Clinging Shadows

The hospital doors swung shut behind them, and the sharp evening air bit at Cora's skin through her clothes . Amelia leaned into her, still weak from her injuries, despite her stubborn insistence that she was fine.

Cora's dark eyes flickered around , expecting to see Damien's looming presence or at least Leonard's watchful stare. But they were gone. Just like that.

A sudden impact jolted her as she turned the corner, colliding hard against someone. A sharp grunt sounded, followed by the unmistakable thud of books scattering onto the floor.

Cora barely had time to regain her footing before her gaze landed on the man before her.

Professor Graves.

His piercing eyes settled on her, taking in her masked face with an expression that was unreadable, yet unsettling. His lips curved slightly, but the amusement in his gaze didn't reach his smile.

Cora quickly bent down, gathering the fallen books with swift, practiced movements. "I'm sorry for bumping into you, sir."

Graves didn't answer immediately. He studied her in silence, the weight of his gaze making her shift uncomfortably.

"Are you a freshman? I don't recall seeing you before."

Cora hesitated. "Yes. I started this year."

Graves' thin smile widened, but something about it made her uneasy. "I see."

His fingers brushed against hers as he took the books from her hands, and for a fleeting second, a strange sensation prickled down her spine. Cold, like a whisper of something full of darkness.

"What's your name?"

Cora felt Amelia's grip tighten on her arm. Something told her not to answer, but Graves' expectant stare left little room for hesitation.

"Cora Mercedes, sir."

Graves gave a small nod, his gaze lingering on her for a moment too long before he stepped past them.

Cora exhaled, feeling a tension she hadn't realized was there ease slightly. But as they walked away, she could sense it—his gaze still following her retreating figure.

His thoughts were unreadable, but one thing was certain.

He would be reporting this to the Dean.

Back inside Damien's private library, hidden within the depths of the school's grand archives, the scent of aged parchment and leather-bound books filled the air.

Maximilian stood by the towering shelves, his usual air of lazy confidence replaced with something more contemplative. His fingers idly traced the spine of a book, but his mind was far from the words within.

Leonard sprawled across a velvet sofa, flipping through a thick tome with the kind of nonchalance only he could pull off.

Damien entered, his presence as commanding as ever, exuding an effortless arrogance that filled the room like an unshakable force.

Maximilian barely spared him a glance.

"You've been acting off lately," Leonard remarked, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "Even more than usual. And that's saying something."

Maximilian finally turned, his expression dark. "I've been remembering things from the past ."

Damien arched a brow, strolling toward a chair with the kind of unhurried grace that only someone who owned the world could manage. He dropped into it with a smirk. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do with forgotten memories?"

Maximilian shot him a glare. "You don't get it. These aren't just any memories. They're pieces of something—something that was missing. They're coming back, and it feels like they're trying to warn us of something that happened in the past or is about to come ."

Damien's smirk didn't waver. "You've always been the sentimental one."

Leonard leaned forward. "What kind of memories?"

Maximilian hesitated looking at Damien briefly before answering. "Alicia."

The room fell into a thick silence.

Leonard's gaze darkened. "We don't say her name."

Damien, for once, was quiet. His fingers drummed against the armrest, the only sign that the name had struck something within him.

Maximilian ignored Leonard's warning. "I remember when you met her, Damien. But I don't remember what happened after." He turned to look at him directly. "You feel it too, don't you? The pull. As if she's near by "

Damien's expression was unreadable, but his smirk slowly returned, lazy and knowing.

"Are you suggesting that Cora is Alicia?" His tone was dripping with amusement, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it.

That has been the reason he's all around her , he could feel she's the one he's been waiting for, for centuries but something feels off.

Maximilian shook his head. "I don't know. But I do know that something doesn't add up."

Leonard exhaled sharply. "Like the fact that she never takes off that damn mask?"

Damien tilted his head, his smirk widening. "It is quite the mystery, isn't it?" His gaze flickered to Maximilian. "But tell me, Max, why do you care so much?"

Maximilian clenched his jaw. "Because we all lost something that day. And we still don't know what it was."

Damien leaned back, resting his chin on his hand. "Then I suppose we'll have to find out."

"But leave Cora to me she's mine to unravel "Damien smiled leaning back .

It was time he used other methods to find out who she was than delay it and test out theories.

Back at the hallways , Cora barely had time to process the events of the day before the whispers reached her ears.

"…They caught him."

"…Michael? Really?"

"…Murderer. Who would have thought?"

She stopped mid-step, her heart lurching.

Michael? Arrested?

For a murder he didn't commit?

Her hands curled into fists as the realization hit her. They were covering up Jaffet's death—pinning it on an innocent person to keep the real reasons in the shadows.

Was that what this place was made up of ? Lies buried behind innocent people?.

She swallowed hard, forcing down the bitter taste of guilt as Amelia tugged her forward.

"It looks like Jaffet's murderer has been caught," Amelia mumbled, her voice carrying a note of satisfaction.

Cora didn't respond. She couldn't.

Not when she knew the truth.

Not when she knew the real murderer was Damien and he had killed Jaffet to silence him from speaking out what he discovered in the library that day , that she wasn't human .

She forced herself to breathe.

They reached their dormitory, and Cora pulled out her keys. But the moment she slid them into the lock, a chill crawled down her spine.

The door was already open.

She froze.

Had she forgotten to lock it this morning when she came back with Damien? No, she was certain she had.

Amelia frowned. "Looks like you were careless."

Cora's grip on the handle tightened. No, this wasn't carelessness. Someone had been here.

The door to the adjacent dorm creaked open, and a girl peered out, her expression unreadable.

"You two didn't come back last night," she said, her tone oddly neutral. "Where were you?"

Cora exchanged a glance with Amelia. The girl had never spoken to them before—never even acknowledged their existence. So why now?

"We had… work," Amelia answered vaguely, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. "Why do you care?"

The girl didn't respond, her gaze flickering briefly toward Cora's masked face before she slipped back inside her room.

Cora hesitated before pushing open the door to their dorm.

Nothing seemed out of place.

And yet, something felt undeniably wrong.

A whisper of something unseen, something lurking just beyond her reach.

A feeling she couldn't shake.

Someone had been here.

And they had been looking for something.

Or worse…

For her.