Slandoff: Avoid The Fire

Back when I posted this elsewhere, I had a large amount of readers who enjoyed this story. I hope to have the same excitement here.

01

 

I cannot bring myself to understand why I've chosen this path. I once believed my life couldn't get any better. Each day, I would wake up to the sun shinning on my face and the sounds of birds chirping in my ears. I would rise, quickly and willingly out of bed, ready to dive into whatever waters the day brought me. So, why choose to leave a life of happiness behind? Well, I didn't have a choice.

 

A few months in the distant past, my mother died in a tragic accident. She was on her way home from her work, as a human resource assistant, when she was struck by a drunk driver. I had always been against the use of alcohol, in every sense, and now I only had more of a reason to hate it. I lost my mother, and no one deserves that kind of pain.

 

My father was a different story. He was always away on business, so I was left home, alone mostly. My only company was our housekeeper, Greta. She didn't speak much English, and of course she wasn't the least bit polite. My dad sure knew how to pick them.

 

It was when my father took a job in Italy that I knew my life was going to change. His time was booked already; never a moments rest to spend caring for me. So, what was he going to do with me? I was raised, never to object to a decision made by my parents. I found that difficult when the brochures began to pile up on our coffee table. I knew it was a pointless arguement, but boarding school?

 

He had made his decision. That was obvious and he let me know the second I tried to argue. I let it drop, seeing no win in my favor. I packed my bags and said goodbye to my life in Colorado. I was heading to North Dakota. A place I had never been, nor knew anything about. I was not happy.

 

When my plane boarded, I tried to find my escapes. No matter which direction I looked, I couldn't see a clean break. Running away would solve nothing. My father stood firm beside me until he had to say goodbye. He has never been a man of words, much less with me. I don't take offense to it; he doesn't know me well enough to love me.

 

I said goodbye and walked down the terminal. It would be only a few short hours before I arrived at my new home. I took deep breaths, trying to accept the fact I wouldn't return home for quite a while. I sat down in the uncomfortable, coach seat and awaited the air.

 

The ride was silent.

 

It was shorter than I had hoped. Than I had expected. I found a man standing near the windows when I walked off my plane. He had a sign with my name on it. A driver, hired by my father. He didn't speak his name, for he didn't care to get acquainted with a 17 year old girl. He took my luggage in silence, and lead me to his car.

 

I spent the time looking through my new home's brochures. Slandoff. What a name. Nothing in the brochure seemed inviting, and as we walked out into the bitter cold, the fog gave the town a haunted appeal. I slid into the backseat of the car and watched the trees pass as he drove quickly down winding roads.

 

I wasn't used to this lifestyle and, already, I could tell this would be a hard transition. When the driver stopped the car, fiercely, I nearly fell to the floor of the back seat. "Welcome to Slandoff." He grummbled, watching me in his rearview mirror. I stared ahead into the gloomy mist that lay before us. I tried to choke back the false tone in my voice as I muttered, "Charming."

 

The driver nodded, while coughing a laugh. He drove forward through a large, rusted archway. I caught a glimse of the schools name written in metal across the top. Slandoff Academy.

 

We drove down the path which led into a small valley. The fog thickened, but only a little. I could barely make out the buildings as we lurched down the road. I could only see the labels of each building as we passed them.

 

"Which dorm are you assigned to, kid?" The drivers voice startled me. I looked down at my packet of information and found the assignment. "E." I said, looking back up. He nodded and turned down a smaller path, in front of a small building. I saw a large E on the front doors.

 

And just like that, I was alone. I was standing amongst the fog, with no one in sight. Once again, my father sure knows how to pick them. I would be lying if I were to say this didn't frighten me. Which brings us to the present. The cold air is whipping against my face as I stare out into the darkness, trying to make out any form of life.

 

A loud, squeaking noise errupts from behind me, followed by a voice. "Erica Ashe?" I recognize the name as my own. I guess it's good to know I'm still in touch with my mind. I turn to see a boy, a few years my senior. His hair, blacker than coal, curly and long, it stands out the most. His eyes are almost the same shade of black, but his smile is welcoming, but fake. I nod, and his smile begins to fade.

 

"My name is Rye Patterson. I'm your residence assistant. I saw you standing out here and I began to wonder why you hadn't come inside." He says, reaching for one of my bags. I follow him with my eyes, not knowing what to say. Truthfully, I didn't know why I hadn't walked inside. I guess I wasn't ready to accept this new life.

 

"You can speak, can't you?" He asks, his tone growing sarcastic. I nod, picking up the last of my bags. "Right, well.. You're supposed to come to me if you ever need any help, or have any questions.." He begins his welcome-committe-prepared speech as he opens the door for me. I walk into the dimly lit hallway; something unsurprising, coming from this town. "Try not to need me." Rye says, and it catches my attention. Some residence assisant.

 

I follow him down the hallway, to the elevator. As we walk, I swear to you the hallway is getting darker. "Don't fear the hallway, you'll get used to the light." He says. Or lack of. He looks at me, this time squinting his eyes. "You look so frightened..." He says, chuckling to himself. "And you haven't even seen your room yet." 

 

I feel a shiver shoot down my spine. The elevator doors swing open and I follow him into the hall. It is just as dark as the last, if not darker. Can't this town invest in some florescents? Rye stops in front of a room. 513. The door captures me, and I can't look away. It is covered with scribblings and small, undecipherable drawings. I follow each line until I find words, not drawn nor written, but carved into the door above the handle. Avoid The Fire.   

 

 

My body grows numb and my muscles tense. Why was this place giving me such frightening feelings? "Don't look so scared, it's just a door." Rye says, his tone sarcastic once more. Just a door, with a warning etched into it's wood. I pull my eyes from the door to stare at him, the best glare I can manage at the moment.

 

He unlocks the door, letting it swing open. A cloud of dust escapes, smoking the hall. I take a step back, trying to find breathable air. Avoid The Fire. Why was I taking that so litteral? It could mean nothing, it could be some song, a line from a book. Rye walks in, but I notice it's with careful steps. I follow, first noticing the room is empty, with the exception of a few peices of furniture. "Don't I have a roommate?" 

 

"She speaks." He grins, "No one would dare spend one night living in this room." He begins to shake, his laughter so low I cannot hear it. "Why?" I ask, looking for a lightswitch. "Don't bother, the lighting doesn't work yet." He says, and my body grows tense. "No light?" I ask, setting down my bags. "Not yet."

 

He begins rummaging through a few drawers until he finds a good amount of candles. "Don't leave them burning when you leave the room." He says, as if he's talking to a child. He lights a few and sets them around the room. As he does this, I walk over to the window, pulling back the curtains. The fog is almost too thick to see anything. All I can see is the tops of trees peaking through the cloudy-white, near my window. I see a gap between them, but cannot tell what is in the open space.

 

"What's that?" I ask, turning towards Rye. He doesn't walk towards me, he just grins again. "You don't want to go out there Erica, it isn't safe." I fold my arms over my chest, feeling cold once more. "What's out there?" My tone fights against histeria. If there was even a chance of my father letting me return home, I'd be on the phone with him already.

 

"I'm not supposed to tell you the stories. No one is, but I'm sure one of your new classmates will have no problem explaining them to you tomorrow." His voice was serious, but absent as well. "What stories?" Could he be more vague? "Look." His eyes meet mine, they pierce into me like daggers. "It's your first day here. I understand you need to get used to this place, but starting off with those stories is not a good idea." He says, setting the last candle down on my new dresser. "Meet new people, make friends.. try to get used to the fog. You're going to be here a while." 

 

Pushing a fallen curl from his face, his grin returns once more. "Welcome to Slandoff, Erica. Where not everything is bright and colorful, nor inviting. You should be greatful we even have a welcoming committe." He says, turning swiftly away from me. "Get settled in. I'll bring your class schedule by in a few hours." And just like that he was gone, vanished from the room, leaving me in utter darkness.

 

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Author's Note

I truly love this story, and it was my first [and only] try at mystery and horror. It get's rather weird, but I think that helps the story. The chapters are longer than for my other Books, but I believe this story is better than my other books. I hope you will continue reading.