George never misses.

Torture in its most refined form

"How dare you! Sir, I let you into my household with open arms! We drank together for God's sake! Yet you dishonor me by bedding my daughter?" Scott Davey was an amicable man, most of the time. He had a tendency to spit when he's angry so the maids and butlers made sure to carry a handkerchief on their person at all times.

"Please, Mr. Davey, it's all just a misunderstanding if you would just allow me to explain-"

"Explain!" Scott thundered, his expression could only be described as frightening with a hint of murder. "There will be no explaining. I expect you to remove yourself from the premises within the hour. All of your belongings are being packed as we speak. You may find lodging with another family. Or better yet, leave this country. The Lord knows we need all of you foreigners out before you start breeding."

Michael could do nothing but stare. Scott Davey had never openly been against the quartering act that forced Americans to welcome exchange students into their homes. He'd always been happy to have Michael there. After awhile, it took a few months for Scott to warm up to him. Honestly the most apt comparison of the evolution of their relationship would be that of a cat and its new owner.

"I-fine sir. I'll be gone by the lunch bell." The worst part was he hadn't actually done anything to Elaine. He'd been courting her almost since he'd arrived and his advances were met with open arms. Michael had of course taken that as a good sign and kept on. It turns out, after a few months Elaine grew tired of him and moved on to the next boy. Then Michael had cornered her and asked to know why she was no longer accepting of his courtship. Her answer was naive and poorly thought out. Elaine claimed that he'd been making in inappropriate advances and that she had been slowly driven mad by his incessant presents and conversation.

"I hope to never see you again, Michael Davidson." Scott sneered, obviously angry. Michael couldn't leave his sight sooner. In fact as he was leaving he felt Scott still glaring at him.

Out on the streets in the dreary midday light of September Micheal started to feel panicked. There was no where he could go. He was an exchange student in a foreign country with no degree or means of procuring currency.

The school!

It was their responsibility to take care of him after all. They're obligated to help him until he goes back to London.

With a newfound spring in his step and fueled by the promise of aid Micheal made his way through the city to the school of Wondrous and Illusion Technology.

After a few blocks into a shady part of the neighborhood he began to feel as though he was being watched. He quickly swiveled his head trying to spot his follower. Nothing seemed amiss and he simply dismissed it as his overactive imagination. After all this was where the highest crime rates were in New York.

Micheal Davidson was shot square in the back. They say he felt no pain and his passing was quick. What they don't know is that it took hours for him to die.

Torture in its finest form, because after all, George never misses.