Detective Locke and Detective Myers bounce roughly in their seats as their seat belts hold them in place and leave a trail of red welts across their chests. The police car kicks up dust and dirt as Detective Locke drives down the dirt road. A trail of cars is seen ahead as he pulls off to the side of the road a fair distance away. However, even from their current location, a well-kept cottage can be spotted in the distance.

The two detectives emerge from their vehicle and shut the doors behind them. The sound echoes loudly in the woods and despite all the personnel present at the scene, there is an eerie atmosphere permeating from the very ground to the very air. The detective’s footsteps crunch loudly as they make their way to the shack. Something about their own footsteps causes the hairs on the back of the detective’s necks to stand on edge.

A charming wood shack with a stone chimney sits directly in the middle of the woods. A pretty white stone path leads to the shack from the connecting dirt road. At the edge of the dirt road is a seemingly cute, painted mailbox in the shape of a barn house. Further inspection does not suggest that this seemly cute shack would be the den of a crazed killer. But even though the two detectives had worked as VICE and had seen plenty of gruesome crime scenes in their days, something about this one chilled them to their very bones.

A masked officer emerges from within the cottage out carrying out a sealed box. With great care, the dark-skinned officer removes the mask from his face. In a horror-filled voice, the officer sickly says, “You’re going to want a mask.”

The two detectives without hesitation each walk over to an officer holding out two masks. The two carefully secure the medical masks to their faces before entering the shack. The cottage itself smells of lilac and rosemary. A neat stone chimney stands in the corner alongside an iron wood burning stove that has a pile of neatly chopped wood stacked against the cabin wall.

The small kitchen holds excellent crafted wooden cupboards filled with dishes and dry food items. There are tiny hooks on the kitchen hall that hold up pots and other kitchen utensils. There is a small table for two in the middle of the kitchen with two exquisitely carved wooden chairs. To the left of the kitchen is a dyed wooden closet filled with neatly hung clothing. To the right of that is a twin-size bed with embroidered pillows and covers. On either side of the bed are small nightstands that hold more folded clothing and feminine underwear.

The final piece of furniture in the small shack is a bookshelf filled with romance and mystery novels. Nothing out of the ordinary for a young woman living out in the middle of the woods. It is so charming, that more than one officer would have found themselves smitten with the owner.

However, directly in the middle of the shack is a large blue rug that has been rolled to the side to reveal an underground entrance with a metal door opening and lock. The metal door had been removed with pliers and had long since been removed from the scene.

An iron ladder is bolted to the underground wall plunging 10 feet down below. A careless slip would lead to a nasty fall. With some hesitation, the detectives carefully climb down the metal ladder into the darkness below. Their eyes adjust to the dim light as generators have been carried down to light the basement with flashlights lightening the walking pathway. Eventually, mage lights will be conjured but the mage members of the police force are much too busy to do so now.

Detective Locke and Detective Myers follow the flashlight pathway, a haunting trail in the dark, damp tunnel. The sound of rustling grows stronger as bright lights up ahead cause their eyes to sting. The two detectives blink the tears from their eyes as they emerge into a brightly lit concrete, cement room.

In the midst, of the madness is Sergeant Judy Jensen. Officers and other personnel scurry around like ants collecting and processing evidence. Sergeant Jensen turns around to face them, carefully keeping her face devoid of emotion. “So, what did the victim have to say?” Sergeant Jensen distantly asked.

“Nothing much, other than the freak responsible is a woman,” Detective Locke drily stated as his eyes come to rest upon a corpse. Even in death, the woman’s corpse is breathtakingly beautiful. The cause of the woman’s death is evident as a pair of scissors had been violently inserted into her throat.

Sergeant Jensen bitterly grunts, “That’s what we figured too,” as she points to the corpse. “The bitch really did a number on the kids before killing them.”

Detective Myers swallows down the bile that the image recalled. “From the description of the victim, the killer thought she was a goddess with the power over life and death,” Detective Myers queasily said.

A handsome tan man with a nicely trimmed beard approaches from behind and adds, “That fits with my preliminary evaluation as well. The killer enjoyed the feeling of power and control over every single action of her victims. Our surviving victim only survived as long as she did, because our killer needed a spectator, a witness to her power. Some of the most deranged serial killers are the most egotistical of beings. Everything at the scene suggests my initial assessment, but I won’t be able to create a full psyche until we finish processing the scene.”

“Thank you, Doctor Amir,” Sergeant Jensen sincerely said as Doctor Amir briskly moves on to recollect more information. The detectives are quiet as Sergeant Jensen frowns and her phone starts ringing. Sergeant Jensen frowns in resignation but swiftly walks up the stairs to take the call. Her superiors weren’t going to be happy with the news.

*

The citizens of Emerald City and the nation are in an uproar regarding the findings of Classroom 13. The citizens were shocked upon seeing the corpse of the killer that had committed such atrocities. Such a beautiful woman was the culprit behind the disappearance of class 13? It was impossible to believe, but all the incriminating evidence suggested otherwise.

The identity of the Killer was never officially confirmed despite the police and the public citizen's efforts. The police force and the masses would just have to be satisfied that the culprit had been caught and justice had been wrought. But even with the case being solved, it was still a mystery on how the killer had gotten into the Summerfield Conservatory? Without proof only, speculation could be given but it was widely believed that it was the killer’s gift that allowed her to do so.

With the closing of the case of Classroom 13, the students were officially declared dead. But there was an unconfirmed rumor suggesting that there was a survivor of the massacre. Despite the media’s best efforts, nothing was ever confirmed. Conspiracies were still rampant as the mystery of Classroom 13 would never be entirely solved. These unanswered questions would always remain, who, how, and why?

*

Months later, Izo sits in a comfy seat across from Doctor Wang who is overseeing the therapy session from a corner of the room. A large plump, pleasant man says, “But how does that make you feel?”

The still too slender girl raises an eyebrow at the question. “It makes me grateful for the fact that I have food to eat. In fact, I will never cease to be grateful for the food put on the table before me. Does that answer your question, Dr. Berkeley?” Izo loudly replied.

Dr. Berkeley stiffens indignantly causing his jowls to jiggle. Dr. Berkeley opens his mouth to retort back, but Dr. Wang interjects, “I believe that is enough for tonight’s session. Izo, you’re excused.”

Izo jumps to her feet with glee and flees out the door and slamming the door pointedly shut behind her. Dr. Berkeley opens his mouth to complain as Dr. Wang says, “Dr. Berkeley, my suspicions have been confirmed from tonight’s session. Miss Lee is to be immediately discharged and will be assigned a different therapist for her out of hospital transition.”

“But, she’s an invaluable source of information and research!” Dr. Berkeley complained.

“Dr. Berkeley, I understand that she is a fascinating subject. But despite all odds, I find that she is in full control of her cognitive and emotional functions. Despite, the fact that she’s been under severe physical and mental strain. Doctor Janice Anderson agree with me. We find that it would be best for Miss Lee to be discharged and to have her meet a therapist bi-weekly,” Dr. Wang firmly countered.

Dr. Berkeley mutters a few choice words under his breath, before haughtily declaring, “Dr. Wang, I will have you know that my father-in-law is on the border of directors. He will take it poorly that such a valuable patient has been removed from my care.”

Dr. Wang sighs at his colleague’s antics. “Dr. Berkeley, I needn’t remind you that Miss Lee is my patient and ultimately the decision for treatment or her release is in my hands. Nor should I remind you, that you shan’t be making an enemy out of me, but out of the Lee family,” Dr. Wang firmly reprimanded.

Dr. Berkeley pales upon remembering exactly whose daughter, Miss Lee is. He hastily coughs and covers his tracks by saying, “Of course. I merely wanted to make certain your priorities were in their place. Excuse me, my next patient is waiting for me.” He swiftly heaves himself out of his seat and waddles away at full pace.

Dr. Wang sighs with relief as he walks back to his office and is somewhat surprised to find the seated figures of Mr. and Mrs. Lee. He carefully shuts the door behind him, before sitting down and greeting them. “Hello and Mr. and Mrs. Lee, how are you?”

Mr. Lee smiles politely back and replies, “Well thank you. How soon can my daughter finally be released?”

“As a matter of fact-,” Dr. Wang started to answer before being rudely cut off.

“What is wrong with my Izo? She doesn’t like the clothes that I bring back from her favorite shops. She only wears those tasteless clothes that she calls comfortable! Her food tastes are utterly different. She hates her favorite snacks that are stuffed to the brim with caviar. She prefers tasteless foods such as pizza and burgers! And worst of all, when I embrace her, she coldly embraces me back!

It’s like someone switched my Izo with her doppelganger!” Mrs. Lee desperately said as she pleaded with the Doctor to give her a satisfying answer. That her daughter would eventually return to the daughter of her heart.

Mr. Lee gives Dr. Wang a sympathetic smile as Dr. Wang answers, “Just a moment, Mrs. Lee,” and he pulls out his phone to text. Mrs. Lee slumps weakly against her husband’s chest in despair.

A minute later, the door opens and shuts to reveal a mocha-skinned woman with brown eyes and dark hair in hundreds of tiny, long braids. Her white coat is stark against her skin as she introduces herself. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Lee, I’m Dr. Janice Anderson. I will in charge of reintroducing your daughter to society and will be seeing her bi-weekly upon her release. I was also told that you had some questions regarding your daughter’s change in personality?” Dr. Anderson firmly said as Mr. Lee smiles painfully in response, while Mrs. Lee nods her head vehemently in reply, before pointedly turning to glare at Dr. Wang.

Dr. Wang already use to such actions from patients or patient’s families merely smiles nonchalantly back. Dr. Anderson hides the mirth in her eyes at the actions of Mrs. Lee and promptly replies, “Your worries are well founded, Mrs. Lee. I am certain that your daughter is vastly different from your memories. However, personality changes are quite common in traumatic situations such as these. I must emphasize the importance of not treating your daughter any differently. Traumatic victims like your daughter often go through abrupt personality changes to survive and adapt to their situation. To treat her differently could further damage your relationship.

As of right now, I can clearly see there is tension between the two of you. Your daughter is dissociating with her past self's pastimes such as shopping and even clothing styles are a constant reminder of her previous weak-self. Despite your well-intentioned actions Mrs. Lee, they are serving to push your daughter further away deepening the gap between the two of you. Your daughter is currently trying to stand on her two feet such triggers are only hurting her in a constant reminder of how powerless she was in her traumatic situation. She is doing her best to recreate herself, but mostly she is trying to feel safe in the new world around her.

Please be more patient, Mrs. Lee. But please understand, that your daughter will never be the person she once was. However, that doesn’t mean she is not your daughter. She is merely different than the daughter you once knew. You now have ample time and opportunity to get to know your current daughter. Without a doubt, you will come to love her as much you have in the past and will be able to reconnect once more.”

Mrs. Lee’s shoulders tremble with an unknown emotion as she keeps her gaze firmly fixed to the floor. Mr. Lee rubs his wife’s back as he gravely glances at Dr. Anderson. “Then what do you recommend, Doctor Anderson?” Mr. Lee finally asked.

“As of right now, I have several recommendations, but I will state the most pertinent ones for now. Firstly, do not reintroduce Izo to everyday society nor allow her existence to come to light. Under such limelight, the still-fragile psyche of Izo will surely be crushed. This may lead to a tragic outcome that we all wish to avoid.

Secondly, her current return to the Lee manor or any other home is out of the question. These places are a trigger to her and could very well cause a relapse. Not to mention, that such a situation may cause worse mental issues to become present. I know this may sound strange, but a victim’s mind is in a different state from the rest of us.

Instead, may I suggest, that you give her own space and privacy. A small apartment, where she can feel independent, but safe. Izo needs to feel that she is still in control of her situation, but more importantly, that the two of you trust her enough to keep herself safe.

However, I do realize she is still very much a minor. May I suggest a friend or relative or possibly a caretaker to watch and cohabit with her?” Dr. Anderson persuasively said as Mr. Lee nods in understanding.

“Thank you, Doctor Anderson, we will follow your counsel. How soon can she be released,” Mr. Lee firmly said.

“By the end of the week, if the proper arrangements have been made,” Dr. Wang truthfully answered.

Mr. Lee nods in thanks as Mrs. Lee leans against him and they depart from the office. Dr. Anderson raises an eyebrow at Dr. Wang that says it all, “Rich People.” Dr. Wang shrugs sheepishly as Dr. Anderson asks, “Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head regretfully and says, “No, but my wife is expecting me for dinner.”

Dr. Anderson snorts, “Salad again?”

“Salad again,” Dr. Wang tragically replied.

“Makes me glad, I’m not married,” Dr. Anderson cheerfully replied as she strides out. She pauses at the door and adds over her shoulder, “I’m having steak by the way,” before confidently marching away. Dr. Wang groans hungrily as he sits down and gloomily answering his wife’s phone call.