A Vampire Odyssey: Crimson Encounters

Chapter Two

I gazed out of the car window, my face set in a scowl as the trees and lampposts blurred past. Frustration simmered in my chest, refusing to be ignored.

I’d expected a long lecture the moment I got home last night. But no. Mom and Dad weren’t there—again. This morning, I was sure I’d get scolded, maybe during breakfast, but the dining table was eerily empty. Butler Ren, the only adult witness to my little escapade, hadn’t even bothered to rat me out.

If I’d known there’d be no consequences, I might as well have let those goons beat me up. At least then, Mom and Dad might’ve actually rushed to see me for once.

I groaned, ruffling my hair in irritation. Hunger gnawed at my stomach—I’d only had milk earlier. And no, it wasn’t because I was on a diet. My metabolism would never forgive me for starving it. My bad mood clung to me like a cloud, and I spent the entire car ride sulking.

Homerium Academy wasn’t far from our subdivision—barely a kilometer away, to be exact. That’s probably why Mom had insisted I transfer here for college. My former school, her beloved alma mater, was too far for her liking.

Not that I knew much about this academy. It was an enigma to me. The little I’d heard made it sound confusing and... well, weird.

According to Mom’s secretary, only wealthy families like ours could afford the tuition. Yet, at the same time, the school accepted a surprising number of scholars. However, not all brilliant students made the cut. Mom’s secretary had mentioned a valedictorian who failed the scholarship exams for reasons no one could explain.

It didn’t make sense.

I mulled over this mystery until the car slowed down in front of an imposing black gate. The school’s name was etched across it in a gothic font, elegant yet far from ominous. Its metallic sheen gleamed under the sunlight, catching my eye. Was it glowing? I shook my head. Probably just a trick of the light reflecting off its polished silver surface.

When the car came to a halt, I grabbed my bag and adjusted my gold-and-black checkered necktie. As Manong Ruel opened the car door for me, I stepped out and tugged lightly at the hem of my skirt—it was two inches above the knee, perfectly tailored to match the tie’s pattern.

“Good luck, Ma’am Laisha,” Manong said with a small bow before driving off. I barely heard him. My attention was glued to my surroundings.

The school was stunning. Beautifully landscaped gardens flanked the path leading up to the main building. Rows of vibrant flowers lined the walkway, their colors unusually vivid. The grass, neatly trimmed, almost seemed too green, like something out of a dream.

It felt... magical.

Why hadn’t I enrolled here sooner?

Still, something about the place felt off. I’d been wandering the grounds for a while, yet I hadn’t seen a single student. Not one. I glanced at my watch: 7:30 AM. I was 30 minutes early for my first class. Could I be late by their standards? Maybe there was some unspoken rule about being in the classroom half an hour before class started.

My gaze fell on a tall red building directly in front of me, the first structure visible past the gates. It towered at least 15 floors high, its modern architecture blending seamlessly with the school’s mystical ambiance. My brows furrowed as I caught a flash of red light from one of the third-floor windows. I squinted, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Weird.

I dismissed it and focused on finding my building. Mom had told me the building assigned to me would match the yellow linings on my blouse. My eyes darted to the west wing, where a smaller yellow building stood apart from the rest. Unlike the tightly packed red, green, and brown buildings—separated by barely a meter—the yellow one was isolated, as though it didn’t belong.

Curious, but not curious enough to dwell on it, I made my way over.

The Pecunia Building, as a plaque on the wall identified it, was much smaller than the others, with only a few floors. I assumed it was named after the Latin word for money, given its theme—coins were carved into the walls in intricate patterns.

It didn’t take long to find my first classroom, conveniently located on the ground floor. I knocked on the door, noting that the windows were covered with thick black curtains. Why were all the buildings here so... dark? Did the staff have an aversion to sunlight?

The door creaked open, and I suppressed a groan at the sound. Standing in the doorway was a stern-looking woman—our professor, I assumed. Her gaze was sharp, and her expression was unreadable.

“May I come in?” I asked, forcing a polite smile.

Without a word, she stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter.

The room was painted a soft pastel yellow, its warm tones contrasting with the rigid brown desks arranged in neat rows. My classmates—around 20 in total—sat in silence, their faces blank as if waiting for something.

The professor walked to the front of the class, her hands clasped behind her back. Her movements were deliberate, her posture straight. She didn’t even bother with introductions.

“As I was saying earlier,” she began, her tone cold and commanding, “avoid mingling with students from other buildings. Stick to those with the same color linings as yours—yellow. If you choose to ignore this rule, understand that you’ve been warned. Stay away from trouble.”

Her words sent a ripple of unease through the room. I frowned. Why would we need to stay away from students in other buildings? Were they contagious? Dangerous?

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of lectures and stern warnings from other professors. By the time the third subject rolled around, our teacher was a no-show, and students began filtering out of the room.

“Hey,” a voice called out as I reached the doorway.

I turned to see the guy who’d been sitting next to me all morning. He was tall, with neatly combed hair and an easygoing smile.

“Our cafeteria’s that way,” he said, jerking his thumb toward a room at the far end of the hallway.

I followed his gesture, confused. “That’s our cafeteria? What about the one over there?” I pointed to a large building near the red one, where students from the brown and green buildings were heading.

He chuckled softly. “Each building here has its own cafeteria. Pecunia’s students are special.”

“Special?” I repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“Not that kind of special,” he clarified, smirking. “We’re just... different.”

His vague explanation didn’t satisfy my curiosity, but I let it slide.

We walked to the cafeteria together, and I couldn’t help but notice how empty the halls felt. Were there really so few students in Pecunia? The spacious cafeteria seemed to confirm it.

After grabbing our food, we settled at a table in the back. “I’m Laisha. Yllaishja de Acosta,” I introduced myself, holding out a hand.

“Yu,” he replied, shaking it briefly. “Just Yu. Easier to remember.”

Our conversation was light, filled with banter about the school and its quirks. But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, a nagging feeling gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.

Something about this place wasn’t right.

The day ended without incident, leaving me both relieved and disappointed. As I stepped out of the building, I glanced toward the red structure again. For a moment, I thought I saw someone watching me from a dark alley beside it.

Their eyes were glowing red.

I blinked, and the figure vanished.

A chill ran down my spine as I continued walking, my mind racing with questions. Whatever was happening in Homerium Academy, I was determined to uncover it.