CHAPTER 4_ Demons in Crestview
1335 Words
•°~ Crestview Academy~°•
Crestview Academy was not a normal school.
It never tried to be.
---
Built high above the city on private grounds surrounded by iron gates and untouched gardens, the academy looked less like a place for students and more like a place designed to manufacture power.
Everything about it was expensive.
The buildings.
The uniforms.
The silence.
Even the air inside Crestview carried a strange kind of superiority.
---
Children of politicians attended Crestview Academy.
Children of celebrities.
Business heirs.
Future company owners.
Families whose names opened doors before introductions were even made.
Students arrived in black luxury cars every morning, escorted by drivers and bodyguards like royalty disguised as teenagers.
At Crestview, reputation mattered almost as much as bloodline.
Sometimes more.
---
People there learned early how to smile without meaning it.
How to destroy someone quietly.
How to survive socially before surviving academically.
Because Crestview Academy wasn’t dangerous in obvious ways.
Its cruelty was elegant.
Hidden beneath perfect grades, expensive watches, and polished hallways.
---
And once upon a time—
Arielle Vance had walked through those gates pretending she belonged there too.
---
The academy stood exactly the same now.
Tall white buildings.
Massive glass windows reflecting the morning sky.
Students moving through the entrance with effortless confidence.
Like the world had already promised them success before they earned it.
---
Arielle stood outside the gates silently.
The wind moved lightly through her hair.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
---
Four years ago, this place had terrified her.
Not because of the teachers.
Not because of the lessons.
Because of the people.
---
The first memory came back suddenly.
Too fast.
---
💔 MEMORY
Whispers following behind her.
Low voices pretending not to be heard.
---
> “She’s the scholarship girl.”
> “She doesn’t belong here.”
> “Look at her shoes.”
---
Laughter.
Sharp.
Small.
Cruel in the casual way rich people often mastered.
---
Arielle remembered lowering her head then.
Walking faster.
Pretending she couldn’t hear it.
Even though every word stayed.
---
Another memory followed immediately after.
Different this time.
Warmer.
---
A hand grabbing her wrist before she could leave the courtyard.
Someone pulling her back toward a table full of loud voices and unfinished conversations.
---
> “Sit with us.”
---
Simple words.
But at Crestview Academy, kindness felt almost revolutionary.
---
That was the beginning.
Not of love.
Not yet.
Just belonging.
---
Another flash.
Laughter echoing through empty hallways after class.
Sneaking food into the music room because they weren’t supposed to eat there.
Arguments over nothing.
Shared headphones.
Shared secrets.
Shared silence.
---
Crestview held all of it.
Every version of them.
The happy ones.
The broken ones.
The versions before betrayal ruined everything.
---
Arielle looked up at the academy building again.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Not from fear.
From memory.
---
Because no matter how badly things ended…
this place had once held the closest thing she ever had to home.
---
Students continued walking past her without recognition.
No one looked twice.
No one knew who she was yet.
That wouldn’t last long.
---
The gates stood open.
Waiting.
Silent.
Almost expectant.
---
Arielle exhaled slowly.
Then finally stepped forward.
Back into the place where everything started.
And where, eventually—
everything would end too.
..................
Morning at Crestview Academy was never truly quiet.
But the moment the sound of engines rolled through the front entrance—
everything stopped.
---
Conversations died instantly.
Footsteps slowed.
Heads turned.
Even the air itself seemed to pause.
---
Four black luxury cars entered the academy grounds one after another, polished to perfection beneath the morning light.
Not ordinary expensive.
The kind of expensive that announced power before the doors even opened.
Students immediately began whispering.
Then louder.
Then louder.
---
“They’re here.”
“No way—”
“Look! Look!”
“Oh my God—”
---
Phones came out instantly.
Excitement spread through the courtyard like wildfire.
Especially among the girls.
---
Because everyone at Crestview Academy knew them.
The boys who ruled the school without ever officially trying to.
The boys teachers tolerated.
The boys students feared.
The boys nobody challenged twice.
---
The first car door opened.
Then the second.
Then the third.
---
And chaos followed.
---
Marco De Santis stepped out first, dark sunglasses resting lazily against his nose, expression already irritated like the world had interrupted him by existing.
Girls immediately started whispering louder.
Some calling his name.
Some pretending not to stare while staring anyway.
---
Another door opened.
Elias Romano stepped out next, calm as ever, headphones around his neck, hands tucked into his pockets like he couldn’t hear the noise around him.
That only made people look more.
Because Elias carried silence differently.
The dangerous kind.
---
Then Isabella Rinaldi stepped out from another car, sharp eyes already scanning the crowd with visible annoyance.
She ignored every greeting thrown her way.
Every compliment.
Every stare.
---
But then—
The last door opened.
And the entire atmosphere changed.
---
Lucien Moretti stepped out slowly.
No rush.
No expression.
No interest in the noise exploding around him.
---
His black shirt hung loosely over one shoulder instead of properly worn, exposing the dark ink stretching across his chest and down his arm.
Sharp tattoos.
Chaotic lines.
Black against skin like warnings carved directly into him.
---
The screams started immediately.
Louder than before.
More reckless.
---
“Oh my God—”
“Lucien!”
“Look at him—”
“He’s insane—”
---
Girls nearly stumbled over each other trying to get closer.
Trying to look longer.
Trying to exist inside his attention for even a second.
---
Because Lucien Moretti carried danger the way other people carried confidence.
Naturally.
Effortlessly.
Terrifyingly.
---
But despite the screaming—
despite the obsession—
despite the desperate stares—
not one person actually approached him.
Not one.
---
Because everyone at Crestview Academy understood one thing about Lucien:
Admiring him from afar was safe.
Getting close was not.
---
Lucien walked forward without acknowledging anyone.
Not the voices.
Not the cameras.
Not the attention swallowing the courtyard whole.
---
His expression remained unreadable.
Cold.
Untouchable.
---
And somehow… that only made the crowd react harder.
---
The air around him felt wrong in a way people couldn’t explain.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Like standing too close to fire and knowing it would burn you—but staying anyway.
---
A group of girls near the staircase whispered frantically to each other.
“He’s even hotter in person…”
“No, seriously, look at him—”
“I heard he broke someone’s jaw last semester.”
“That’s exactly why he’s scary.”
---
Lucien didn’t react.
Didn’t slow down.
Didn’t care.
---
Marco smirked slightly at the chaos around them.
“Every year gets worse,” he muttered.
---
Isabella rolled her eyes.
“They’re acting like wild animals.”
---
Elias said nothing.
His gaze remained distant.
Elsewhere.
---
Meanwhile, students instinctively moved out of Lucien’s path as he walked.
Not because he asked them to.
Because fear moved faster than instructions.
---
The sound of his boots against the pavement echoed quietly beneath the noise.
Steady.
Controlled.
Certain.
---
And for some reason—
this morning felt different.
---
Lucien noticed it immediately.
Not visibly.
But something inside him sharpened slightly.
Like instinct reacting before logic could catch up.
---
His steps slowed for half a second.
Eyes lifting toward the academy building.
---
Silence pressed strangely against his chest.
Familiar.
Wrong.
Close.
---
Then it disappeared.
Just as quickly as it came.
---
Lucien kept walking.
Expression unchanged.
Aura just as dangerous.
---
But somewhere inside Crestview Academy—
the past had already stepped back onto the same ground as him.
And neither of them knew
how catastrophic that would become.
- Writer
