K-Hoes

Creative Impulses

Bobby and Greer headed down the winding dirt path toward the lone willow tree, carrying their heavy wooden sketchpads and a tackle box of paints. The scenery here was absolutely breathtaking—a secluded, vibrant oasis away from the bleakness of the main campus buildings. Beside the massive, sweeping branches of the willow layout lay a small, glassy lake, its surface currently covered in beautiful, rhythmic swarms of small water birds.

They set up their easels in the grass and immediately began to sketch, taking in the serene view."

Hey, Arlo!" Jude called out cheerfully, catching up to his roommate on the paved pathway leading back to their quarters. He wrapped a heavy arm around Arlo's shoulders, flashing a bright grin. "Did you hear that? No classes for a whole week!"

"Yeah," Arlo said quietly, shifting his heavy backpack. "So... what are we gonna do?"

"I don't know yet," Jude said, squeezing his shoulder. "Tell you what, I'll take you out and show you some cool places around town today."

They quickly jogged back to their room, tossed their school gear aside, and headed out into the afternoon air.

Thirty minutes later, the two boys found themselves wandering the path near the edge of the campus tree line.

"Ouuuu, Greer! I didn't know you were an actual artist!" Jude’s loud, teasing voice suddenly pierced the quiet breeze.

Bobby and Greer both looked up from their sketchpads to see the boys approaching.

Greer scoffed playfully, waving her brush at him. "I mean, I do arts, Jude. Culinary Arts," she emphasized with a proud grin.

"You wanna join us?" Bobby asked, offering a spare paintbrush up toward Arlo.

Before Arlo could answer, Jude laughed, looking over Greer's shoulder at her rough landscaping sketch. "Nah, I'll just watch the birds," he joked.

A few quiet moments passed as the group settled into a comfortable rhythm under the shade of the willow tree. Arlo quietly accepted a pad and went to work painting, his eyes focused and intense.

"Is this scary, y'all?" Bobby suddenly asked, turning her board around to show the group.

She had painted a dark, weathered box with thick curls of pitch-black mist violently erupting from its hollow center. Inside the smoke, the faint silhouette of a human face was visible, its features stretched out as if screaming in pure agony.

"Ouuhhh," Jude and Greer exclaimed together, leaning closer.

"What exactly goes on in that head of yours?" Jude asked with a teasing, bewildered chuckle.

"This is honestly so cool, Bobby," Greer added, genuinely impressed by the dark imagery.

"I knowww," Bobby replied with a wide smile, completely unaware of the terrifying reality behind her own creative impulse.

Arlo didn't say anything, but he just stared at the drawing, completely fascinated by the details. He quietly turned back to his own canvas, his brush strokes becoming deliberate. He was painting the sculpture of a weeping man—a wooden figure whose limbs seemed to transform into growing leaves and gnarled branches, its sightless eyes staring directly at something burning fiercely right in front of it.

"Ohhh, I'm so tired. Let's go back, Arlo," Jude groaned after a while, stretching his arms toward the sky.

Arlo looked up from his canvas, slightly hesitant. He wasn't entirely finished with his piece yet and wanted to capture the shading.

"Ouuu, let's follow themmm!" Bobby and Greer chimed in unison. They both giggled, loving the moments when their thoughts synced up perfectly.

"I want to see your new room, Jude," Greer said, packing up her palette.

Arlo watched them dismantle their easels, a wave of nervous confusion washing over him. They're actually coming to a boys' dormitory? he wondered to himself, under the strict impression that girls were absolutely forbidden from entering the residential housing blocks.

The four of them packed up their supplies and headed down the long path toward Jude and Arlo’s quarters. When they stepped inside, the room hit them with a familiar, lived-in scent of laundry detergent, fresh bedsheets, and old sneakers.

Hours away from the safety of the campus, the atmosphere was suffocatingly bleak.

The funeral service for Professor Charles was held inside a quiet, ancient gray stone chapel. The building was surrounded by rows of dead, dried weeping willows that looked as if they had been violently struck by lightning or scorched by fire. Principal Chandler’s secretary had been entirely right—the family was completely devastated.

Anna sat silently in the front wooden pew, her eyes hollow, completely drained of tears, and her small hands trembling against her lap. Beside her, Cleo sat rigidly straight, her face a frozen mask of quiet, internal grief. She stared down at her own fingers, still feeling the phantom weight of the encouraging uncle who used to praise her artwork before anyone else did.

At the back of the chapel stood Greer’s father. He was a wealthy, immensely influential man whose mere presence demanded immediate respect from the room, dressed in a sharp, flawlessly tailored black suit. He hadn't known Charles personally, but high-society politics and his heavy school board connections required his mandatory attendance.

As the mournful service concluded, Greer’s father walked heavily toward the front of the chapel to offer his personal condolences to the immediate family. He approached Anna’s mother, bowing his head with practiced respect.

"I am deeply sorry for your loss," he said, his voice deep, smooth, and perfectly controlled. "Charles was a brilliant man. The university will simply not be the same without his mind."

Anna’s mother wiped a fresh, heavy tear from her cheek, nodding weakly. "Thank you. It... it was just so sudden. The doctors say it was his heart, but... his body..." She choked up, completely unable to finish the sentence, still deeply haunted by the horrific, decayed state in which the professor had been discovered.

Greer’s father placed a comforting, yet firm hand on her shaking shoulder. "Do not distress yourself with the grim details now. Focus entirely on honoring his memory. If your family needs anything at all—financially or otherwise—during this difficult time, you know exactly how to reach my office."

From a few steps away, Cleo quietly watched the entire exchange. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she locked her gaze onto Greer’s father. There was something about the way the wealthy man carried himself—a subtle, calculated aura of knowing far more about the situation than he let on—that made the skin on her neck prickle with suspicion.

The funeral was supposed to bring some form of closure, but standing in the chilly, shadow-filled chapel, Cleo could feel it deep in her bones: the mystery of her uncle's death was only just beginning.

Back at the campus, the chill of the evening began to seep through the window frames, but the four friends huddled in the dormitory were far too comfortable to care.

Jude and Arlo’s room wasn’t like the rest of the campus housing. Their quarters were tucked away in a separate, cottage-like building that was completely detached from the main, multi-story boys' residential blocks. Because of its absolute isolation, it felt like their own private sanctuary, making it the perfect place to hide out without getting caught by the campus staff. Bobby and Greer had briefly questioned why a freshman and a sophomore were assigned to such a strange, separate building when they first walked in, but no one really had any answers.

They were all chilling on the floor and lower bunk, talking and laughing casually.

Arlo stood up and walked over to a dark corner of the room to grab some sodas to share with everyone. As he stepped down heavily, a sharp, echoing c***k snapped through the floorboards beneath his feet.

Jude immediately burst out laughing, playfully reading Arlo for being in trouble. "Oh man, look at you! Ruining school property on your first week! Chandler's gonna lock you up!"

Bobby moved closer, her sharp eyes noticing the split in the wood. "Wait, look at that," she muttered.

Both she and Arlo knelt down toward the fracture, pulling back a loose splinter of the floorboard. Beneath the wood, a dark, deliberate hole was carved into the foundation.

Greer moved closer, her curiosity piqued, while Jude just leaned back against the wall, not really caring about a broken floorboard.

Greer knelt down, tilting her head to peep directly through the dark hole.

Her breath instantly caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in absolute shock. Hidden directly beneath the floor of the boys' isolated cottage was an entire hidden room.

Arlo and Bobby stared up at her face, waiting in tense silence as she continued to peer down into the darkness.