The Don’s Ruin

EXTINGUISHER

POV: Seraphina

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The door swung shut behind me. My mother's voice still echoed in my head. "She is a disgrace!" But I didn't care anymore.

I walked through the hallways one last time. The stained glass windows cast colored shadows across my path. My heels clicked against the marble floor—click, click, click—a rhythm that matched my heartbeat.

Snide remarks followed me like hungry wolves. "Look at her. Still wearing his jacket." "Did you see what she did? She's insane." "She probably thinks she's famous now."

I didn't slow down. I didn't look back.

But they weren't done with me. Vivian's laughter echoed from somewhere ahead. I rounded the corner and found them waiting. A wall of bodies blocking my path. Vivian stood in the center, flanked by her usual entourage. Marcus hovered beside her, his face pale and uncertain.

"Well, well," Vivian drawled. "Look who's still walking around like she owns the place."

I didn't respond. I didn't even look at her. I walked past her. Past Marcus. Past all of them.

"Hey!" Vivian grabbed my arm. Her nails dug into my skin. "I'm talking to you. You're nothing. You've always been nothing."

I stopped. I looked at her. The perfect blonde hair. The designer clothes. The smile that had tormented me for four years. I felt nothing.

"You're boring," I said. "You've been boring for four years. Same insults. Same cruelty. Same desperate need to tear other people down because you're terrified of being forgotten."

She lunged at me. Marcus caught her arm. "Vivian, stop—" "Don't touch me!" She shoved him away. Hard.

I watched the exchange with detached amusement. They were so predictable. So pathetic.

I scanned the hallway. My eyes landed on a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall. Red. Bright. Obvious. I started walking toward it.

"Where do you think you're going?" Vivian called after me. "We're not done talking!"

I didn't answer. I reached the extinguisher. I pulled it off the wall. Cold against my palms. I turned around.

They were all looking at me. Vivian. Marcus. Their friends. Students who'd gathered to watch the spectacle.

I smiled. And I pulled the pin.

White foam erupted from the nozzle. I aimed it at Vivian's designer dress. At her perfect blonde hair. At her horrified face. She screamed. They all screamed. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" "ARE YOU INSANE?!" "STOP!"

I kept spraying. The foam covered them. Vivian's expensive outfit was ruined. Marcus looked like a ghost. Their friends were crying, coughing, stumbling backward.

I laughed. A wild, unhinged sound that tore from my throat. I laughed until my stomach hurt. I laughed until I couldn't breathe.

And then I dropped the extinguisher and ran.

I ran down the hallway. Past the classrooms. Past the lockers. Past the whispers that would follow me forever. I ran until I reached the abandoned part of the school. The part where I'd moved my locker after they kept bullying me. The part where no one ever came.

I stopped in front of my locker. Old. Rusty. Covered in scratches. I always kept fresh clothes in here. A survival instinct. An admission that I'd always expected to be hurt.

I reached for the handle.

And then I heard it.

A sound that made my blood freeze. Deep. Raw. Unrestrained. Moaning. It came from the inner parts of the hall. No restraint whatsoever. Someone was here. Someone was in the abandoned hallway with me.

I should have left. I should have walked away. But I didn't. My feet moved on their own. Silent. Careful. I tip-toed toward the sound. My heart pounded in my chest. My palms were sweaty. The jacket—Damian's jacket—hung loose around my shoulders.

I turned the corner. And I saw him.

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