MYSTERY

The morning sun cast its golden rays over the school, but the air was anything but bright. The sudden announcement of an early holiday had sent the entire student body into a frenzy.

The once-orderly halls were now filled with the murmur of speculative whispers and theories flying from one group to another. Students huddled in corners, their voices hushed yet eager, each trying to outdo the other with their version of what might have happened. Some swore they saw the headmistress speaking to a police officer, others claimed a teacher had fallen seriously ill, and a few even whispered about an old curse finally catching up to the school.

Tasha maneuvered through the bustling hallway, her mind heavy with the weight of last night's events. Every sound around her—shoes scuffing against the tiled floors, lockers slamming shut, girls laughing—felt distant, muffled by the echo of the horrific scene in the library.

Collins, meanwhile, was in his dorm room, sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. Sleep had not been kind to him. The nightmare still clung to his thoughts like cobwebs.

He had been standing in the library alone, surrounded by towering bookshelves. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, but something was wrong. The shadows stretched unnaturally, twisting like living things. Then came a voice—not spoken, but breathed into his very bones.

"The debt is being paid."

His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he turned, only to find Celeste and Alexander's corpses still slumped against the shelves. But this time, they weren't just dead. Their mouths moved, forming soundless words. Then, Celeste's head snapped toward him, her lifeless eyes locking onto his.

"Collins… it's not over."

A force suddenly gripped his neck, choking him. He gasped, clawing at his throat, but there was nothing there. The unseen hands tightened. He struggled, his vision blurring—until he jolted awake, drenched in sweat.

He rubbed his temples, forcing the memory out of his head. It was just a dream. Or at least, he told himself it was.

In her dorm, Tasha had also woken up shaken. Her nightmare had been different but equally terrifying.

She had been in a vast, empty room—no walls, no ceiling, just an endless white void. Then, she saw them—figures with blank faces, standing in a circle around her. She tried to move, but her feet were glued to the ground. The figures began whispering.

"You saw too much."

"You should have stayed blind."

"Now you belong to the silence."

Then, a single figure stepped forward. Unlike the others, it had a face.

It was her uncle.

His eyes were hollow, his lips curled into a grotesque smile. He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. His grip was ice-cold.

"Come home, Tasha."

The moment his fingers tightened, she screamed herself awake.

By the time the breakfast bell rang, Tasha, Collins, Lina, and Naomi had already made up their minds. No one would talk about what happened.

They met under the large oak tree near the cafeteria, away from eavesdropping ears. Collins, arms crossed, leaned against the trunk while Lina paced anxiously. Naomi sat on a low branch, her face paler than usual.

"We're not saying a word," Collins stated firmly. "Not to anyone."

Lina scoffed. "Oh, yeah? What if Grimshaw already knows something?"

"She doesn't," Collins said. "But she will."

They all looked at him in confusion.

"I left her a little note," he admitted, running a hand through his messy hair. "Just enough to make her check the library herself."

"You wrote a letter?" Naomi asked, her voice rising in alarm.

"Relax. I didn't sign it, and I didn't use my handwriting," he assured them. "She'll find the bodies, deal with it, and that'll be the end of it. We don't have to be involved."

Tasha exhaled slowly. "And what if—"

Before she could finish, the sound of car engines pulling up near the school entrance cut through their conversation. Lina and Naomi's parents had arrived.

Lina turned to the group. "Well, I guess this is it."

"Yeah," Naomi murmured. "We'll see each other after the holiday."

They exchanged brief hugs before Lina and Naomi hurried off. That left only Tasha and Collins.

With some time to spare before Collins' ride arrived, he turned to Tasha with a smirk. "What do you say we take a walk? Clear our heads?"

Tasha hesitated before nodding. "Yeah… I'd like that."

They wandered through the school grounds, past the empty basketball court and the flower gardens, before settling on a stone bench near the old chapel. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was thoughtful.

"You know," Collins began, staring at the sky, "I wasn't always this annoying."

Tasha chuckled. "Really? Hard to believe."

He grinned. "Yeah, well, my parents used to say I was the quiet type. That was before they… you know."

His voice trailed off, and Tasha didn't need him to finish. She knew his parents had been killed by something unnatural, something he never fully talked about.

She hesitated before sharing her own truth. "My parents died in a plane crash. Or at least, that's what I was told. I don't remember much. Just… one day, they were there. The next, I was living with my uncle."

Collins glanced at her. "The one you hate?"

"The one I hate," she confirmed. "He treated me like a burden. The only reason I'm even at this school is because my dad had some history with it. Scholarship, lucky me."

Collins frowned. "That's not lucky. That's surviving."

She looked at him then, really looked at him. And for the first time, she felt a connection deeper than just friendship.

The air grew still between them. Collins shifted slightly closer, his usual cocky demeanor gone. His fingers brushed against hers.

Tasha didn't pull away.

Neither of them spoke, but the moment felt heavy—undeniable. Collins tilted his head slightly, gauging her reaction before slowly leaning in.

Tasha's heart pounded, but she didn't resist. She closed the space between them, their lips finally meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss.

It was warm, unfamiliar, yet… right.

But just as the moment deepened, a loud car horn broke the silence, making them both jump.

Collins' guards had arrived.

As Collins and Tasha made their way back, he turned to her. "You don't have to go to your uncle's place. Come with me."

Tasha blinked. "You mean—?"

"My house. Stay there. No strings, just… until things settle."

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding.

Meanwhile, inside her office, Headmistress Grimshaw unfolded a single sheet of paper. The writing was crude, rushed. The message simple:

"Check the library."

Frowning, she rose from her desk and made her way through the silent hallways. When she finally reached the library doors, she pushed them open—and stopped dead in her tracks.

Her breath hitched.

There, slumped against the bookshelves, lay two lifeless bodies.

Blood smeared across their chests, forming a single, cryptic message:

"The debt is being paid."

Her fingers trembled as she took a step back, her mind racing.

Then, ever so faintly, the sound of whispering filled the air.