by J. N. Colon
My eyes moved away, seeking refuge from the horror only to land on the ripped flesh of her arms. Her torso was worse, rolls of blood-covered intestines and unrecognizable internal organs spilling out of ragged, gapping wounds.
The scream finally exploded out my mouth, shattering the cold, quiet night.
Chapter 8
“I just want to go to my room,” I told the school nurse who was shining a light in my eyes.
“Not yet,” she replied in her scratchy Russian accent.
After I screamed bloody murder Professor Forsyth found me—it had to be him of all people—and escorted me to the infirmary. He hadn’t left the tiny, dim hospital-like area since we arrived, looming in the corner and glaring at me with those beady eyes.
“I find it hard to believe you didn’t see or hear anything,” he accused, his upper crust English accent especially pretentious. “The girl couldn’t have been dead that long.” He played with his white handlebar mustache, waiting for a confession.
Well he wasn’t going to get one. “No,” I hissed. “I already told you exactly what happened.”
A flash of Alyssa’s bloody, shredded flesh reverberated through my mind, making me shiver. I tightened the wool blanket around me.
“Horace that’s enough.” The headmaster marched back into the room after talking with the local police. “Ms. McHale didn’t see anything. And can’t you see she’s in shock?”
Was I in shock?
“She’s shivering like a leaf.” He wrapped another blanket around my shoulders, flashing a gentle smile.
“Thanks,” I muttered, trying to fold myself in until I disappeared from all the prying eyes.
Headmaster Norrington had an endless supply of tweed suits, his ash brown hair almost the same color as the one he wore now. “Clearly it’s an animal attack.” His hand gave a fleeting touch to my shoulder while a pair of soft brown eyes were trying to calm me. “Rubi was lucky to escape an attack herself.”
Maybe it was because he was on my side or because he wasn’t on Professor Forsyth’s side, but I was beginning to like Headmaster Norrington. Beyond that rigid three piece suit I noticed the lack of deep wrinkles around his face and age spots one would normally find on the principle of a prestigious, stuffy school like Highland Academy. In fact he didn’t look a day over thirty.
Crotchety professor Forsyth raised a fluffy white brow. “Well, she should still be questioned by the police and…”
“Rubi!” He was interrupted by a flash of color blurring through the room.
“Madison?” I gasped. “What are doing here?”
She rushed to my side, her black and red choppy hair disheveled above her multicolored wool scarf. “I heard what happened.” Her face was pale and eyes wide, laden with concern.
“Ms. Hughes, what are you doing out of your dorm?” The headmaster’s stern face didn’t match his soft voice. “You know we’re in lockdown tonight. How did you even get past the monitors?”
Madison stuck her hands on her narrow hips, ruffling her violet corduroy jacket. “Rubi’s my best friend. Did you really expect me stay hold up in my room when I know she’s here and totally freaking out?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Stay here and don’t go running off again.”
Her bravery and concern made my chest warm and eyes water, having been given less than a friendly welcome at my new school.
“Oh Rubi.” She assumed my tears stemmed from the traumatic event and hugged me tight. “It’ll be all right.”
“I know,” I sniffled, feeling embarrassed. “I just can’t believe a wild animal was on campus.”
“They’re saying it’s a wild animal?” A layer of disbelief colored the edges of her voice.
I pulled back and peered into her face, noticing an accusatory gleam in her dark eyes. “Of course it is,” I insisted. “She was all ripped up.” I swallowed the hard lump forming in my throat, warning me a fresh set of tears was on the verge. “What else would it be?”
She blinked the odd suspicion from her gaze, her eyes softening to their normal appearance. “Of course it was a wild animal.” She shivered. “It’s just hard to believe something like this happened.”
I nodded and pulled the blankets tighter around my neck, ignoring the eerie feeling in my stomach. This was Salem. What if it had something to do with…? It could have been some sick ritualistic sacrifice.
But that was crazy. Things like witches weren’t real. Right?
***
“Did you hear what they’re saying?” Aspen asked Sutton as they assembled on her bed in our dorm room.
School was cancelled—the locker prankster would have to wait another day to see his or her failed attempt at my humiliation—and students were forced to remain in their respective dorms. My gaze had been glued to the window and the outside world, spotting animal control and local police officers dressed in blue, searching for the wild animal that killed Alyssa.
Sutton shook her head, her shoulder length dark brown hair swaying gently.
“They said Alyssa was all ripped up and her guts were spilling out.” Aspen was pretending to be fixated on her nails when in reality she was gauging Sutton’s reaction, her amber eyes flicking toward the petite girl for a millisecond.
Color disappeared from Sutton’s face while her mouth dropped open, her fingers covering it. “No way.”
A satisfactory gleam spread over Aspen classically beautiful face as she nodded.
The tiny pixie-like girl leaned forward. “Didn’t she find the body?” She gestured to where I lay on my bed, staring at a spot on the ceiling.
Aspen nodded. “Ask her about it.”
“No way. You do it. She’s your roommate.”
“So. I don’t want to ask her,” she hissed. “Just do it.”
I clenched my fists to keep from throwing a pillow at them. No telling what they’d do to retaliate if I messed up their perfect hair. “What do you want to ask me?”
Both girls jumped, flabbergasted I was able to hear their loud whispering.
Aspen’s bottom lip snagged between her teeth, hesitating or at least pretending to. “Was she like they’re saying? All ripped up and stuff?”
I nodded, swallowing the acid crawling up my throat.
Sutton shivered while Aspen scooted toward the edge of the bed, twisting her long auburn hair around her fingers. “I heard there was a huge chunk eaten right out of her neck.”
I nodded and cut my eyes at her, suspicion burning in my chest. Where was she getting such accurate information? I hardly doubted the teachers were going around sharing specific details to Alyssa’s death.
“Was she all…?”
“Just stop,” I hissed and shot out of bed, my stomach curling from reliving the horror of finding the body as much as for Aspen’s twisted excitement. “What’s wrong with you? A friend of yours died and you want all the gory details?”
Aspen’s perfectly arched auburn brow lifted, shocked at my outburst.
“No more questions.” I marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, wishing it could wash away the memory of blood, guts, and flesh that kept replaying in my mind.
My feet pressed on the plush rug outside the tub when I was done, steam permeating throughout. Even the bathrooms in Hampton Hall dripped with opulence. White porcelain tiles and stainless steel fixtures glinted in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Drops of condensation collected on the glossy walls and dark cherry wood cabinetry.
I wiped steam from the mirror with my hand, a squeaking noise filling the fog induced room. My face was shades paler than normal and eyes haunted, dark circles bruising beneath. I was going to end up looking like a corpse if I didn’t get some sleep. Better than being a corpse though.
I dried off with a towel and slipped on a pair of scarlet lace underwear and a matching bra. I didn’t consider myself all that girly, but there was just something about pretty undergarments t
hat made me feel pampered and right now I needed some of that.
Before leaving the steamy bathroom I pressed my ear to the warm door, hearing only silence. Aspen and Sutton were gone.
A sigh of relief rushed out my chest as I stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, my feet padding softly on the mahogany floor toward my dresser. It was nice to finally be alone, away from curious glances and whispers over Alyssa’s death. No intrusive questions about finding the gory body…
“Whoa! Rubi baby. Where have you been all my life?”
I yelped and spun around to find Brant perched on Aspen’s dresser. “What the hell are you doing here!” I squealed, snatching a throw pillow off my bed to hide my mostly naked body. Of course it was a throw pillow so it didn’t cover much.
“I was waiting on Aspen,” he sang, hopping off the dresser and slowly closing the distance between us like a prowling cat. “I knew there was something hiding under that tight little uniform, but damn…” He slowly whistled, his eyes grazing over every inch of my bare skin.
“Get out.” I failed to hide the serious case of nerves when I spoke, my voice high-pitched and trembling. My heart rattled in my chest as he lasciviously licked his lips and fingered the edges of that gold necklace around his neck. This close I could see the odd carvings on the pendent—like Celtic knots or something.
Weren’t those like pagan symbols? And wasn’t paganism kind of like witchcraft…?
“Do you always wear this kind of intimate apparel under your clothes?” His deep, suddenly husky voice snapped me out of my head and away from the theory I was forming. His hooded hazel eyes grew hungrier by the second as he watched beads of water leak from my wet hair, streaking across my skin. “Rubi, you look absolutely ravishing in red.”
My back was already pressed against my dresser, leaving no more room to move. Sand clogged my throat and legs trembled with a mixture of weakness and trepidation. That same predatory gleam appeared in his eyes as it had during the rugby game, making waves of fear roll through my chest and across my skin.
“Brant.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Please get out.”
He blinked his eyes clear, their appearance quickly softening. “Sorry Rubi.” He smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through his golden locks. “I got a little carried away.”
“Uh-huh.” I breathed, still clutching the pillow to my chest.
“Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Something about that crocodile smile made me think otherwise.
“How’d you get that scar?” His gaze had zeroed on a spot on the pillow directly against my scar as if he had x-ray vision.
“I fell out of a tree when I was five and got stabbed by a branch.”
He sucked his teeth, real pain momentarily flashing across his expression. “And so close to the heart. I bet it hurt.”
“I don’t remember.”
Brant shook himself as if shaking off a bad memory. “Oh and I’m sorry about you finding that mess of a girl.” His brows knit, his face unexpectedly sympathetic.
“Oh,” was all I could manage through the shock. Brant wasn’t usually the comforting type.
He met my eyes and there was actual sincerity in his gaze. “You shouldn’t have to see something like that.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. Then I realized I was still standing in my underwear.
“Maybe I could help…”
“Brant,” I cut him off. “Maybe we can have this conversation when I have clothes on?”
That crocodile smile stretched across his broad, clean-cut face again. “Sure.” He plucked my Lone Star Burger Shack hoodie off my bed and dangled it in front of me, shooting a flirty wink.
I left Brant in the room to wait for Aspen, afraid if I stayed he might ask me to join in. I wandered around the dorm building, ending up on the attic floor in some sort of storage nook. Dusty boxes and trunks were stacked into tall towers in the dark room, forming aisles. Forgotten, imperfect furniture was dispersed and shoved into corners. The moon streamed in through a tiny gilded window, dowsing a small wooden table and threadbare scarlet chaise in silvery light. Unlit candles were melted into the scarred tabletop, yellowed wax leaving raised trails in the wood.
Maybe someone used to hide out here.
My eyes landed on a box of matches by the table, their presence begging me to make myself comfortable. I dug a single match out and ran it across the rough paper, the hiss of the flame erupting to life echoed through the space. Soft, golden light spilled through the alcove, leaving shadows to the rest.
I relaxed my head on the arm of the chaise, staring out toward the dark night through the dusty window. The autumn scenery would have been beautiful except for the perpetual fog swirling across the leaf strewn ground, winding through the trunks of trees until the roots and bottom half were completely obscured.
How would they ever find that animal in this?
A sigh flitted out my mouth and somber feelings chilled me. I should be seeing familiar beaches and palm trees instead of autumn foliage and fog. The air should smell sweet from jasmine and briny from the ocean. A warm breeze should be blowing my crazy hair around my face and the stars should be bright specks along a clear pitch sky.
Instead I was cowering in an extravagant castle of a school with as much opulence as eerie ambiance. Constant swirling fog swept through every inch of the campus and unseen eyes followed me. The majority of students were cruel snobs and the staff wasn’t much different. I was pretty certain something creepy was going on with the popular kids, something involving disappearing couples and maybe even an old leather bound book. Oh and I couldn’t forget the dead, militated body I tripped over last night.
I brushed a tear that escaped my eye then buried my face in the musty chaise, cold loneliness twisting through my heart. My entire body ached for the comfort of my home so much so I could have hidden in here until the end of the semester.
“Rubi?”
My head snapped up, finding none other than Mac Dav standing before me with a perplexed expression on his striking face. I hastily wiped the embarrassing tears away and attempted to control my suddenly pounding heart. “Hey,” I muttered, my voice strained with emotion.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded.
My eyes wondered down to his hand where he clutched an old book with a gold embossed title. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Mac Dav read American Literature? Realization hit me and a new wave of humiliation punched me in the chest. I had stumbled on his secret hiding spot.
“How’d you get up here?” he asked, his soft lips pursed.
“I got lost and kind of stumbled on it.” I awkwardly stood, mortified he caught me crying. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“No. You can stay.” He gestured for me to sit and unexpectedly squeezed in next to me so close our thighs touched—and where they did my skin burned like a fire was raging just beneath.
Silence stretched between us, the only sound was my galloping pulse that I was certain he could hear. His wild forest and heady scent washed over me, turning my insides into mush and filling them with swarming butterflies. My fingers nervously fidgeted with my messy hair, wishing I had ran a brush through it before I left the dorm. Of course it probably wouldn’t have helped much.
I chanced a peek at Mac from the corner of my eye, noticing the difference in his usual demeanor. His heavily lashed jade eyes were sad, almost haunted and his face was melancholy, devoid of his normal rakish personality. That lazy smile was replaced by a grim frown and those midnight strands of silk were even more disheveled as if his fingers had been relentlessly digging through them. His large hands clutched the book tightly.
“What’s that?” I finally blurted when the silence became too heavy.
“The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.” A sad smile curled his lips. “My mom used to read it to me when I was little.”
It was hard to imagine him ever being little.
“It’s a first edition. It was hers when she
was young and she gave it to me on my thirteenth birthday. She knew it was my favorite.” Mac opened the book to the first page where an ornate cursive message was written.
Don’t let the burden of greatness overshadow your heart. You can reign with power and authority, but you can conquer with love.
Love Always,
Mom
I was stunned he showed me something so personal. The words his mother wrote sounded like they were meant for someone important. I supposed Mac was important in high society. Maybe she wanted to remind him to not grow cold and emotionless like the majority of the students here already were.
Love is power.
I inwardly groaned, knowing I just sounded like my hippie mother.
“Your mom must be really nice,” I said, attempting to break the sudden silence building between us.
“She was.” Mac closed the book and laid it on the other side of him gently as if it was the most precious thing he owned. “She died two days after my thirteenth birthday.” His voice was barely audible, but I heard—and even felt—the pain in it.
My throat tightened and I blinked fresh tears back. I wanted to say something comforting, but my lips were frozen, astounded by his unexpected show of emotion and trust. We’d only talked once and he was suddenly revealing painful and personal things to me.
“I-I’m sorry.” I visibly cringed, thinking how lame the sentiment was.
Mac nodded silently. He turned his face toward mine a ghost of a smile curling the edges his lips. “So, why are you hiding up here?”
I grimaced and turned away, reluctant to discuss my homesickness and everything else tormenting me.
He touched my hand gently, the pad of his thumb making tiny circles. “Oh come on Rubi. You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”
My heart rattled from his touch while tingles radiated from my hand all the way through my body. I hesitantly met his jade eyes and couldn’t help but get lost in a sea of lush green. Then everything tumbled out my mouth…