Chapter 3 Unlikely
1052 Words
The list of rules sat heavy in Avane’s lap, the crisp parchment almost humming with quiet menace. Her eyes scanned the page again, each line etched into her brain like a warning rather than a welcome. No guests after sunset. No electronics beyond approved devices. No entry to the woods after dark under any circumstance. The longer she stared, the more it felt like a contract she hadn’t meant to sign.
A cold weight settled in her gut.
Blackwood University was hiding something. That much was clear. But uncovering the truth would have to wait.
Right now, she needed food.
Her stomach growled, loud and demanding, echoing in the otherwise silent dorm room. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her hoodie before pulling it on. She shoved the list into the desk drawer, grabbed her student ID from the folder the admissions officer—Mr. Semial, she remembered—had given her, and slid it into her hoodie pocket. Hopefully, there was a vending machine somewhere that didn’t require a campus map or a blood offering.
The hallway outside was eerily quiet, lit by dim sconces that cast long shadows across the polished floor. Each step she took echoed like a warning bell, and the sensation of being watched crawled over her skin like static.
Blackwood didn’t feel like a school. It felt like a stage waiting for a performance she didn’t understand.
She made her way down the stairwell to the first floor, which opened into a lounge and communal kitchen. The lounge looked like it belonged in a high-end hotel—plush velvet chairs, antique rugs, and a massive fireplace flickering quietly at the far end. The air smelled faintly of cedar and something floral.
The kitchen, just off to the right, was surprisingly modern in contrast. Avane opened the fridge, half-expecting it to be empty or locked. Instead, it was fully stocked: bottled water, fruit, milk, a carton of eggs, and a neatly labeled shelf that already had her name written in crisp handwriting.
She blinked.
They were prepared for her.
Too prepared.
She grabbed a banana and a bottled smoothie, then padded over to the lounge and sank into one of the chairs. She tried to relax, but her muscles remained tense, her senses on edge.
She had just unscrewed the smoothie cap when a voice broke the silence.
“You’re the new girl.”
Avane looked up sharply.
A girl stood in the doorway, her posture relaxed, one shoulder propped against the frame. She was about Avane’s age, maybe a little older. Her skin was a warm golden brown, her thick braid swinging over one shoulder. She wore a faded sweatshirt that read Blackwood Botany Club, and in her hand was a half-eaten granola bar.
“Yeah,” Avane said, straightening. “Avane Monroe. Scholarship student.”
The girl grinned and walked in like she owned the room, plopping onto the couch across from her. “Thought so. We don’t get many new faces. Semial had that look today—the one that says, ‘Here’s another rule-follower to break in.’ I’m Elara, by the way. Elara Wynn.”
Avane let out a small breath of relief. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Elara gave her a once-over and raised an eyebrow. “So? First impressions? Spooky yet?”
Avane hesitated, then nodded. “Definitely not your average college campus. The rules alone gave me whiplash.”
Elara laughed softly. “Yeah, Blackwood likes its control. That list you got? Barely scratches the surface.”
“And Rule Six?” Avane asked. “What’s the deal with the woods?”
Elara’s smile faltered, just a little. “That one’s real. Don’t go in there at night. People have... gone missing. Not that they put it in the brochures.”
Avane felt a chill crawl along her spine. She had felt something strange the moment she stepped onto campus, but now it felt confirmed—there was danger here, lurking just beyond the tree line.
“But hey,” Elara added, standing up and tossing her wrapper into the bin, “most of the weirdness stays in the background if you know how to keep your head down. Since you’re new, I’m officially making it my job to help you survive your first month.”
Avane blinked. “You don’t even know me.”
“I like strays,” Elara said with a wink. “And you’ve got that wide-eyed ‘what-the-hell-is-this-place’ energy. It’s adorable.”
Avane laughed, the sound surprising even herself. “Fair enough.”
“Come on, let’s unpack your stuff. Then tomorrow, I’ll give you the real tour. None of that sugar-coated nonsense Semial feeds the donors.”
Together, they climbed the stairs back to Avane’s room. Over the next hour, they unpacked her duffel bags and turned the sterile space into something that resembled a home. Elara was a whirlwind of energy and commentary, telling stories about eccentric professors, the bizarre Moon Gala tradition, and campus legends that sounded more like horror stories than student folklore.
As they finished organizing the final drawer, Avane sank onto her bed with a yawn. Her head was full of new names, strange rituals, and whispered warnings.
Elara lingered at the doorway.
“If anything ever feels off, call me. Seriously. Don’t wait until things go bump in the night.”
“Thanks,” Avane said quietly. “I appreciate it.”
“Oh, one more thing.” Elara’s tone shifted slightly, like she was offering advice learned the hard way. “Don’t trust everyone who’s nice. Blackwood’s full of charmers—especially the guys. If someone starts treating you like you’re their fated miracle, just... run.”
Avane raised an eyebrow. “That oddly specific?”
“You have no idea.” Elara flashed a grin. “Sleep tight, scholarship girl.”
With that, she disappeared down the hall.
Avane shut the door behind her and leaned against it, her heartbeat slowly settling.
She’d made a friend. That was something.
But as she moved to the window and gazed out at the shadowed treeline just beyond the edge of campus, unease crept back in.
Blackwood was beautiful. But beneath the perfection, something dark and wild pulsed, waiting in the woods.
Watching. Waiting.
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- Writer
