MIDNIGHT MAYHEM

Episode 1: The Transfer to Nowhere** The letter came at exactly midnight. Not through the post, not by owl, and certainly not by email. It dropped from the sky like a black leaf and smacked Kai Velden squarely in the forehead as he stepped outside to take out the trash. He blinked, more annoyed than surprised—strange things had been happening all week. On Tuesday, his reflection waved at him. On Thursday, his socks howled at the moon. Kai opened the envelope, which was sealed with wax and stamped with a crescent moon entangled with a snarling wolf. It read: *"You have been accepted to Nightmoor Academy. Pack only what can follow you through shadows. Transportation arrives at 12:06 a.m. sharp. Miss it, and you're stuck with day school."* He flipped the letter over. Nothing. No address. No sender. Not even a “sincerely.” Just an odd shimmer that made his hands feel cold. Most people would’ve dismissed it as a prank. But Kai wasn’t most people. Twelve hours later, he stood at the decrepit train station on the edge of town, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a flashlight in his pocket that blinked “NOPE” in Morse code. At precisely 12:06 a.m., the air rippled like a puddle, and a train emerged from nothing. It didn’t ride on rails—it glided, screeching in a voice that sounded suspiciously like sarcasm. The headlight was a glowing jack-o’-lantern with smoke pouring from its eyes. The conductor stepped off, dressed in an old-fashioned uniform that might’ve been black if it wasn’t transparent. His eyes were two flickering candles in a skull. “Velden, Kai?” he asked in a gravelly voice. “Yeah?” “Luggage?” Kai held up his bag. The conductor shook his head. “Too physical. Can’t take anything with cotton after midnight. Train rules.” Before Kai could protest, the bag vanished with a soft *pop*. “Guess that’s that,” he muttered and stepped aboard. The train interior was velvet and shadows, smelling faintly of lavender and cemetery moss. A few other passengers were scattered through the cars—a woman with bat wings typing furiously on a floating laptop, a skeleton reading *Ghost Vogue*, and a child made entirely of fog. Kai found an empty seat. It immediately tried to eat him, then decided he was too chewy and settled. The ride was a blur of stars, fog, and laughter from places he couldn’t see. Occasionally, announcements crackled over the intercom: “Reminder: ghosts ride for free, but must not scream unless authorized.” “Werewolves, please keep your paws in the vehicle at all times.” “And to the vampire in Car 3—yes, we *know* it's blood pudding. Stop bragging.” Kai stared out the window. Nothing passed by—just more fog. Then, with a screech that sounded like it was tired of existing, the train stopped. “Nightmoor Academy,” the conductor bellowed. “Please don’t feed the gargoyles.” The school loomed on a hill, a gothic masterpiece lit only by moonlight. Towers twisted into the sky like fingers trying to claw the stars. Windows glowed gold, green, and occasionally blinked. A creature that looked like a cross between a wolf and a man (but in a janitor's uniform) tossed Kai a student handbook and pointed to the dorms. Room 66B. Sixth floor. Hall of Echoes. Sounds worse than it was—unless you didn’t like hearing people cry in Latin. His dormmate floated in through the wall five minutes later. “Yo. Nox. Ghost. Don't mind the weird smell; it’s metaphysical,” he said, phasing through a chair and lounging mid-air. “You're the new guy?” “Apparently.” “Any powers?” Kai hesitated. “I... don’t think so.” Nox nodded sagely. “Cool. You’ll either get them or they’ll get you.” Later that night, unable to sleep, Kai wandered the grounds. The academy was weird, sure—but beautiful in a way. Every hallway hummed with energy, every painting whispered stories in a language he almost understood. And then he saw her. Standing by the forest’s edge, bathed in silver moonlight, was a girl. She had messy black hair, amber eyes that glowed in the dark, and a posture that suggested she could break a tree in half—and might, if the tree annoyed her. Her gaze locked with his. Something clicked—like a memory he hadn’t lived. Then she vanished. Not ran. Not faded. Just gone. Kai stood there for a while, heart racing, wondering if he’d just seen a ghost, a hallucination, or something more dangerous. Whatever she was, she wasn’t normal. And neither, he was beginning to realize, was he.