Three

I fumbled nervously with my keys, and finally finding the right one, shoved it into the doorknob and rushed inside the house, slamming the door like something was after me. I leaned against the door for a few minutes, staring at the shining, immaculate five-star-hotel kitchen my mother had begged my father for and rarely used.

I inhaled deeply a few more times before shoving away from the wall and making my trek up stairs to my room where my bed awaited me. My mind was in a daze and the faint scent of rain and lilies lingered around me from my mother‘s acutely placed glade air fresheners, giving me a headache. 

What was it that was making me feel like this? What was it that had me in a daze? School. Colden Academy was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It wasn’t the sheer mass of the school, the empty parking lot, or the unbelievable curriculum. No, it was the students. I’ve never been afraid of much of anything, and I never thought that it would be beauty that would strike a cold pang of fear into my heart.

My mom had driven me to the parking lot, and I had asked her once more what time school started, and after she answered seven thirty, I looked from her to the deserted parking lot with a frown. Without any further questioning and a encouraging, but unconcerned look from my mother, I got out of the car and headed to the darkly beautiful buildings a little ways in front of me, looking back to see her waving cheerfully and I gave her a small wave back.

When I said empty, I meant empty not one car stood in the parking lot, and it was seven ten. I couldn’t see the front of the school, so I didn’t know if there were any cars, but after a few minutes of silent walking, observing the very beat up asphalt as I walked, I looked up and spotted a figure standing alone by the wall, one hand in the pocket of his black jeans and the other holding a book. 

As I drew closer, I began to notice finer details about him. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing perfect, flawless skin. Lord he was pale, but it wasn’t a translucent, sickly pale, instead he emitted a sort of… glow almost. His hair was long-ish, reaching the base of his neck in the back from what I could see, and it was layered, his bangs sweeping across his forehead. It was such a deep black that it shone only slightly.

A black belt circled through the loops of his pants, the silver buckle glinting. He stood completely still and even despite all the black he wore, it wasn’t a grungy, emo look at all. The way he held himself and air I could feel emanating from him even from the distance I was at was…mysterious, refined, distinguished, serious and…dangerous. 

When I was about ten feet away from him he lifted his head from the book slowly and I found I couldn’t walk…or breathe, like the black pools of his eyes had paralyzed me.

I had seen good-looking guys before, but this, this was something entirely different. He was on a completely different level. It was almost indescribable, he was almost indescribable. 

I could see no blemish, no flaw on that perfect alabaster skin, his eyes were black, not dark brown, black. Most definitely. His features were smooth but masculine, and he was tall, probably about six foot, six one and had a strong build.

His first reaction to me was one of calm observation, and then his eyes narrowed as I drew closer.

“Uh, is there no school today?” I asked in a quiet voice, when I got close enough to him for him to hear me, but I had the weirdest feeling that he’d be able to hear no matter if I was right here, or all the way across the parking lot. His jaw tensed and his arm moved as though he had twitch.

At first he didn’t answer, all he did was stare at me, eyes narrowed. And then finally : “Of course there’s school. Its Monday. What are you stupid?” 

“Well. There’s no cars here, I assumed…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t assume such idiotic ideas.” He replied in a smooth soprano before I could finish my sentence and I looked away from him. 

Frankly, I didn’t care how good-looking he was, he was pissing me off. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t be so rude to someone you don’t know s**t about.” I told him, not meaning to curse, but it was a habit of mine. I had tried stopping, but nothing ever worked, the words always found their way out, especially when I was irritated. Especially when someone was irritating me.

He pushed away from the wall, and dropped the hand that held the book to his side before taking a couple of steps towards me and leaning in, a glare on his handsome face, making me want to shrink back, but I held my firm stance against him.

“I don’t have to know you. You’re all the same.” He retorted, his face just above a whisper. And then he turned and strode away, and I watched his broad shoulders as he disappeared around the back of the school. I stood there for couple of minutes staring at the empty air where he had walked.

We’re all the same? What in the world did that mean? Did he mean outsiders? The statement he had just given me kind of inclined that he knew certain facts about me and there was no way he should’ve been able to know. The whole situation freaked me out and a gust of cold wind swept through my body before I repelled myself in the opposite direction he had gone, toward the main doors of the school.

What I found waiting for me in the sprawling courtyard just before the monstrous wood and metal doors absolutely stopped me in my tracks. If there was ever a moment I felt as if I were trapped in some extraordinary occurrence that could only be a dream, it was now.

The only thing keeping me from rubbing my eyes were the eyes of the people that stared back at me, eyes darker then the blackest night and the intensity of their gazes--all on me at once--felt as if it were pressing against me, trying to push me back. It took me a minute to remember I needed to breathe and another minute of feeling my eyes drying out before I began to blink again.

How so many people could have such unbelievable beauty was baffling to me. The entire courtyard, with all the kids seated on its crevices, benches and stone structures that were probably old statues or water troughs, every one was far, far beyond good-looking and the first words that went through my head were: I do not belong here.  

I was still nearly breathless when he walked past me. The boy from the parking lot. In all his black-clad glory. Looking at him was like seeing a character from a black and white movie. His pearly skin, black eyes, black hair and black clothing made him seem like a unreal part of the picture before me. It was like a color photo with his person being the only part in black and white.

“I see you’ve all noticed our new guest.” He addressed the mass of perfect people in a very un-enthusiastic tone as he strode further into the courtyard, stopping to lean against the bench where a dazzling, voluptuous red-head sat, bare legs crossed. Her hair the intense colors of an angry fire, her lips the color of fresh pink rose buds and her attire nothing short of high class Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior and Chanel. She wore a blank, but sneering look on her exquisite face, her full lips turned down, almond-shaped eyes narrowed and perfectly sculpted eyebrows pulling together in an expression just short of a glaring snarl. They all scared me, but I had to say, she really put the fear in me.

“Why in heaven’s name did you bring her here?” She asked the dark-haired boy  that stood beside her with a jerk of her head in his direction. “This is absolutely ludicrous. Sh-they don’t belong here.” 

He openly laughed and replied: “You think I’m the one who brought her here? Of course not. I’m not quick to forget the last time their lot came sniffing around here.”

“The filou will tear them apart by the end of the night.” The red-head said, and then stood, walking with elegant sweeping strides over to me, and on reflex, I took a step back, which she immediately noticed.

“I’m not going to hurt you girl. I only want to know things about you.” She told me, and that’s when I heard the heavy French accent in her flowing speech, things coming out sounding like ‘zings’, but her voice was strong and her presence equally so. It surprised that I hadn’t heard the accent before.

I stared at the very-green grass for a second mustering up the courage to look her in the face, and then I lifted my head, but before I could lower it from such an intense, overwhelming gaze, I forced words out of my mouth.

“Like what?” I asked, blinking, the expression on my face a s****y try at a glare.

She inhaled and then pursed her lips. “Where do you live?”

“Up past Lowfern road.” I answered in a swift, but quiet voice, feeling like I was shrinking under her unrelenting, unblinking stare.

Her jaw tensed and she cursed in French before throwing a glance back at her rude friend.

“Your family ‘ad no problems in zee last night?” 

“No. Unless you count forgetting the wine stoppers a problem.” I told her, my voice serious, but I was still trying to ease the tension of the atmosphere. It hadn’t worked, the tension was still razor-thin.

My eyes scanned the rest of the kids that looked like they were hardly kids in the courtyard. It was filled with blondes, brunettes, darker red-heads, kids with black hair (but none quite as black as the boy‘s from before.) and even in some cases hair so light blonde it looked white. Their hair may have been all different colors and lengths, but their skin and eyes were all the same extreme shades of ivory and ebony and they were all on me and this flame-haired French woman.

“No odd noises out in zee woods? Or around your ‘ouse?”

“No. Nothing.”

Her brow furrowed even more and she made a full turn to face her ink-haired companion. “Well Damen, what do you ‘zink we should do? We cannot let the filou ’ave them. Three nouveau sang will cause ‘zeir numbers to exceed our own, and you know what zat means.”

I was so confused, I was really beginning to question my sanity and the possibility of this being one terribly complicated, yet remarkable dream.

Damen’s expression didn’t change, and he looked at me with a distasteful expression, as though I were some piece of meat gone rancid.

“Three will make no difference Vera. You know how they fight. They’re reliance on strength and numbers always falls to our methods. Who cares about three humans gone missing?” 

Vera face took on an angry expression, and she walked crossly up to him.

She addressed him in rapid French, her tone irritated. I wanted desperately to know what she was saying to him. 

“Oh yeah? And just what do you plan on doing? What good are three of them to us? You know the younger ones are going to be driven insane by them every night, and who knows what they’ll do?”

“Zey will do as told. By you.” She said, her voice dangerously low as she looked past his shoulders and the others around him and upon her eyes falling on them, they lowered their own, or looked away, and immediately I knew. I knew I was now involved in something much more…more everything then I would’ve ever anticipated it to be.

In the silence after the implied threat by Vera, the loud, creaking of the massive main door being opened broke through, and out strode an middle-aged man in a black suit, his deep brown hair combed back, and his skin and eyes matching all the others, but there was something else about him, something more…lively. 

“It’s passed seven thirty. Damen, you…” And then his speech broke short when he spotted me. My eyes found everything in the courtyard that wasn’t him the minute his onyx eyes found my hazel . He looked very intimidating, and the last thing I wanted was his eyes looking into my own, but when they moved to see his face, what was looking back at me wasn’t fierceness, or disgust, but astonishment, wonder and kindness.

“Who is this?” He asked in a voice just above a whisper, pointing and looking around at his ‘students‘.

Vera turned to me and said: “Oh, I forget to ask your name. Zat should’ve been first on my list…”

“Danielle Grant.” I replied to him and Vera in a small voice, casting my eyes down again for a split second.

The man’s mouth broke into an incredibly dazzling smile when he heard me, and his pointing finger turned into his outstretched hand.

“Well, I don’t know how my students feel, but I welcome you to Colden and to the Academy with great happiness.”

***

The rest of school was a terrible blur. The classes were full of information I barely even paid attention to, my head spinning with the mornings insanity and just what in the hell Vera and Damen were arguing about. It gave me a massive headache and I had begun to feel a bout of nausea grow in my stomach. What were filou and nouveau sang? Undoubtedly French, but the rest of the courtyard’s population seemed to understand. Maybe this was some French-Canadian colonization or something. I had no bloody idea, and I meant that in a general way.

Upon taking the mysterious man’s outstretched hand, which was the oddest feeling I had ever come across, we took a series of black-wooden stairs and turned down various intricately decorated, door-lined halls before we reached his vast office. His skin had been neither warm nor cold, it emitted a sort of…icy heat. Something in between the two…it wasn’t warm or cold…but like something outside of temperature itself, a complete nature impossibility. Everything had a temperature. Well. I figured I’d better get used to the cruel and unusual, because this place clearly had plenty of both, I just wondered if my parents had noticed it yet.

When I seated myself on the velvet-cushioned chair he gestured to, he immediately began asking me question after question about my family, why we came and what it was like in New York. I answered as vaguely as possible when the subject arrived at why we had moved because I really didn’t want to discuss Hallee’s death with a man I certainly didn’t trust.

I could tell he knew I wasn’t telling him everything, but he accepted it and moved on to my class list.

“From your transcripts it seems you’re an excellent student in pretty much every subject.” He told me, looking intently at the papers from the file folder on his large, shining mahogany desk.

“My parents expect it of me.” I replied in a tired voice, not really feeling like being here. This place made me especially tired, and I didn’t know why. My eyes scanned the shelves that lined all walls of the room and the red, blue and black bound books that lined them. I found that none of the books had titles on the spines and that rather piqued my interest. He had had all of them rebound.

He put the papers down and wrung his hands before lacing them in front of him on the desk. “Would your grades be this way had they not expected it of you?” 

Such a weird question by such a weird man. Beautiful, but weird. He was so much different from all the others that had regarded me with suspicious and unwanted expressions outside. He had wanted to know me, and for right now, help me, but I just wasn’t in the mood to register the true kindness in his voice and the way he talked to me. I mean Vera had been kind, just…in a different, dominating sense.

“Probably not.” I replied simply, there was no use in lying to him.

“And why is that Miss Grant?” He questioned, looking expectantly at me with his coal black eyes, which I found much softer then those of anyone else back in the courtyard.

I sighed and sat forward. “I’m from New York Mr. Randsom. My parents are filthy rich and I’ve had be-successful-or-else shoved down my throat since pre-K. School and study filled my childhood, I never had the chance for friends and time to be a kid. So flunking sounds like Heaven because it would be something different. At least I could worry about something else. It’s not like my parents haven’t set any money back for me. Its not like I even need school. I don’t mean to come off as snotty, but it is the way it is.”

Mr. Randsom, who’s name I found out by the shining gold plaque on his desk, sat back in his high-backed chair and looked out the trees and mist-topped mountains, that gave the distance an eerie, haunted look and pursed his lips.

“It must be difficult not having a normal life Miss Grant.” He told me finally, “I understand completely your want for something other then the high-class life you’re accustomed to. However, I feel that school and academics come rather easy for you, so you should take full advantage of it. It would seem that knowledge is a burden for you…in a cruder sense, you’re ignorant. You have yet to see the effect of having school will have for you in the long-run. You say you have money, but you never know where life may take you and your money. You may end up spending it all on useless, material possessions, you might end up going bankrupt, or failing to pay credit card bills. You might even get sued by someone for something that may or may not have been your fault. My point, Danielle, is that you should always welcome knowledge. It has much more value then money.”

I hadn’t asked for a lecture, but some of what he said had made a little sense. There wasn’t anything wrong with going to school. There may have been nothing wrong with it, but the thought of going to a snazzy, Ivy League college nauseated me.

Just as I was about to give him my thanks for his much-appreciated insight, the handsomely-carved wood door of his office burst open, and Damen stood in its wake, a very troubled expression on his face.

“We have a very bad problem.”

Author's Note

I feel that this is a bit rushed, so I'm in the process of re-working it. Meaning: completely rewriting it. So if I repost it, things might've changed drastically.

Reviews

[Galldora King]

Cool, i like this very much. Although its been a while since you have posted this and my memory is kinda shy. lol
Anyways i didnt understand the begganing, maybe you could clear it up? You say that your rewriting this? Maybe you should keep this one and rewrite it as another chapter...its your writing and so far its really good.

[Splatman73]

I definitely like where this is going. This has been in my reading list for a while and I'm disappointed in myself that I haven't given it a look sooner. Good luck with rewriting.

[Silent Wolf]

This is really good, and I find it very fascinating! I would love to read more of it! Would you mind telling me when (And if) you have more of it?