THE CURSED GIRL OF HOLLOW ACADEMY

Hollow Academy was not a school for humans. From the outside, it looked like an old gothic university hidden deep in the mountains of Blackthorn. It had tall black towers that touched the clouds, stained glass windows that showed monsters instead of saints, and a gate made of ancient bones that only opened for those who were invited. The sky above it was always dark purple, even at noon. The trees around it whispered when you walked past them. Inside, every student and every teacher was a monster. There were vampires who could control blood and turn into shadows. There were werewolves who could break stone with their bare hands. There were sirens whose voices could make anyone obey their commands. There were witches who could cast spells with a word, warlocks who could summon fire, banshees whose screams could shatter glass, gorgons who could turn people to stone, phoenixes who could rise from ashes, and frost giants who could freeze a lake with one breath. There were creatures that had no name in the human world. And in Hollow Academy, your entire worth was measured by one thing - your power. On your sixteenth birthday, your power awakened. It was the most important tradition in the monster world. The Academy Bell would ring loud across all the mountains, your family would gather around you, and a glowing mark would appear on your wrist. That mark showed what you were and how strong you would become. Every monster waited for that day their whole life. Except for one girl. Her name was Elara Nightbane. She was seventeen years old, in her final year at Hollow Academy, and she had no mark. Her wrist was completely blank, pale, and empty. She was the only student in the three hundred year history of the school who had reached seventeen without awakening. They had many names for her. They called her Hollow. The Hollow Girl. The Powerless. The Mistake. On Monday morning, Elara walked through the main hallway to her class. The hallway floor was made of black marble that showed your reflection, and the ceiling was so high you could not see it. As soon as she entered, the whispers started. They followed her like cold wind. "Look, it's the cursed one. Still no power?" "How is she even still allowed to stay here? She should be expelled." "My little sister awakened at fifteen. This one is seventeen and still blank. Her family must be so ashamed." Elara kept her head down. Her long black hair covered most of her face. She wore the standard Academy uniform - a black blazer with silver buttons, a white shirt, and a black skirt - but hers was old and patched in many places. Her family, the Nightbanes, were once one of the most powerful clans of shadow weavers in the monster world. Her mother could weave darkness into sharp weapons. Her father could disappear into any shadow and travel miles. Her older brother, Darius, could summon shadow wolves that obeyed only him. But Elara had nothing. No shadow, no wolves, no darkness. She entered her classroom for Advanced Power Control. The classroom itself was alive. The walls were made of moving obsidian that shifted slowly, and the desks floated slightly off the ground. Professor Moros, a tall vampire with skin as pale as paper, eyes like red wine, and fangs that glinted when he spoke, floated at the front of the room. "Good morning, class," he said, his voice echoing. "Today we will be manifesting our second form. This is a very important skill for your final exams. Miss Thorn, please come forward and demonstrate your storm." A girl with beautiful blue skin and hair made of living, crackling lightning stood up. This was Lyra Thorn, a storm siren, and the most popular girl in the entire school. Everyone wanted to be her friend, and everyone was afraid of her. When she raised her hands, thunder cracked inside the classroom even though they were indoors, and a small tornado of pure lightning danced above her palm, making a loud buzzing sound. The class clapped loudly. "Excellent, Miss Thorn. Perfect control as always. Ten points to Tempest House. Mr. Kael, your fire, please." A boy with crimson red skin and small black horns on his head stood up. He was a phoenix demon. He smiled and his entire body burst into beautiful, harmless flame that did not burn his clothes. He laughed while on fire. One by one, every student demonstrated their power. The werewolf boy grew long claws that cut through solid steel. The gorgon girl with snakes for hair turned a red rose to grey stone with just one glance. The frost giant boy froze the entire front row of desks into ice. Then Professor Moros looked at Elara. His smile was not kind. It was cruel. "And... Miss Nightbane. Would you like to... try to show us something? Anything at all?" The whole class turned to look at her. Some students were already laughing quietly. Lyra Thorn whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Maybe she can manifest disappointment. That is her only power." Elara stood up slowly. Her hands were shaking badly. Her blank wrist felt like it was burning with shame. She hated this moment. She had lived through it every week for two years. "I... I am trying, Professor. I am really trying." "Trying for two years now, Miss Nightbane. Perhaps the Academy made a mistake when they invited you. Perhaps you are not a monster at all. Perhaps you are just a human who got lost." That made the class laugh even harder. A boy in the front row threw a small paper ball at her. It hit her cheek and fell to the floor. "Powerless! Go home!" Elara could not take it anymore. Tears filled her eyes. She pushed her chair back, the loud noise echoing, and ran out of the classroom. She ran fast, her patched shoes hitting the marble floor, while their laughter followed her down the hall.