Priana's POV
I was practically sprinting through the corridors of San Miguel High School. It was my very first day, and I was already late. My heart was drumming against my ribs like a trapped bird, frantic and loud.
I was running with all my might when—
Thud!
I slammed into someone, the force knocking the air out of my lungs.
For a split second, I lost my balance. I closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself to hit the cold, hard floor.
But the impact never came.
Instead, two powerful arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me firmly against a solid chest. A scent of strong, expensive cologne hit me—intense, intoxicating, and dangerously masculine.
Everything around us seemed to freeze. For a moment, I could hear the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat against my ear.
But that warmth lasted only a few seconds.
The next moment, he shoved me away with such force that I stumbled and fell.
"Ouch!"
I landed hard on the floor. My books scattered everywhere, sliding across the tiles like fallen leaves. Frustrated and wincing in pain, I looked up.
He was staring at me.
His gaze was strange—piercing, icy, and filled with an unsettling magnetism. He was undeniably handsome, but his eyes were like frozen depths, devoid of any warmth. That scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, wrapping around me like a ghost.
I scrambled to my feet, trying to regain my dignity. He didn't say a single word; he just stood there, his eyes locked onto mine.
I couldn't stay silent. "What do you think you're doing?"
I snapped, my voice trembling with anger. "If you were just going to throw me down, why did you even bother catching me?"
A twisted, dark smirk played on the corners of his lips, as if he found my outburst amusing.
"You're a strange person," I grumbled. "Don't you talk? Are you blind, or just something?"
Finally, he spoke. His voice was deep, low, and laced with a cold authority.
"Do you even know who I am? If you did, you wouldn't dare speak to me like that."
I glared at him, my stubbornness taking over. "I don't have the slightest interest in knowing who you are!"
It was then that I noticed the corridor was no longer empty. A crowd of students had gathered, watching us with bated breath. Whispers and murmurs filled the air as they stared at us in disbelief. The atmosphere grew heavy, suffocating.
Suddenly, without warning, he reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward him. I was so caught off guard that I crashed into his chest again. My blood ran cold with fear. He gripped my wrist so tightly it started to ache.
"Listen, you're hurting me! Let go!" I shouted, struggling against his hold.
He didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against my ear as he whispered—
"I'll let you go this time. But remember... next time, I won't be so merciful."
With that, he shoved me aside one last time and walked away without looking back. Through the crowd, I could hear the other students whispering, "She should've been punished... the nerve of that girl!"
I stood there, paralyzed and confused. What kind of school was this? And who was this boy who had everyone trembling in fear?
I finally reached the door of Grade 11, Section B. My lungs were burning, and my breath hitched when I saw the teacher was already inside.
Swallowing my nervousness, I knocked and asked for permission to enter.
The teacher looked at me over his spectacles. "Are you the new transfer student?"
"Yes, sir," I managed to say, my voice small.
"Come in. Introduce yourself to the class."
I stood before the sea of unfamiliar faces, feeling exposed. "My name is Priana Reyes. I'm the new student for Grade 11, Section B."
I waited for a reaction—a smile, a whisper, anything. But there was nothing. The silence in the room was heavy, almost suffocating. The students stared at me with blank, unreadable expressions.
"Go, take a seat," the teacher directed, dismissively waving a hand toward the desks.
I scanned the room. Three girls were sitting in the front row, looking sharp and poised.
The seats next to them and behind them were completely empty, while the rest of the class had crammed themselves into the very back rows. It was strange, like there was an invisible barrier around those three girls.
I walked toward them, intending to take one of the empty spots. At first, they glared at me, their body language screaming that I wasn't welcome. But just as I was about to turn away, another girl burst into the room. She didn't even bother asking the teacher for permission. She rushed over and whispered something urgent into the ear of one of the girls in the front.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. One of the girls stood up, a confident smirk on her face.
"I'm Elisa, the leader of this class," she announced, her voice dripping with unearned authority. "And I've decided that Priana will sit with us from today. Consider her a member of our team."
I stood there, bewildered. Why the sudden change? And why didn't the teacher say a word about their disruptive behavior?
It felt like these girls ran the classroom, not the staff. Without a choice, I sat down beside them, trying to focus on the lesson, though my mind was spinning with questions.
Once the bell rang and the teacher left, I hurried out to find the restroom.
But San Miguel High was a labyrinth of endless, confusing hallways. I asked a few passing girls for directions, but they looked at me with cold indifference and hurried away.
I kept walking, turning corners blindly, until the vibrant noise of the school began to fade.
The walls here were different—cracked, decaying, and stained with age. The bright lights were replaced by a dim, flickering gloom.
I had wandered into a wing of the school that felt completely abandoned. It didn't feel like a place for students anymore; it felt like a lair for something dangerous.
The air grew heavy.
Cold.
It smelled like dust… and something metallic.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I stopped in front of a heavy, scarred door at the end of the hall. Something inside me screamed to run back, but my feet were frozen.
I was standing right in front of a room that felt like the heart of the darkness.