over, sliding it into my hands. "Do not lose your spellbook. There won't be a second, and then you will fail my class. That is punishable by death."
"Understood," I say, though I think it's a tad bit extreme. I'm not telling her that.
"Go and find a seat, Miss Cameron," she suggests, and I quickly walk past the three full rows of students until I find an empty row. I place my spellbook down and open the first page, seeing nothing but plain, aged yellow paper. Before I can ask Mrs. Hermansen about it, she starts talking.
"Welcome, everyone, to Learning to Hex. For the students who are hexing, please go to the back of the classroom and choose a test subject in the cage room. For the students that are not at the right level to hex, and the new girl, stay in your seats," Mrs. Hermansen says, and I'm assuming they use rats or frogs to test on. Who actually knows though? This place is crazy. All the students except for one guy get out of their seats and go to the doors at the back of the classroom and soon disappear into them.
"George, how many lessons have we had now?" Mrs. Hermansen asks, walking over to his desk and sitting on the edge right in front of him. I can't see anything but the back of his head and his blond hair, but man I think he is scared from the way he shakes a little bit. Mrs. Herman reminds me of a snake right at this moment.
"T-t-twenty," he stutters, coughing on his nerves.
"Then I'm afraid if you cannot hex by now, you will never learn it," she says and places her hand on his shoulder as she leans into him. It all looks innocent until I smell the blood in the air. His body suddenly tenses, and he coughs, spitting blood all over the front of her cloak. I rapidly climb out my seat and run over, stopping at the end of his desk as Mrs. Herman pulls her hand out of his chest, dripping with blood. "Your death is the beginning. Your king welcomes you to hell, blessed child. All praise Lucifer." His body slumps onto the floor and I'm so in shock that I can do nothing but stare at Mrs. Herman, hearing my heart beating in my ear and feel bile rising in my throat.
"I have a body to get rid of, but you can go and watch your fellow classmates for the rest of the lesson. Think of it as hands-on experience. We can learn some hex spells next week," she says, leaning over the table and grabbing George’s ankle. With crazy strength that she shouldn't have, she pulls his body over the table, and onto the other side before walking off, dragging him behind her. "If you are going to puke, do it in the sink," she suggests as she leaves the room. I run to the sink just seconds before I throw up the cereal and toast I had today, gasping as I slide down onto the floor.
My teacher just killed a student like it was nothing more than killing a fly. Holy hell. I wipe my mouth and stand up, my legs feeling more than a little shaky as I walk to the doors at the back. I push them open and freeze as I take in the rows of cages, each with a person inside. The people don't even look my way as I take in their dirty clothes and the god-awful smell in here.
"Let me guess, George is dead?" a girl asks, walking over to me with a human trailing behind her like he is tied to an invisible rope. I just nod, lost for words, and she sighs. "That's a shame, though he really wasn't good at anything. What about you, new girl? Are you going to run away or stay to watch?"
"What's your name?" I find myself able to say, not answering her though.
"Lela; and you are Alexandria. Everyone has bets on you passing out a few times this week; I made a bet you wouldn't. So come on, what are you going to do?" she asks.
"This is wrong," I mutter.
"So wrong . . . but a little part of you likes the pain they are in. That part of you is your demon, and that's the reason you haven't run away yet," she tells me. “A few students have run away, and all of them are