Things that don't scare him
1273 Words
Nobody touched the photograph at first.
The room stayed frozen around it.
Students crowded the doorway whispering over each other while THORN notifications exploded across the mansion again.
Someone was probably livestreaming already.
Blackthorn would eat this alive by morning.
SHE WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
Anastasia stared at the message on the mirror without blinking.
The lipstick dripped slowly downward like blood.
Deliberate.
Theatrics.
Whoever did this wanted fear.
Wanted attention.
Wanted people watching.
Unfortunately for them—
Anastasia Velez had spent too much of her life around dangerous people to scare easily.
But this?
This was becoming personal.
“Everyone out.”
Zane’s voice cut through the room instantly.
Low.
Controlled.
Deadly calm.
Nobody argued.
That was the terrifying thing about him.
He never shouted.
Never needed to.
People just listened.
Students immediately began filtering out of the bedroom, murmuring nervously while phones glowed in shaking hands.
Bianca lingered near the doorway.
“I’m not leaving her alone.”
“You are,” Zane said without looking at her.
Bianca crossed her arms instantly.
“I don’t take orders from emotionally constipated men.”
Under different circumstances, Mason would’ve laughed.
Right now, nobody did.
Eli stepped closer quietly.
“Bianca.”
Something in his tone made her hesitate.
Not threatening.
Serious.
“We need to clear the room.”
Bianca looked between all of them before finally exhaling dramatically.
“If anyone dies, I’m suing this entire university.”
Then she pointed at Anastasia.
“You. Stay alive.”
Soon only six people remained inside Room 208:
Anastasia.
Zane.
Mason.
Eli.
Jude.
And Damien.
Unfortunately.
Damien leaned against the wall watching the chaos with open fascination.
“Well,” he mused softly, “someone certainly has a flair for drama.”
“No one asked you to stay,” Zane replied coldly.
Damien smiled lazily.
“You wound me.”
Anastasia stepped closer to the mirror slowly.
The photograph attached beneath the message showed her outside the law building earlier that day.
Meaning whoever took it had been nearby.
Watching.
Close enough to track her movements.
Her stomach tightened slightly.
Not fear.
Awareness.
Jude noticed something first.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked toward him.
He pointed toward the bottom corner of the photograph.
Tiny silver writing.
Almost invisible.
Eli pulled the picture carefully from the mirror and narrowed his eyes.
“…There’s a timestamp.”
Anastasia stepped closer.
11:42 AM.
That was during her break between lectures.
Mason frowned.
“You were with us around noon.”
Anastasia nodded slowly.
“Meaning whoever took this had already been following me before the café.”
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Then Damien suddenly spoke.
“Interesting.”
Nobody liked the way he said that.
Zane’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What?”
Damien nodded toward the photograph.
“The angle.”
Eli looked again carefully.
Then his expression darkened too.
“This was taken from inside the administration building.”
Jude swore quietly under his breath.
Because students weren’t supposed to access those windows.
Only faculty.
Or security.
The implications settled ugly and cold across the room.
Someone inside Blackthorn was involved.
Not just a random stalker.
Someone with access.
Anastasia folded her arms slowly.
“Okay,” she said calmly. “I’m officially annoyed.”
Mason blinked at her.
“That’s your reaction?”
“What else should I do? Cry dramatically into the wallpaper?”
Damien laughed softly.
Genuine this time.
“Oh, I like her.”
Zane shot him a look sharp enough to cut skin.
Damien lifted both hands innocently.
“Relax. I’m complimenting your obsession.”
Anastasia turned toward Zane immediately.
“Your friends say strange things.”
“We’re not friends,” Damien corrected.
“That somehow feels worse.”
“It is.”
Eli stepped toward the mirror again, studying the message carefully.
“This wasn’t random intimidation.”
“No,” Zane agreed quietly.
Everyone looked at him.
Something about his tone had changed.
Subtly.
But enough.
Anastasia noticed it immediately.
“You know something.”
Not a question.
A statement.
Zane held her gaze for a long moment.
Then looked away first.
That alone told her enough.
“Zane,” Eli warned quietly.
Mason crossed his arms.
“She deserves to know.”
Damien smirked faintly from the corner.
“Oh, this should be fun.”
Zane ignored all of them.
Then finally spoke.
“Three years ago,” he said calmly, “someone started sending messages like this to a girl at Blackthorn.”
Silence filled the room instantly.
Anastasia’s pulse slowed slightly.
The missing girl.
Bianca mentioned her.
“Her name was Clara Bennett,” Eli continued quietly. “Journalism major.”
“She was at Ashford the night she disappeared,” Jude added.
Mason’s usual humor was completely gone now.
“People thought it was some rich-kid prank at first.”
Anastasia looked between them carefully.
“But it wasn’t.”
“No,” Zane said softly.
“It wasn’t.”
The room felt colder suddenly.
Damien pushed away from the wall lazily.
“You’re leaving out the best part.”
Nobody responded.
So he continued anyway.
“Clara wasn’t just some random student.”
His eyes slid toward Zane.
“She was involved with him.”
The silence afterward felt dangerous.
Personal.
Anastasia looked directly at Zane.
For the first time since meeting him—
she saw exhaustion behind his eyes.
Old exhaustion.
The kind people carried from things they never really escaped.
“What happened to her?” Anastasia asked quietly.
No one answered immediately.
Then Eli spoke carefully.
“She transferred.”
Damien laughed under his breath again.
“Still lying. Interesting.”
Zane moved instantly.
Fast enough to make Anastasia tense.
He grabbed Damien by the collar and slammed him lightly against the wall.
Hard enough to threaten.
Not enough to lose control.
“Watch your mouth.”
Damien’s grin only widened.
“There he is.”
The air between them felt razor-sharp now.
Years of hatred sitting just beneath the surface.
Anastasia stepped forward before thinking.
“Stop.”
The room paused.
Even Zane looked at her.
She held his gaze steadily.
“You’re angry,” she said calmly. “Fine. But throwing people into walls isn’t helping me.”
A beat passed.
Then another.
Slowly—
very slowly—
Zane let Damien go.
Damien adjusted his collar lazily, looking delighted rather than threatened.
“You know,” he murmured toward Anastasia, “you might actually survive him.”
“Damien,” Eli warned.
“What? It’s true.”
Then Damien’s expression shifted slightly.
More serious now.
Rare.
“If someone’s targeting you using Clara’s pattern,” he said quietly, “then this is bigger than campus drama.”
Anastasia crossed her arms tighter.
“How comforting.”
“I’m serious.”
The room noticed immediately.
Because Damien Laurent almost never sounded serious.
Then his gaze flicked briefly toward Zane.
“And if it’s connected to Matteo…”
Silence.
Again.
That name.
Anastasia’s patience finally snapped.
“Okay,” she said sharply, “someone explain why everybody keeps acting like Matteo Moretti is Voldemort.”
Mason blinked.
“…That was unexpectedly nerdy.”
“No,” Anastasia replied flatly. “What’s unexpected is everyone refusing to answer simple questions.”
Nobody spoke.
Not immediately.
Then finally—
Zane looked directly at her.
And said the one thing no one in the room wanted to hear.
“My brother is supposed to be dead.”
Silence crashed through Room 208.
Complete.
Terrible.
Then somewhere downstairs—
the mansion lights shut off again.
And this time—
someone screamed Zane’s name.
- Writer
