Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
The van pulled up to a four-story, stone building with Bavarian wood cross-posts, stopping beneath a portico. In the misty night, the manor looked like it grew naturally from the Alpine crags, like some dread monolith conceived of by a pitiless primordial god. Yet, this was spring term—midway through the school year—and it seemed I was the only newbie in the group. I seemed to be the only one appropriately awed.
The double doors opened. A woman emerged, holding a lantern. Although her bearing was regal, the morphic shadows cast by the lantern gave her a dark, gothic look. There was no smile, no welcome, just a shadowy look of superior domination. The driver hurried out of the van, serving her with a short bow from the waist.
“How many, Hans?” Her voice matched her manner.
“Fourteen, Miss Amelia,” he responded with a heavy, gruff accent, his head bowed.
“Very well. Send them inside.” She turned and retreated into the dark of the building, the lantern light stolen from where we all were exiting the bus.
The only light to see by was a pair of torch sconces hung high on either side of the doorway. I shivered—not from the chill of the night, but from the sinister façade of the building that looked like it was from a set of a Dracula film.
I caught myself in time as I tripped, coming off the last step. If I’d had any sense—or money—I would have bought a new set of wheeled luggage. My old molded-plastic valises would be unbearably awkward on these ancient stairs. My new sense of thrift was going to cost me in labor soon enough. I scanned the twisting stairwells and landings that loomed like promontories and couldn’t puzzle out how I would lug these bags myself.
The two main sweeping staircases banking the foyer rose to a stained-glass dome that capped the space. Miss Amelia stood straight and unmoving in the center of the foyer, waiting for some cue only she could hear. You could feel her energy, authoritative yet exhausted, like she probably preferred to be off somewhere to herself. That, however, would mean relinquishing her power to an understudy—something she couldn’t permit. Not ever. At least, that was my first impression of Miss Amelia.
“Students, young men are housed on the third floor, ladies, on the second. Classes are held in the buildings set to the east from the back of the building. You are responsible for arriving at the appointed time, and tardiness can result in expulsion. There will be no on-campus fraternizing between genders. Nor off-campus.”
As if on cue to undermine this warning, a young man in sweatpants and a tight sleeveless tee stepped out on one of these overhanging landings. I took notice of him immediately, in part because he was so high above us and in part because he was, for lack of a better term, insanely hot. Even in the dim light, I could make out his perfect, smooth, cherubic face and thick, styled black hair. His skin was the color of almonds. And skimpy shirt gave us all a clear view of his swollen, hairless pecks and strapping arms, the biceps of which were wrapped with serpent tattoos that wound from his shoulders to just above his elbows
The guy scanned us from above, munching on a handful of cashews. His nonchalance felt weirdly intimidating, like he was selecting a lobster from a tank to boil and devour. After a moment, his eyes fell on me, and I looked away. When I glanced back up a minute later, he was still staring.
“Meals are served in the first-floor dining room at 7 a.m., noon, and 5 p.m.,” Miss Amelia went on. “Be in your seats as the dining room doors will be locked for entry at the appointed hour. No food is allowed in your rooms. No smoking, no medications—legal or otherwise—without a written note from your doctor, and laundry may be processed in the room at the end of your respective hallways. That’s enough for now. You will hear bells promptly at 6 a.m. and should be freshly showered and appropriately dressed when you arrive for breakfast. Your bedding is folded at the foot of your bunk, and you are each allotted one small closet and a single desk. Music is not permitted in the rooms. You are here to study, not to be entertained.”
She stopped talking, and I saw her head bobbing slightly as she mentally went through her list. It was late, after all. I took the pause to look back up for the hunk on the landing, but he was gone.
“And no alcohol on the premises!” she added and then snapped her fingers and watched as we all struggled with our luggage.
I looked around. As I feared, there wasn’t an elevator in the place. Dragging my bags to the bottom of the nearest stairwell, I took a breath and gritted my teeth. At least, being a girl, I was only on the second floor. With a grunt, I heaved the luggage from the floor and started my laborious ascent.