Grimmstead Academy: Submission

by Candace Wondrak

  Once I no longer heard his footsteps echoing down the long hall, I leaned my head back against the stone. Some people might regret their choices for the day, if they ended up here. Me? I didn’t care. I really didn’t give a fuck about anything. The hurt I’d inflicted, the pain, the death—those were three of my favorite things. It wasn’t so wrong to spread them around.

  Felice…oh, I wasn’t done with her yet. The things I would do to her would be considered wickedly immoral and deliciously depraved. The poor girl had no idea.

  Chapter Seven – Felice

  One moment I was in the room with the chair, still underneath Victor, and the next my eyes were closed, a soft cushion below my back. A bed? Strange, because I couldn’t remember how I got here. Did I pass out again? Lose another chunk of my memory? Seemed a common occurrence with me.

  My body still felt warm all over though, from the lovemaking, especially my cheeks. As I fought to open my eyes and sit up, the world started to spin around me, random thoughts pushing themselves in my brain. Everything Victor had told me, everything I’d seen in that room, the children…

  Wait. The guys weren’t children, and Koda and Bram weren’t…

  What the heck was wrong with me? Was that all some dream? I didn’t know, I couldn’t say. I didn’t know what was real at this point and what wasn’t.

  Once the room stopped spinning, I saw I wasn’t alone in my room. A bearded man, fifteen years my senior, stood beside the bed, his arms folded across his chest. My heart immediately pounded away, both because I thought of that dream where I’d slept with him—also in that strange room—and the time when I’d stumbled into his office and saw him dead and bleeding.

  There was no wound on his chest. No blood. He wore different clothes than he had before, and I was so very confused, my head hurt.

  “Lucien,” I breathed out his name. “How—” How did he stand here, alive, before me? Before, I couldn’t remember him or the others at all. Dreams didn’t last for days, and I specifically remembered multiple nights going by.

  Lucien said nothing, moving to the bed, sitting on its edge, and reaching for me. He said nothing as he pulled me against his chest, the widest, strongest chest I’d had the opportunity to call a pillow. His arms wrapped around my back, and I kid you not, he practically squeezed the life out of me.

  He hugged me like he missed me. Like he’d needed me. Like he had thought he would never see me again.

  Almost like…well, almost like he loved me, but that was probably just my heated body affecting my mind. I might have had sex dreams about this guy, but he was my boss. Nothing more.

  “I saw you dead,” I whispered against his chest, wondering, after I said it, if any of it was real. Did I make his body up? Was it all a figment of my imagination? Was anything that happened under this slate grey roof real? I was starting to wonder that, because the longer I was here, the more bizarre things became.

  Finally, Lucien’s low, rough voice spoke, “I’m not dead anymore.”

  At that, I had to pull away from him, sitting and blinking at him. “What?”

  His mouth thinned into a line, and his eyes roamed my face, dropping to my neck. “Go wash that off. I’ll gather the others in the dining hall. There are things you should know. Things about this place.” He shook his head. “I wanted to keep you out of it, but it would seem fate has you intertwined with us all.” He got up, his large frame lumbering to the door, where he stopped and turned to stare at me.

  I had no idea what the heck he’d just said, but he did tell me to go wash something off. I brought my hands to my face, feeling something crusty on my cheeks. What in the world…

  Getting out of bed, I moved into the bathroom, flicking on the light and seeing just what it was on my face.

  Blood. Dried, dark red blood, painted on my face like some kind of sick art project. Down my forehead to my nose, along each cheek, and even from my bottom lip to my collarbone. Someone had painted this on me, and my stomach clenched as I wondered who it was.

  And then it all came crashing back—not only was Lucien dead in his office, but Payne was, too. Whatever was going on with Bram and Koda, who I was fairly sure were the same person, something had snapped. Bram had gone psycho. He was chasing after me, and I ran, finding the gates were open. But then…then I tried to run out, run to the street that sat just outside the gate.

  And I couldn’t get to it. When I crossed the gate, it was as if I never left. I’d stood staring at Grimmstead Academy, not the road. Trying to turn and do it again and again didn’t help, either.

  My hands gripped the vanity’s edge as my eyes widened in the mirror. “What the hell is this place?” I spoke to myself, swearing, even though it wasn’t my thing. I wanted to get out, but clearly, getting out was impossible.

  Was that why my cell phone had no bars here? Was that why everything in this place seemed so old?

  I didn’t believe in magic. I didn’t believe in ghosts or vampires or any of that supernatural stuff, but here…I was starting to wonder if I was locked in my own scary story without realizing it.

  I tried to shake it off as I turned on the water and scrubbed the dried blood off my face and neck. Got my dress wet, so afterward I had to change into a new one. My hair was dry, meaning I’d been out for a while. And Bram…I assumed he was locked up somewhere, because otherwise I didn’t think Lucien would ever leave me alone.

  It was as I left my room that I realized something else. If Lucien was alive, Payne had to be, too. Maybe I’d walk downstairs and see everyone together, alive and breathing. No severed heads, no more blood.

  That, I knew, was probably wishful thinking on my part, but I found myself hoping for it nonetheless.

  I slowly moved down the hall, down the stairs, and to the right, where the dining hall sat, along with the kitchen that was empty and looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Lucien had gathered everyone else—everyone except two people, actually. Koda/Bram and Payne were missing.

  No one sat down. Ian stood near the window, gazing out at the dark sky above us. His white sleeves were rolled up, as they usually were, his blonde hair messy and unkempt. The moment I walked in, he turned around, blue eyes spotting me. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and his expression was unreadable. He looked happy to see me, but then, with Ian, you never really knew.

  Dagen, on the other hand, rushed to me, something so unlike him I was frozen as he reached for me. Was he going to hug me? He didn’t seem like the type of guy who liked physical touch, but then I remembered what happened while we were in Ian’s room, how everything about him had changed after he’d touched me.

  He didn’t hug me, though. He simply held onto my arms, squeezing gently. He still had bags under his eyes, a thick coat of black stubble on his jaw, but his dark eyes were alert and totally focused on me. “I’m glad you’re awake,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I replied, feeling some type of confused under his gaze. Once Dagen released me, I moved closer to the nearest wooden chair, my fingers curling around its back arch. Lucien stood three feet to my right, his arms folded across his impressive chest, a scowl on his face. “Where’s Payne? And Koda? Or…Bram, or whoever he is—”

  “I can take you to Payne after we talk,” Lucien spoke. “And you don’t have to worry about Bram right now. He’s handled. He won’t hurt you or anyone else.” He sounded so sure, but with a psychopath under the same roof, you were never truly safe.

  I really just wanted to see Payne, to make sure he was okay. “All right,” I said, glancing at each of them. Ian hadn’t come up to me, hadn’t shown any emotions to let me know he was happy I wasn’t dead, which hurt. Since he was so overly flirty and suave, I imagined he’d try to come to me, try to make a move, even in front of the others. “So let’s talk. What the heck is going on in this place? I tried running, but I couldn’t get to the street. I kept winding up back here.”

  Ian let out a chuckle. “If the gates were open, it was only tempting you. Eh, well
, more like mocking.”

  “Once you’re in,” Dagen spoke, dark eyes on me behind his glasses, “you can never leave.”

  Those words might’ve gone in one ear and out the other before, but here and now, I knew better than to disregard anything they said, even if it didn’t make sense.

  Lucien muttered, “It wanted you to see this place for what it truly is.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked.

  “A labyrinth of pain and lies,” Lucien said, shaking his head once. “A place many souls get lost in.”

  I blinked. “Tell me you don’t mean that literally.” I had seen some strange apparitions, shrouded black figures seemingly floating along the floor, but I never thought…I just thought I was seeing things, like how I’d seen Robert’s shoe and the fire.

  “Oh, I assure you, he does,” Ian spoke glibly.

  It was Dagen’s turn to talk, frowning as he muttered, “It will also use your fears against you, and normally there’s no cure to the madness.” Everyone turned to look at him, which caused him to say, “I think we are all aware that we each have our own…desires, but that also goes along with our weaknesses. My weakness is that sound—which I still can’t believe none of you hear, by the way.”

  I swallowed. “And your desire?”

  “To make it stop,” he replied. The weight behind his stare could’ve knocked me over if I wasn’t holding onto a chair for support. “You, Felice. You make it stop.” As Dagen spoke this, Ian looked at him strangely, and then he looked at me, as if trying to put it together.

  I didn’t want to linger on what that meant, why I made the noise stop for him. Instead, I asked, “And what about Koda? Can someone please explain this whole Koda and Bram situation for me?”

  “Koda and Bram are different,” Lucien said. “It isn’t that Koda has different personalities, locked away inside his head. Bram is another person. His brother. They both inhabit the same body, and as you’ve seen, they are very different.”

  I wasn’t sure how that wasn’t split personalities, but I let it go. “So leaving this place is impossible.” I received three nods, and my heart sank. “How long have you all been here?”

  Silence as the men in the room tried to think. Heavy silence as they looked at each other, trying to ascertain some clue as to when they’d all arrived here. It couldn’t have been too long ago. Lucien was the oldest out of all of us, somewhere in his mid-thirties, but the others were near my age, perhaps a few years older.

  “Surely it hasn’t been that long,” I said.

  “Time is a strange thing here,” Lucien spoke. “You simply have no grasp on it. It feels as though it’s been an eternity.” Dagen and Ian nodded quickly, agreeing with that statement.

  I looked down, lost in my own mind. Of course, with my thoughts running so fast, I was bound to end up thinking about something I shouldn’t. Or, rather, someone. Victor. Being with him had felt so real; the space between my legs heated up in memory. I remembered seeing him after the gate fiasco, but that wasn’t the first time I’d seen his face.

  The first time I’d looked upon Victor’s face was in the basement, right before I’d slept with Payne.

  No. No way. Victor couldn’t be real.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucien spoke, voice softening as he addressed me.

  After biting back my trepidation, I questioned, “Who’s Victor Grimmstead?” As I spoke his name, I glanced to the guys. Ian blinked, looking bored, or maybe that was him trying not to care. Dagen merely looked concerned, and he glanced between me and Lucien.

  Lucien, on the other hand, looked downright murderous. “How did you know his name?”

  Was there any point in lying? Grimmstead had a long, strange history, its walls and property constantly evolving but never truly staying the same. I wasn’t going to go so far as to confess everything I’d done with Victor in my dream, but just by the look on Lucien’s face, I knew he was bad.

  And, not only that, but he was real. Victor was that man’s real name, and that wasn’t something my mind could just fabricate on its own. Was that long dream truly a dream, or was it something more? Had I actually been there, talking to Victor, dealing with the guys as children? If so, I didn’t know what to think.

  “I dreamed of him,” I said. “Or, at least, I thought it was a dream. Now I’m not so sure.”

  Lucien appeared ready to kill, and I felt a little itchy, as if I’d done wrong by bringing him up. “Victor was the start of this whole place. He built it brick by brick because, somehow, he knew this place wasn’t normal. The land here feeds on chaos, and he wanted to learn to control it.”

  “Did he?” I supposed I already had my answer, since Victor did not stand among us.

  “No. This place swallowed him up, just like it does to most people who walk these halls,” Lucien answered, frowning. “He knew this place was getting to him, so he made me.”

  “He made you?” That seemed like a weird statement to use. Having sex and having a son didn’t come to mind immediately after his odd choice of words.

  “I am…not his son, though I suppose I’m the closest thing to it.” With a slight shake of his head, Lucien went on, “I am made after him, in the image he wanted himself to be. Not a true living being, but more of a guardian.”

  I could suddenly see it. Victor was the skinnier, more clean-cut version of Lucien. Both had brown hair, similar light eyes. Both had a wicked streak they often hid behind their nice clothes and calm demeanor.

  Wait. Did this mean Lucien wasn’t human? If he wasn’t human, how could he be killed? But then, if I used that logic, he shouldn’t be standing here in front of me, either. He should still be dead. Humans didn’t come back to life.

  Payne…

  “And yet,” Ian chimed in, his melodic, sarcastic tone breaking the heaviness of the conversation, “you’re still not the most handsome one in the house.” He gave me a smirk. “That honor falls to me.”

  Dagen rolled his eyes, letting out a huff.

  “Not everything is about looks,” Lucien told him, causing Ian’s smile to instantly disappear. “You should know that by now, Dorian.”

  Ian answered stiffly, “It’s Ian, not Dorian, thanks.” Dorian must be his full name; I wasn’t sure why he had such hatred towards it, because I thought it was a nice name. Nicer than Ian, anyways.

  Sighing out, I said, “Is there anything else I should know? Anything at all? Anything you guys have hidden from me since I got here, because…well, I don’t even know why you kept all of this from me.”

  Dagen cocked his head; he must’ve heard the sound that drove him crazy, but he managed to ask, “Would you have believed any of this when you first arrived?”

  I opened my mouth to retort, to give him an indignant answer, but I realized the answer would be no. No, I wouldn’t have believed any of this. I probably would’ve laughed at what they now told me. Heck, maybe I would’ve tried to leave right away, and been greeted with a gate that refused to open—or worse, a gate that opened only to make my mind go crazy with the impossibility of it all.

  “Exactly,” Lucien stated. “I instructed everyone to be on their best behaviors.”

  I chose to keep quiet at that, because not everyone had been at their best, including me. I’d become some freaky sex mink here, not to mention whatever was going on with Victor.

  “If you saw Victor, it means he’s itching to come back,” Lucien went on. His chest rumbled with a growl-like sound. “It might mean you’re the key to his return, which means you’ll have to be vigilant.”

  “He did mention that I was the key to everything,” I whispered.

  “Not only for him, but for us as well,” Lucien stated, and it was as our gazes locked that I remembered what Victor had told me in that room, just before we’d had sex. Anyone made from his blood would see me in that room.

  Was that room real? Was that room what sat behind the locked door Lucien never wanted me to see? Did Lucien…see me in that room? I didn’t know what
to think of it.

  “I think you’re connected to all of us,” Lucien added, his voice growing so quiet, I could hardly hear him. Low, gravelly. The kind of voice I could easily imagine being whispered into my ear.

  Was that why I felt so frisky around these guys? Because I was meant to? Ugh, that was…I didn’t even know. This all seemed so far out of the realm of possibility that I never even dreamed something like this could ever happen.

  If I was connected to all of them, the feelings inside of me were impossible to fight. Maybe for a little bit, but…I’d already given in to Payne, and Lucien and Victor in dreams. Was it only a matter of time until I gave myself to all of them? That wasn’t normal. Not to me, at least. I was monogamous.

  Or at least I was, before coming to this place and letting it rattle my brain.

  “Come,” Lucien said, starting to move out of the dining hall, “I’ll take you to Payne.” The others remained still, apparently not going with us, though I did note conflicting expressions on their faces. Neither Dagen nor Ian seemed happy, and that made my stomach drop.

  What if Payne was dead dead, and not just a little dead? Until Grimmstead, I never thought I’d ever have to use the phrase just a little dead, but here I was, constantly being surprised.

  I followed Lucien through the building. He took me to the third floor, a floor I hardly ever stepped foot on. We turned into the west wing, heading to the very last door on the left. Immediately the air felt colder, like twenty degrees colder, and I shivered, moving behind Lucien as he opened the door and stepped in.

  The room was sparsely furnished, nothing at all like the rooms on the second floor. This one literally only had a table situated in the center of the room, along with a window, whose grey light flooded the otherwise dark and dank room. Nothing hung on the stone walls, no carpet on the floor. All stone and cold and loneliness.