First Day! A Murder!
1753 Words
Seraphina's POV
Is this real? It's not supposed to be. I never thought I'd have s*x with someone other than Derrick, even if it's over between us.
The question on my mind is... Who is this person?
My lips parted on a soft gasp before I could stop myself. Heat pressed against my skin, wrapping me in a haze so thick I swore I could drown in it. My body leaned closer, craving a stranger I'd never seen before.
His hot, rough and possessive hands curved around my waist, fingers slipping under the hem of my thin cotton shirt. The fabric bunched, exposing my lower back to the cold air, and a shiver shot up my spine.
Then came the sound—a low groan, deep and edged with something dark.
Dangerous. Maybe?
It vibrated against my ear, and my pulse tripped over itself. I should've pulled away. I should've done anything other than melt into him, but my body didn't give a damn about logic.
His mouth brushed my neck. Lips. Teeth. The steady press of someone who knew exactly how to touch, how to unravel, how to claim.
"You taste better than I thought, Little Owl."
'Little owl? What the hell is that nickname?'
My body betrayed me. I arched into him, hands flattening against the hard planes of his chest. I wanted to feel him. Feel the hardness that was pressing against my wet spot. His heartbeat thudded beneath my fingertips, perfectly in rhythm with the wild hammering of my own.
I didn't know him. Not his name. Not his face. But I wanted him. Still weird.
His lips moved lower, grazing my collarbone before teasing my breasts through the thin shirt. My breath stuttered. My head tilted back on instinct, giving him more. His hand slid over my jaw, tilting my face toward his. For the briefest second, I caught a flash of something sharp—icy, piercing eyes that felt like they could see through me completely.
His lips hovered above mine. So close. Almost...
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I jolted upright, breath ragged, sweat clinging to my skin. My sheets were tangled around me like a trap, my pyjamas twisted high on my thighs. The heat of that phantom touch still burned into my body. My heart thundered so hard it made my chest ache.
"What the hell was that dream all about?" I muttered, pressing a hand over my face. I remembered everything that had happened vividly, and it was as if I could still feel the stranger's hand over my body.
The room slowly sharpened into reality as I looked around. My luggage sat neatly stacked near the bed.
Right. Today.
The day my father had been drilling into me for months. My first day at the academy.
Or, as I liked to call it—my first day in prison.
Another knock rattled the door, sharper this time.
"Coming," I grumbled, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My cane rested against the nightstand. I grabbed it and tapped it once against the floor, steadying myself. I didn't have to use it while at home, but according to my father, he said I should always be in character.
My bonnet kept my silver-white hair tucked neatly away, but my pyjama top, which was loose and practically see-through, clung damp against my skin. Whoever was at the door was about to get an eyeful.
I opened it anyway.
My father's secretary stood there, immaculate as ever. Black suit, polished glasses, eyes that scanned me like I was just another task to check off his list.
"Miss Seraphina." His voice was clipped, attractive in that annoying, efficient way. "The car is ready."
"Ten minutes," I said, slamming the door before he could launch into one of his long-winded lectures.
The shower was quick, the water hotter than necessary, scalding away the remnants of that dream. I scrubbed my skin until it flushed pink, until I felt almost new. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't wash away the whisper of his voice.
Little Owl.
As the voice echoed in my head, I felt my body tingle as my n*****s hardened and I tightened the space between my legs.
'It's just a dream, Sera! Focus!'
After leaving the bathroom, I grabbed the uniform that was waiting for me in the dresser. The uniform felt like a betrayal the more I glared at it. The crisp white shirt scratched against my skin, the dark blazer weighed on my shoulders, and the pleated skirt was way shorter than anything I'd ever choose. It exposed too much skin which made me feel vulnerable.
I hated it already.
I fixed the tie with stiff fingers, laced my shoes, and stared at the mirror. The reflection didn't look like me. And maybe that was the point.
By the time I slid into the sleek black car, cane resting on my knee, my stomach was a knot. Some people call it nervousness. The secretary droned on from the front seat as the driver pulled away.
"Remember your cover. You are blind. Do not falter. Do not hesitate. If anyone questions your phone, say your father approved it. Do not slip out any important information to the enemies."
"I know," I muttered, unlocking my phone with my thumb. A message blinked on the screen.
'Baby, please. I'm sorry. Just talk to me,'
My ex, Derrick. Of all the days, he picked this one. I deleted the entire thread before the secretary could catch a glimpse.
"Your ex-boyfriend will be a liability if you keep entertaining him," the secretary said dryly, adjusting his cufflinks.
"I already cut him off." My voice was sharp, edged with impatience.
Do I need to explain that? Due to the task my father handed to me, I had to cut all ties with Derrick after my father purposely framed him for cheating on me. It was easy. Drugged him, placed a naked girl close to him and all I had to do was walk in and act the part. An angry and disappointed girlfriend who wants a breakup.
I'm sorry, Derrick, but... I hope you find someone better than me.
"Then keep it that way. And above all..." The secretary was still rambling on, his tone tightening. "Do not get caught. If they suspect you're not one of them..."
"I know. They'll kill me."
His silence after that was louder than anything.
The car slowed, and I caught my first glimpse of the academy through the tinted glass.
Crestmoor Academy.
It's just as I've seen on the internet. Massive black gates, jagged iron curling like claws. Beyond them, the academy loomed... stone walls, towers, banners rippling in the wind. Beautiful. Intimidating and somewhat... Wrong.
"We've arrived, Miss," he spoke again and I alighted from the car, staring at the building. It's really ten times bigger than my old school.
Of course, it has to be huge since it's just a prison to keep monsters locked up.
Inside, every step we took echoed loudly. My cane tapped against polished floors as I moved, the secretary shadowing me until we reached the dorm. He gestured stiffly at the door.
"Do you need assistance navigating, Miss Seraphina?"
I raised my chin, defiance flaring in my chest.
"I can manage."
A small nod. "Then... good luck. I'll let your father know you've arrived,"
When he left, I let my shoulders drop. The room was simple: two beds, two desks, two wardrobes. Everything in pairs. My roommate wasn't here yet.
I unpacked immediately but I was too tired to arrange them. The room felt stuffy and small.
So I left with my cane in hand and my disguise intact. It was school hours, so students were in classes. It was the perfect time to learn some information about this academy.
The halls stretched ahead, filled with turns and shadows. I memorised the map in my mind... stairs here, classrooms there, the faint smell of old paper marking the library. I moved with purpose, forcing confidence into every step. I wasn't here to cower. I was here to survive.
"Is that enough? Should I head back now?" I asked myself, turning to head back to the dorm and...
That's when I heard it.
A sharp crack followed by a muffled groan.
I froze. Is someone in pain? Or is it something kind of a weird experiment like they do to people in fantasy stories?
My heart leapt into my throat as the cane trembled in my grip, but I forced my feet forward. I had to know. Don't get me wrong! I'm a curious person.
The sound drew me to a side door, left slightly ajar. The air from the room was cold and it had the scent of something metallic like... Blood?
I pushed it open.
The room was dim, lit only by a flickering bulb. And there he was.
Tall. Broad. Dressed in the same uniform, but wearing it like it belonged only to him. His sleeves were rolled up, veins carved against his forearms as his hand clamped around a man's jaw.
He looked older, so he must be a professor.
Blood spattered the floor, pooling beneath the professor's crumpled body. His eyes bulged with terror, his lips shaping silent pleas.
"Please... don't kill me."
The boy's lips curled into a smile.
It didn't look cruel nor did it look soft. He was just fascinated. Like the man's fear was a puzzle he wanted to solve. He was just interested in killing the man in one of his thousand ways to kill a person and tick it off his list.
My grip on the cane was so tight my knuckles hurt. Every instinct screamed at me to run. But my body wouldn't move. My eyes... eyes I wasn't supposed to use... were locked on him.
The professor gave one last gurgle before his body went limp, hitting the floor with a sickening thud. The sound echoed, bouncing off the walls, too loud in the silence that followed.
"Oh! He didn't last as long as I thought he would..."
He said, and then he turned his head.
His sharp, piercing and icy blue eyes found me instantly. It felt like it sliced right through my disguise. My heart slammed so hard I thought it would burst.
He didn't speak at first. Just watched me. Studying my reaction.
And then, almost casually, his lips curved.
"Hmmm," he murmured. "Did I get caught?"
- Writer
