Hugh didn’t react at once. I sprang onto the back of the sofa and lunged at him. We tumbled together onto the living-room rug. There was no clatter—just the muted thud of our bodies on the carpet.In the darkness we wrestled for a moment. Dazed, Hugh threw a punch. It was useless. Before that, I’d driven the syringe deep into his thigh and pumped in every drop. By the time he realized there was a needle, it was too late. When Simon injected me last night, the drug took effect in under a minute—Hugh would collapse just as quickly.His face was still frozen in shock. I smiled triumphantly at his wide blue eyes. He tried to pull the syringe out and hurl it away, but he didn’t have the strength. Perhaps my excitement accelerated the drug’s rush. He tried to scream, but I pounced again, pressing his face into the sofa cushion. After a few more struggles, he fell silent.I tossed the cushion aside. He seemed unconscious. Pressing my ear to his chest, I felt his heart pounding. I went back to my room and fetched the handcuffs I’d left on the bed. Fastening one cuff to each of Hugh’s wrists and the other end to the sofa arm, I threw the key out the open window. A fierce wind blew in, washing the sweat from my face.My heart pounded as if it would burst. I glanced at the clock behind me. It was barely past half-past nine in the evening. Hugh lay unconscious, and George and Simon were asleep. Now I had to deal with Jérôme. What should I do?I stood at the window and looked out at the distant monastery building. The school lay silent in the darkness. In the dorms where the staff lived I could see only a few lights flickering. My mind felt astonishingly clear, yet I couldn’t think of a thing; my body felt as light as air, and my hands trembled. I gazed out at the wind-whipped night and then suddenly noticed the stables.Ah, yes. You’d feel left out if I forgot you.I stepped lightly and opened the door. The top floor was quiet. I hesitated before room 402, then crept down the stairs. On the second floor I paused and peered through the stairwell at the lobby. A single light glowed beside the front door; everything else was dark. Only four boys and I remained in the dorm, so the matron had gone in early. How smoothly everything was going. I slipped out of the dormitory on silent feet.Outside, the wind howled as though a storm were about to break. Clouds had gathered, blotting out the moon. The entire school lay in darkness, as if swallowed by the bog. Only the wind’s roar and the rustling of leaves sounded eerie in the night. Part of me felt mad; part felt clearer than ever.In the stables I turned on a small lamp. I found him at once—Jérôme’s prized horse, the one I almost used for a far more intimate purpose. It greeted me with gentle whickers, its dark ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) eyes soft and tame. I was glad to see him.Calmly, I led him out of the stall. To my surprise, he obeyed. I tied him to a post, then walked past the shovel, pickaxe, and sickle leaning against the wall, and picked up the axe. Gripping the handle firmly, I returned to the stall.I swung with all my strength, driving the blade straight into the horse’s forehead. The axe split its skull and sank halfway in. The horse neighed, its cry merging with the howling wind into a horrific chorus. It was all right. I stared down at it calmly. It would be over soon.And it was. The massive body crashed onto the stable floor with a heavy thud. I drew out the axe and, as if chopping firewood, began hacking at its neck. Not one of the other horses stirred or whinnyed. Outside, only the wind and the crack of bone echoed in the stall.When the head was severed, I cradled it in my arms and left the stable. Now I would go see Jérôme.The dormitory was as silent as when I’d left. Before going up the stairs I stared down the hallway. Across from the dining hall’s kitchen was the matron’s room—its door firmly shut in the dorm’s hushed stillness. I paused, then climbed the stairs, holding the head close as blood dripped onto the steps. I needed to change clothes. This wouldn’t do. But there were no clean clothes left—they’d burned them all, poured gasoline into the fireplace and set them ablaze… gasoline… gasoline…Burnthem all. There could be no clearer purpose. It felt as if they themselves had prepared the gasoline for this moment. Yes—set the entire dormitory alight. The drought had left everything bone-dry, and the wind was fierce. It was perfect weather for immolation. It was like a revelation guiding me.Reaching the top floor, I ignored room 402 and returned to my own. Hugh was still lying dead-weight, cuffed to the sofa. Simon was asleep exactly as I’d left him. George was sound asleep too.I set the horse’s head by the doorway, grabbed the lighter from the hearth, and hefted the can of gasoline. It was heavy. I was careful not to spill a drop on them. Instead, I doused the window frames, the doorway, and, around Hugh, the living room in a circle—leaving no escape.What about Jérôme? His door would be locked, and if he tried to force it open he’d wake up… Ah—! I’d forgotten Jérôme’s room key that George had given me. It was with a stack of photos, left in the principal’s office in my back pocket—and then forgotten. I rushed back to the fireplace and rummaged in the ashes. There, cold and coated in soot, lay the key. I clutched it and swallowed a cry of triumph.Oh, George, tonight I will grant your little wish at last!I carried the horse’s head and the small pocket knife Jérôme had once mocked as “cute” down the hall to 402.I slipped the key into the lock and turned it with the utmost care. The entire top floor was so deathly quiet that anyone awake might have heard. After turning the key, I waited—silence. Then I gently twisted the handle and opened the door.The living-room light was off. The space I’d only entered once before lay in that same ominous hush. I crossed the empty room and entered the bedroom, pocket knife in hand. The knife was tiny—“cute,” Jérôme had said—but sharp enough to gouge out those little eyes. The bedroom door stood open.I almost laughed. Jérôme lay asleep like an angel, breathing softly. Jérôme, even asleep you’re an angel’s face. I approached him quietly, set the horse’s head on the bedside table, and looked down at him. Would he open his eyes?He did not. For an instant I was tempted to brush his hair aside. Instead I closed the knife and left. If he was asleep, there was no need to risk waking him. A painfully agonized death in the flames would be a fitting end. I went back to his door and living room, dousing them heavily with gasoline. Half the fuel remained.Sweat drenched me. My pounding heart had quieted; my hands no longer shook. I strolled back to room 401, switched on the bathroom light, and looked in the mirror. When I pulled off my shirt, my torso was smeared with animal blood. There was no time to wash it away. I wiped roughly with a towel and casually changed into Simon’s clothes. As I was leaving, I noticed his desk.My wallet and passport lay on it. When I’d overturned the wardrobe to burn his clothes, I’d set them aside. I grabbed them both and walked out, feeling as if I were embarking on a journey. My steps were light.I dripped gasoline down the stair carpet as I descended. The soaked carpet gave off a foul smell. At the bottom I headed toward the dining hall. I flooded the matron’s door with gasoline, then slipped into the kitchen.I emptied most of the remaining gasoline onto the stacked gas cylinders in the pantry. Then, backing toward the entrance, I scattered the rest behind me. Outside, the wind blew like madness. The fuel soaked into the brittle grass and earth. I hurled the empty can into the dormitory’s entrance hall.I straightened up and stared at the darkened dormitory. It was silent. The wind filled my ears. My hair whipped wildly. I laughed.“Ha ha.”My laughter burst out like a seizure.“Ha ha ha—ha… ha…”I crouched in the grass and cupped my hands. I flicked the lighter. At first the flame crept along the grass, then it roared back along my gasoline trail and leapt toward the building. At that moment something cold struck my cheek. I looked up. Rain.Thick drops fell one by one, then suddenly pounded down. The rain drove like fury. The fire, having surged at the entrance, flamed briefly before beginning to die. I stood in the downpour, watching the dormitory’s flames flicker out, waiting. Just a little longer… a little… and then….Bang.A thunderous roar filled my ears. The gas cylinders in the kitchen had exploded. In the pelting rain, the dormitory burst into full blaze. Though stone, the kitchen wing was half-collapsed. The rest of the ancient building held—for now.Joy shook me through and through. A flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating the old monastery, then thunder crashed again. The flames greedily spread. Glass windows shattered with sharp cracks.I watched in silence as the inferno climbed floor by floor. At last, the top-floor windows burst open. Lightning flashed overhead once more. Rain drenched me. The remaining blood on my body was washed away in an instant. The rain stung my skin.Everything… it was all over. I had killed them all. My breath came in ragged gasps—not from exertion, but because I could not draw a single normal breath. I had just, with my own two hands, done this. My body felt as though it were aflame. I trembled uncontrollably.I had killed them all! At last!Euphoria broke me. I dropped to my knees in the grass and screamed into the thunder and rain. It wasn’t a horse’s cry—it was my own voice, long imprisoned. I pressed my face into the wet grass and howled.Then someone’s voice joined mine. Not thunder, not rain, not wind—but another person’s scream. I looked up in stupefaction.It was the top floor.“Raymond! Raymond—ahh! Raymond—ahhh!”Jérôme. He leaned out of a window, screaming at me. Lightning flashed, revealing his rain-soaked face wearing a rapturous grin—happier than ever.“Until we meet again, Raymond!”Thunder cracked again. In that flash, I saw him hugging the horse’s severed head to his chest like a teddy bear and laughing in rapture.“Look! Screaaam! There—there’s a student at the fourth-floor window! What do we do?”“Call it in—call it in first…”“Even if we call, the fire engines will take over an hour to get here in this rain!”“Someone in Bluebell, go fetch help!”“Do you have a fire extinguisher? Bring every one you’ve got!”“Hey, are you okay? It’s dangerous—come out here!”Suddenly people’s voices clamored. There were screams. One shouted after me.I turned. People were rushing from the staff dorms—some I knew well. I stumbled toward them and then collapsed onto the grass. They rushed over, helped me to my feet, and screamed as they saw the burning dorm.Supported by two people, I stood again, glancing back at the dormitory. Jérôme still leaned from the window, now barely visible. The wind whipped harder than the rain, fanning the flames. Bit by bit, I moved away from the inferno. People formed a circle around me.“Are you all right? Any injuries? You’re a student, right? What’s your name? Can you speak?”The person holding me asked breathlessly. I feigned madness.“The fire… the fire suddenly—was walking around, going back… suddenly… ugh… my friends… still inside…”My words broke into a sob. Someone wrapped me in their arms. Over their shoulder I saw a familiar face—the one who’d locked me on the top floor, the one who’d given me the scarf. Anna.I gave her a crooked smile. I hadn’t been able to get vengeance on everyone. But if I’d had the chance, I’d have burned you alive too, bitch. Anna’s face went deathly pale and she stepped back. I buried my face in the shoulder of the person supporting me, as if I’d never stopped smiling.Soon they brought fire extinguishers and began fighting the blaze. A car arrived to call for help beyond Bluebell. When they saw me trembling in fear, they decided to take me to the hospital first. I lay in the back seat wrapped in a blanket, the school’s flames behind me as we drove away.I glanced back one last time. Under the storm-dark sky, lightning and rain, the bright inferno devoured the centuries-old monastery—and with it, my memories of that place.I escaped.I took the overnight train and only transferred to a bus at dawn. Until then, I’d heard nothing.I was so hungry I felt I’d die. I’d have eaten even cold, hardened bread. My hunger was agonizing. When I got off the bus I nearly retched from emptiness.Having bought my ticket with time to spare, I went straight into the station café. I grabbed sugared doughnuts, chocolate scones, and coffee, and devoured them standing in an instant. The waitress stared at my grimy clothes and pale face, then wordlessly handed me a mug of hot chocolate. I murmured thanks and gulped it down without noticing the heat.Departure was imminent and the terminal buzzed with people. I crouched in a chair. A breaking news bulletin flashed on the wall-mounted TV: “Special Report on the Fire at St. Bartholomew’s Boarding School, Bluebell.” A camera in a helicopter hovered in the drizzling sky, filming the charred ruins. The ancient building had not collapsed but was utterly gutted—no sock left unburned. The fire was caused by a gas explosion in the kitchen.An announcement sounded:“Once again, we remind you that American Airlines Flight 108 to California is now boarding.”I rose. Clutching my passport and ticket, I turned—and the TV anchor’s voice caught me:“Four people died in last night’s fire, and two were critically or moderately injured and taken to hospital…”I looked back at the screen. The victims’ names scrolled by in a subtitle:Robert Anderson (36)Jérôme White (20)Hugh Donwell (20)Carl Purse (20)I felt my chest tighten. The list remained on screen for a moment. Carl? Carl? How… why…? My legs gave out. I staggered but stayed upright. How could Carl have…?

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