The iron gates of Blackthorn Academy groaned shut behind them with a clang that echoed through Lena's bones.
She walked in silence, her suitcase wheels dragging against the cobbled path, weaving past a sea of fresh faces. The courtyard stretched out like a cold, forgotten plaza—gray stone statues of former headmasters glared down at them like silent judges.
Jax walked somewhere to her right, too close for comfort, but thankfully not speaking.
The wind carried the scent of salt and rust, but something else, something that Lena couldn't place. It was faint, almost buried beneath the crisp autumn air, but it set her teeth on edge.
Rot.
Students were ushered into the central hall by staff in maroon blazers and forced smiles. The room itself was massive, gothic, with a glass ceiling that let the pale light spill over the black-and-gold checkered floor. A grand chandelier creaked high above.
Lena stood among the crowd, arms folded, scanning the sea of students until a familiar voice called her name.
"Lena!"
Ava Maria, her only friend from her old school, waved her down with both hands. Relief washed over Lena like warmth in winter.
"I thought you'd ghosted me," Ava said, hugging her tightly.
"Never. Just… got here late," Lena replied, her voice low.
Before Ava could ask more, the lights flickered overhead.
Once. Twice.
Then returned to normal.
A few students laughed nervously. Lena and Ava exchanged a look.
"Old wiring?" Ava offered.
But Lena wasn't convinced.
At the front of the hall, Headmaster Hermond, a thin man with silver hair and deep frown lines, stepped up to the microphone.
"Welcome to Blackthorn Academy," he began, voice smooth but cold. "Here, we teach discipline, intelligence, and resilience. Not everyone belongs within these walls. But those who do… will thrive."
His eyes scanned the crowd as if daring someone to disagree.
"Your dorm keys and schedules will be distributed shortly. Classes begin tomorrow. Curfew is strictly 9 p.m. Outside doors lock automatically. Violations will not be tolerated."
Lena felt something icy coil in her stomach. The tone wasn't just stern—it was threatening.
As the speech dragged on, she zoned out, her eyes drifting across the room… and landing on Jax Wilder.
He stood near the back, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on the headmaster with a smirk that could melt steel. But there was something else—something tight about his jaw, a flicker of tension in his shoulders.
He was pretending not to care, but he did. A lot.
The speech ended, students filed toward their dorm assignments, and the crowd broke apart.
Lena followed Ava up the stone staircase toward Dorm A, tucked beneath one of the towers. Her room was small, cold, and smelled like damp paper, but at least it was hers.
A small envelope sat on the pillow.
____________________
Lena Cross
Dorm A-12
Roommate: None
____________________
Alone. Perfect.
Ava's room was just down the hall. "Come hang later," she whispered. "I've got some snacks."
Lena nodded but didn't commit. She needed quiet.
She unpacked in silence. Clothes, books, her pocketknife — old habit. She stared at it for a second before slipping it under her pillow.
The sun dipped lower outside the tall, narrow window. Shadows lengthened like claws across the floor.
Somewhere in the hall, a door slammed.
Then… a scream.
Short. Choked. And then nothing.
Lena froze.
She crept toward her door and opened it a crack. Silence. No footsteps. No shouts. Just the whisper of wind through the old pipes.
Her heart pounded. She stepped out into the hallway.
Nothing.
All doors were closed. No one else seemed to notice or care.
She glanced to her right and~
Jax stood at the far end of the hall, half in shadow, watching her.
Neither spoke.
He tilted his head slightly. "You heard it too."
It wasn't a question.
Lena stared. "What was it?"
Jax looked down the hallway, then back at her. "You don't want to know."
And then, without another word, he turned and walked away.
Leaving Lena standing in the dark.
With the undeniable feeling that something was terribly wrong at Blackthorn Academy.