard eyes me. "Don't want to cause you any trouble."

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