MOON BOUND DECEPTION

Chapter 4 The Real Blackwood

Sunlight spilled through the window blinds, sharp and golden, forcing Avane to squint as she stirred awake. Her room looked almost peaceful in the morning light, the fear and unease from last night momentarily pushed aside by the promise of a new day.

There was a knock at her door before she could stretch.

“Up and at ’em, scholarship girl,” Elara called through the door. “You promised to survive, and that means coffee first.”

Avane chuckled softly and rolled out of bed, pulling on jeans and a Blackwood hoodie she’d been issued during check-in. When she opened the door, Elara was already waiting with two steaming to-go mugs.

“Did you break into the kitchen?” Avane asked, accepting the cup.

“I broke into the coffee machine,” Elara replied. “There’s a difference. Now come on. Tour time.”

They stepped into the hallway and descended the stairs. The building felt warmer during the day—less haunted, more alive. The dorm was quiet but not unsettling, with the occasional door cracked open and faint music playing from unseen speakers.

Outside, the campus looked almost too perfect. Ivy curled up the sides of stone buildings, birds chirped from nearby trees, and the winding paths between buildings were lined with colorful flower beds. It felt like walking through a movie set, where every blade of grass had been carefully placed.

“So this is your official-unofficial Blackwood tour,” Elara said, gesturing broadly. “Forget the brochures and donor-approved itineraries. I’m giving you the real version.”

Avane took a sip of her coffee. “Lead the way.”

They began with the heart of campus—the central courtyard surrounded by academic buildings. The architecture was a blend of gothic and modern, giving the university an eerie elegance. Elara pointed out the Humanities Hall, which she claimed was haunted by a lovesick professor, the Science Wing—home to a chemistry lab that “mysteriously” caught fire every few years—and the lecture theater that students swore always felt colder on the left side.

Then came the gardens.

“This used to be a hedge maze,” Elara said, nudging Avane’s elbow. “They tore it down after a student got stuck overnight and had a breakdown. Or maybe that’s just a rumor. Either way, don’t wander back here alone.”

They looped around the back of the greenhouse, where the Botany Club met.

“That’s my domain,” Elara said proudly. “We grow medicinal herbs, orchids, and about six different types of night-blooming plants. Some of them are toxic. But only if you piss them off.”

Avane arched an eyebrow. “That supposed to be a joke?”

Elara only smirked. “Who knows?”

After an hour of wandering—past dormitories, an old bell tower that chimed even when unplugged, and the Moon Court amphitheater (used for ceremonies and, apparently, very awkward couples’ fights)—they reached the campus gates.

Beyond them lay the winding road that led down to the town of Blackwood Hollow.

“You ready for the second half of the tour?” Elara asked. “We’re grabbing supplies in town. You’ll need essentials that don’t come in the standard scholarship care pack. Plus, if you’re going to be here a while, you might as well learn where the good snacks are.”

Avane nodded, brushing hair from her face. “Let me guess—another haunted grocery store?”

“Nope,” Elara said. “Just a weird one.”

They followed the path down the hill into the valley. The town of Blackwood Hollow appeared slowly through the trees, a quaint little village tucked into the forest like a secret. Cobblestone streets curved between timber-framed buildings, most of them two stories high. Cafés, antique shops, and a dusty bookstore filled the main square. A wrought iron clock tower rose at the center, chiming noon as they entered.

It was beautiful—storybook pretty. But Avane couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched again.

“Welcome to the Hollow,” Elara said. “Locals are... complicated. Some love the university. Others think we’re spoiled freaks. Don’t worry, though. I’ll run interference.”

They started at a corner market called Wren’s General, a cluttered little shop that smelled like cinnamon and pine. Avane grabbed toothpaste, a better pillow, snacks, and a thick notebook. She noticed Elara buying dried lavender, a glass jar labeled sleep root, and a black candle she didn’t explain.

“Some dorms creak at night,” Elara said simply when Avane raised an eyebrow.

Next, they visited a tiny bookstore called The Burrow, where a sleepy cat dozed on the counter. Elara browsed while Avane flipped through old horror novels and myth anthologies. One book, bound in faded red leather, caught her attention. The title: The Moonbound Folk: Truth, Lore, and Legend.

Elara noticed her interest. “Careful with that one. It’ll mess with your head.”

Avane smiled faintly. “I like messed-up stories.”

“Good,” Elara said, tapping the cover. “Because you’re living in one.”

They left with bags full of supplies and walked slowly back toward campus. The sky had turned cloudy, casting long shadows over the town. A breeze picked up, rustling the leaves with a low, whispering sound that seemed to echo through the trees.

“Do you ever feel like... something’s watching us?” Avane asked softly.

“All the time,” Elara replied. “It’s not just paranoia. It’s instinct. And yours is probably starting to wake up.”

Avane frowned. “What does that mean?”

But Elara just gave her a look and didn’t answer.

Back at campus, they dropped off their things in Avane’s room. The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, casting the sky in shades of rose and gold.

Elara lingered at the door. “Tomorrow’s your first class, right?”

“Yeah. Political Theory with Professor Halbrook.”

“Watch out for him. He stares too long and never blinks enough. And avoid sitting in the front row. Just... trust me.”

Avane laughed, then sobered. “Thanks for today. Really. It helped.”

Elara shrugged one shoulder, her braid swinging slightly. “We all needed someone on our first day. You’ve got me.”

She started to walk away, then paused.

“Oh—and don’t go near the south trail after dark. You’ll hear things. Just pretend you didn’t.”

Avane’s stomach dropped a little. “More people disappearing?”

Elara didn’t reply. She just winked and vanished down the hall.

Alone again, Avane unpacked her supplies, set the candle on her desk—just in case—and finally opened the red leather book.

She flipped to a chapter titled Moonbound Bloodlines.

Her eyes scanned the page.

> “The Moonbound are not simply cursed by the moon—they are of it. Marked by nature, drawn to one another by fate, their blood sings in the presence of true power.”

Avane’s hand stilled on the page.

Outside, the woods rustled. A low sound, like a growl, echoed faintly through the trees.

She closed the book.

Something was waking up.

And it was starting with her.