The truth in the shadows

Cora couldn't help but feel a faint tremor of fear skitter through her chest. It wasn't just because she and Damien were meeting during curfew—though that alone was enough to make her palms damp. No, what made her hesitate, fingers clutching the dormitory doorframe, was the location. The clock tower. The same one that haunted her dreams in ominous fragments.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she pushed the door open, only to find Amelia waiting for her with the excited, probing curiosity of a child in front of a candy shop.

"Wait, let me guess," Amelia started, falling in step beside her. "He asked you to do something shady for him, didn't he?"

Cora chuckled nervously, hoping the sound would mask her unease. "Sort of. His mother is bringing some girl to the school, and he wants me to keep her from getting too close to him." She kept her tone light, skimming over the true depth of her conversation with Damien earlier that day.

Cora couldn't bring herself to tell Amelia the darker truth. That Damien had killed Jaffet. That she was partly to blame. Every time the thought crossed her mind, her hands trembled, as if they, too, were stained with the blood he had spilled.

Taking another deep breath, she slipped into the dormitory, Amelia trailing behind her, still asking questions. But Cora didn't hear them. Her mind was elsewhere—back at the clock tower, where she knew the night ahead held secrets darker than the shadows it cast.

Meanwhile, in Jaffet's old room, a man dressed in a crisp grey suit surveyed the scene with sharp, predatory eyes. His irises glowed faintly crimson as he crouched beside the broken window. "Not a single stain on the walls," he murmured, the rich timbre of his voice carrying a hint of menace.

Another man stood nearby, glasses perched on his nose as he scribbled notes into a leather-bound journal. "That's impossible," he said without looking up. "Jaffet called me the night before his disappearance. He sounded...off. I tried calling him back, but the line went dead. The next morning, he was gone."

The dean, standing near the door, pinched the bridge of her nose. "First it's missing students. Now it's missing night creatures," she muttered, exasperation tinged with worry. "Do you think he left the island?"

"No," the man in grey said firmly, straightening to his full height. "The scent of blood lingers here. Someone tried to cover it with detergent, but the stench is unmistakable. Jaffet was murdered."

The dean's lips thinned as she stared at the broken window. "This will cause problems," she murmured.

As the trio exited the room, a black crow perched on the nearby roof cawed ominously before taking flight, its wings slicing through the still night air.

In the dean's office, she stared out at the dim horizon, her fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the windowsill. Her assistant, Austin, stood at her side, nervously adjusting his tie.

"Should I alert the authorities?" he asked cautiously.

The dean's gaze remained fixed on the darkness outside. "No," she said after a moment. "Summon Graves to my office."

Minutes later, Graves appeared, his face etched with curiosity.

"I want the names of every freshman who arrived this term," the dean ordered. "Use hypnosis if you must, but I need answers before Monday."

"And if the killer is a night creature?" Graves asked, his voice low.

"Then use the CCTV cameras. Bring me the culprit."

Back in Damien's room, the sound of steady, rhythmic breathing filled the air as he pushed himself up and down in a flawless series of press-ups. His muscles flexed with each movement, his spotless skin glistening with sweat. A textbook lay open on the floor beneath him, pages fluttering slightly from the movement.

Even in his moments of discipline, Damien exuded an aura of effortless superiority. His jawline, sharp enough to cut glass, tensed as he lowered himself, only to relax as he rose. His dark hair, damp with sweat, clung to his forehead, yet somehow, he still looked like he had stepped out of a magazine cover.

The crow from earlier flew through the open window, landing on his bedpost. Its black eyes glittered as it cawed softly.

"What is it?" Damien asked, not bothering to look up.

"There's a detective inspector sniffing around the school," the crow said.

Damien paused mid-motion, brushing a hand through his damp hair, the action as effortless as it was cocky. He chuckled, a low, velvety sound. "Let him sniff," he said. "He won't find anything worth finding."

The crow tilted its head, as if amused, before taking off once more into the night.

By the time the clock struck eleven, Cora was standing in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. Amelia had long since fallen asleep, her earlier chatter giving way to soft snores. Cora pulled on a cardigan, taking one last deep breath before slipping out of the room.

The hallway was eerily quiet, shadows pooling in every corner. The air felt heavier than usual, and Cora couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked, each step echoing faintly against the stone walls. Then she heard it—a faint shuffle of footsteps behind her. Whipping around, she found nothing but darkness.

Her breath hitched as the sound came again, closer this time. Panic surged, and she bolted down the hallway, not stopping until she reached the base of the clock tower.

"What's got you running like that, little bird?"

Cora nearly screamed at the sound of Damien's voice. He was leaning casually against the tower's entrance, his trademark smirk firmly in place. The moonlight bathed his face in a silvery glow, highlighting every perfect angle and making his already mesmerizing features almost otherworldly.

"I... I thought someone was following me," Cora stammered, clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

Damien straightened, his movements fluid and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. "If anyone was, they're long gone now," he said, his voice dripping with smugness. "Follow me, little bird."

Cora hesitated, her eyes flicking to the clock. It was stuck at 11:59, the hands eerily unmoving.

Damien noticed her hesitation and chuckled. "Scared of a clock, are we?" he teased. "Come on. I don't bite...much."

Reluctantly, Cora followed him into the passageway hidden within the tower. She hadn't even known it existed.

As they climbed the narrow staircase, her earlier question burned on her tongue. Finally, she couldn't hold it in any longer. "You said the reason Jaffet's hypnosis didn't work on me is because I'm not human. How did you know that?"

Damien didn't answer immediately, instead letting the sound of their footsteps fill the silence. It wasn't until they reached the top of the tower, the entire school sprawling beneath them, that he turned to face her.

The moonlight framed him like a halo, casting soft shadows over his impossibly flawless face. His smirk deepened as he noticed her wide eyes and trembling hands.

"Because, little bird," he said, stepping closer, his voice a low purr, "I'm not human either."

Cora froze, her heart hammering in her chest. "What... What are you?" she whispered.

Damien leaned in, his lips curving into a grin that was equal parts charming and menacing. "I'm a night creature. A vampire."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Cora's throat went dry. "But... Vampires are myths," she said, her voice barely audible.

Jaffet too had been one but she had never imagined Damien too to be a vampire, she still couldn't believe Jaffet was one and now him too .

Damien laughed, the sound rich and mocking. "Oh, little bird," he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Do I look like a myth to you, or did Jaffet?"

Her eyes roamed his face, taking in every perfect feature—the sharp cheekbones, the full lips, the piercing gaze that seemed to see straight through her. If vampires were supposed to be hideous monsters, Damien was the cruel exception.

"Well," he continued, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction, "we're not. And I'm not the only one."

"How many more of you are there ?".