Tides Between Us

Selene At Silvercrest

Someone had already carved my name into the bed.

Not written. Carved. Deep, like with a knife. Selene Mar.

And that was before I even got to my room.

At first, I felt excited. But that feeling didn’t last.

The size of Silvercrest made me grin before I could stop it. Stupid, I knew. But the towers had those narrow windows like arrow slits, and the stone was darker near the ground where rain had stained it for a hundred years. I loved castles. I thought I’d love this one even more.

The thought made me smile anyway.

I dragged my suitcase up the steps. The wheels kept catching on the stone. Each jerk pulled at my shoulder. The wolf carved into the lid banged against my leg with every step. Like it was reminding me it was there.

A sound scraped from under the archway. Not close. Not far. Just there.

It was a growl. Low. Quiet. The kind a dog makes before it bites.

I froze, full stop, hand on my suitcase handle.

The sound stopped too, like whatever made it was holding its breath.

I didn’t look, I couldn’t. I dragged my suitcase faster.

My smile went numb on my face. I was still holding my breath in my chest. At nothing.

I let it out. My fingers felt frozen. Hot, like everyone could hear them shaking.

I dragged my suitcase through the doors. The hall was long and all greys. Floor, walls, ceiling. Grey like the sky before snow. Silvercrest wasn’t impressive anymore. It was heavy, like the whole building was holding its breath.

Hung along the hallway walls were paintings. Wolf heads. Dozens of them. All grey, all turned toward the doors. The paint was so old it cracked around their eyes, but the eyes weren’t cracked. They were dark. Wet-looking. Following me.

I told myself it was a trick of the light.

A door opened. A boy leaned out of a dorm room. He didn’t speak. He just stared, at my suitcase, at my face. His eyes weren’t mean. They were scared. Then he went back inside and shut the door soft, like he didn’t want me to hear the latch, like he didn’t want me to know he was afraid of me.

Another door. A girl this time. Two girls. One started to step out. The other caught her sleeve and pulled her back. They whispered. I caught one word: her.

A shiver went through my spine. Not cold. Like someone dropped ice down my shirt.

My heartbeat picked up. I could hear it in my ears over the sound of my suitcase wheels. Thud. Thud. Thud. Like a clock.

I staggered as I walked because I was trying to look at every face and also not look at any of them. My neck hurt from it.

The wolves kept watching.

I counted seven doors before I stopped counting. Every one that opened had eyes behind it. None of them said hello. None of them asked who I was. They already knew.

My room had to be here somewhere. Room 3B. Selene Mar. The ink on the little brass plate was already dry, like it had been there for days. Weeks. Years.

I pushed the door of Room 3B.

It was a small room. One bed. One desk. One window. All of it was grey wood.

The room was painted grey. It had a big sculpture of a grey wolf head, mounted right above the bed. Its mouth open. Teeth showing. Watching me too.

At the head of the bed, carved into the wood, were my initials. Selene Mar.

The letters were carved deep, like someone used a knife.

I paused for a moment without blinking, then took a deep breath. The air tasted like dust and old paper. And something else. Iron. Like blood.

I dropped my suitcase. The wheels didn’t make noise. The floor was covered in a thin grey rug. It swallowed the ground.

The desk was bare except for a key — small, silver iron, tied with a black ribbon. No note. The ribbon was new. The key wasn’t. It looked a hundred years old.

The window opened to the forest. Up close, the trees didn’t end. They were just black trunks, packed tight. No sky. No ground. Just wood, so close I could’ve reached out and touched bark if the glass wasn’t there.

I laid my tiny frame on the bed with my arms wide open and looked at the ceiling. The wolf head was right above me. If it fell, it would land on my face.

Outside, the bell rang at 4:07.

I waited.

At 5:07, it rang again.

I put my back to the wall. Pulled my knees up. My boots were still on. I didn’t want to get undressed. Didn’t want to be asleep if someone came in.

At 6:07, it rang again.

The key was on the desk. I hadn’t touched it.

Three taps hit the window.

Not branches. The trees weren’t moving. No wind.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I didn’t look. I closed my eyes tight. Don’t let them make you feel small, Grandma had said.

Shivering from fear —

I felt scared.

I had never been this scared before.

And someone was at my window.

Before I could move toward the person at the window, he moved.

With speed faster than light.

My breath seized. My chest dropped.

And then the glass was open.