'It's Tuesday, so we have alchemy class next…? Ugh not looking forward to that….' Damon thought to himself before standing and leaving the room.
As he entered the corridor, his gaze snapped to the right. A lone window leading outside stood at the end, sun pouring in.
'The sky's really brightened huh. Maybe I should just skip…' Surprisingly this was the first time the thought had ever crossed his mind as he regularly attended all his lessons once he woke up on time.
If not for his habitual tardiness he could be the model student!
"Rain's great, but the sun isn't so bad either" Damon muttered humorously.
Considering the lesson was being held in the only classroom on the first floor, he had to pass it to get to the stairs. Damon knew he had to move quickly as to not be seen by the teacher.
Striding past a few boys walking slowly, he took a sharp right turn by the library and then a left as a head of light green hair came in view. Another boy he was all too familiar with was crouched beside a redwood screen door.
His blue eyes were framed by rectangular lenses and intently gazed at a familiar piece of fiction held in his lap.
"Morning, brother. You overslept again, didn't you?" Abel smiled upon noticing him.
Damon paused for a moment before indignantly replying, "You could've woken me. That book was in my room!"
He would have preferred waking to see those pink frames and soft cheeks instead of Vincent's sharp jaw. As they both shared a love for reading, he often enjoyed spending time in the library with Abel.
"I know." Abel replied, turning the page with deliberate grace.
"But then how would you learn?"
"Just put the book back when you're done…" Damon let out a long sigh and sank into contemplation.
In the past, whenever he fell asleep in the library, he had indeed used his brother as a wake-up call. However, in his defence, Abel had not refused him once on these occasions nor had he ever delegated the task to anyone else.
As Damon cleared his thoughts another question struck him, and he asked, "Why are you outside anyway? Everyone's getting prepared for class…"
"I know." Abel replied reaching into his brown trouser pocket. He retrieved a pocket watch and displayed it with a smile. "I'm waiting for Henry to return this. He lent it to me, so I'd know when the combat lesson ended."
'Instead of convincing you to join…!?' Damon had to resist the urge to facepalm. He found this quite ironic after the conversation he and Vincent had earlier.
At that moment they both heard the sound of wheels rolling
Ms. Windu, who served as the teacher's assistant approached, pushing a metal trolley and whistling as if to lure birds.
Beaker sets filled with unknown liquids and empty flask rattled inside as she drew near wearing a laboratory coat over her standard monochrome maid attire.
'That's my cue…'
Damon hurriedly said goodbye to Abel and moved across the corridor as he sought to avoid the woman's gaze. She would surely report him if caught him playing hooky.
He quickly opened another screen door and entered the room arranged for entertaining guests.
As he peeked through the glass, Ms. Windu stopped beside Abel and their lips fluttered in a brief exchange.
The woman entered the classroom with the trolley shortly after, and he breathed a sigh of relief as Abel waved towards him before entering as well.
'There shouldn't be anyone else walking the corridors at this hour unless they're going to the kitchen and the others won't rat me out. I should be in the clear. '
Damon mused as he saw the door close and quietly slipped back into the corridor.
The sections of the corridor nearest to the kitchen were connected to the servants living quarters and dinning hall through four different doors hence they hardly interacted with servants of the house unless having a meal.
In a noble household this would have meant the servants were not permitted to interact with them outside of performing duties.
Yet on the contrary, they were encouraged to act casually around the children as the director believed that everyone living inside the building should be viewed as family regardless of their reasons for being there.
'It's hard to view them all as family when they agree to most of our requests. I can barely remember all my siblings names.'
'I wonder if that's what family is normally like…'
Damon shook his head wearily and continued down the corridor towards the staircase.
As he moved closer the crystalline lights on the ceiling flickered behind him. The hair's on his nape stood on end, and he felt slight gust tickle his ear.
'Huh?' Damon's bows creased as he looked behind him. He found only the steady lights and a quiet space.
"I was sure something felt off a second ago…" he muttered.
He turned around, and the lights began to quiver once more.
Several pairs of eyes appeared on walls under the fleeting dark, leering at his back with motionless pupils. They watched with amusement as he reached the foot of the steps.
At that moment, Damon stopped walking, and his pupils dilated instantly. He stared at the red oak starcase, his heart hurrying with alarm.
'Something's definitely wrong here!!' He shouted inwardly.
He did not know where this feeling was coming from. But he suddenly felt nothing good would arise from ascending to the second floor.
Damon drew a deep breath and wiped the sweat trailing down the side of his face. He quickly decided to turn around and head to class.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
As he began retracing his steps, another pair of feet sounded behind him.
They were fairly light, presumably a woman's yet almost imaginary as they echoed half a second later than his own.
'Something's following me!'
Increasing his pace, Damon did his best to ignore it. However, the sound immediately ramped up, matching his new stride.
'Why aren't they saying anything!? Are they going to follow all the way to—'
Before he could finish that thought, Damon's body halted again. Five cold fingers slowly traced the side of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
'How could anyone have a hand this cold without being corpse!?'
As another hand touched the top of his head, his mind reeled, scrambling quickly through a catalogue of fantasy novels to form an explanation for what was happening.
'A ghost? Or Vengeful spirit? But those things aren't real!'
Even though he had not seen anyone a few seconds ago, Damon could not rule out the possibility that someone was playing a dastardly prank using a forte and stole a glance from the corner of his eye.
'It…this can't be!!'
Damon's eyes widened when he realized he stood alone. He immediately pivoted free from his unseen harasser and dashed away, racing like the wind.
Yet to his horror the sound of the steps only resumed!
Tap! … Tap!
They pursed closely behind him
And before long, he spotted a saving grace.
Damon's eyes brightened up as he saw the polished red door he had avoided mere moments ago.
'I-if I can just get inside then I…' With only a few feet between him and the classroom, he suddenly shifted gears.
He had forgotten the teacher Mrs Wallace always checked the attendance then bolted both doors before starting her lesson.
'I'll have to head to the training room! It should be open!'
It always was!
However, despite the short distance he was never to reach those doors.
The corridor stretched ahead, familiar yet suddenly foreign under the flickering light. Then he felt it once more.
A cold presence fell upon him and the smell of wet dirt and iron entered his nostrils. They merged and intensified so thick it nearly made him gag.
As he turned a right corner, he could nearly see a freshly made cadaver lying by an open grave.
Calling to him!
Damon's feet skidded to a halt just before the next turn. His instinct screamed at him to not take that path. He whipped his head around with a sullen expression and his eyes landed the nearest door on his left.
He moved towards and grabbed the handle without a second thought, completely missing small brass sign nailed above.
"Do not enter without supervision" it instructed.
Damon yanked the door open, slipping inside, and slammed it shut behind him. He braced his back against the wood, quieting his breaths and pressed his ear to the surface.
The footsteps outside seemed to vanish as he waited.
"Did I lose it…?" He wondered. Hearing no other sounds besides his thumping heart, Damon finally took a glance around the room he had entered.
All four walls and the floor were covered in white tiles. Green circuit lines ran through groves in the floors surface, starting from a control panel three feet from the door and snaking across to a strange platform in the centre of the room.
The platform resembled a Pentagon, exactly ten feet across and was made of some dark metal he didn't recognize. Faint symbols were etched along its rim, glowing with the same green light as the circuits and above it a speaker box extruded from the ceiling.
"What is this place? I've never—"
Bang!
Before Damon could dwell on the question the door shook behind him and his expression turned ugly.
'I-It found me!'
Scrambling away from the door, he stumbled backward till his elbow hit the control panel. His gaze spiralled around the room as grit his teeth, looking for way out or something to defend himself.
Then suddenly
Click!
The ceiling lights flickered once, then turned scarlet. An alarm began to blare, low and rhythmic, like a heartbeat made of steel.
Following this a voice rang out from the speaker, "Initializing dimensional shift. Please remain calm."
Damon's blood ran cold as heard the flat, mechanical tone. 'Dimensional… shift? What does that—'
At once the strength drained from his legs and his arms felt like lead. His vision blurred at the edges, the red light bleeding into darkness as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
'No! I can't let thi–'
He had to call out. For Vincent. For his Mother. For anyone.
However, his throat produced no sound.
'I'm dying…? No, this can't be how it… How I…'
His knees buckled the more he fought to remain standing. The floor seemed to rush up to his body as if to welcome him to his final slumber.
'Someone… please…'
The last thing he saw was the green circuit lines pulsing faster and faster.