This always happened to her. It was almost laughable how routine it had become.
Kat came from money. Real money. Old, rooted, and endlessly connected. Her last roommate? Expelled within a month. No one ever questioned Kat's stories, no matter how outrageous. And Lina? She didn't want trouble. She'd worked too hard to stay invisible.
But tonight, she was just tired.
"I want to get into my room," Lina said, voice quiet but firm. She stood straight, backpack over one shoulder, trying really trying; not to sound like a pushover.
Kat turned to her with a slow smirk, tilting her head like she was looking at a bug on her windshield. A perfectly waxed brow arched high over narrowed eyes.
"Your room, huh?" Kat's voice was syrup-slick with venom. "Since you don't feel like sharing, neither do I. Tonight, it's my room, you freaky-eyed bitch."
The door slammed so hard it echoed down the hallway, followed a second later by the hard, deliberate sound of bolts sliding into place.
Click. Clack.
Lina stood there for a beat, staring at the door like it might open if she just waited long enough. But it didn't. Of course not. It never did.
She turned slowly, shoulders hunched, and walked away.
Why did she keep trying?
She should've known how it would end—the insults, the cold metal lock, the humiliation. And the names? They weren't even new. Just louder now. Freaky-eyed bitch. Whatever that meant. And sure, she was bigger than most girls on campus. So what?
That didn't make her any less human.
But tonight marked the fourth time this month she'd be sleeping in the art studio. She'd prepared for it now; left a blanket and pillow in the storage closet along with a gym bag of clothes. Maybe it was time to invest in a futon. Maybe she should just move in full-time.
As for reporting Kat? Useless. No one messed with the school's favorite golden girl not if they wanted to stay enrolled.
She walked back down the corridor, her footsteps the only sound in the dim hallway.
Outside, the night air felt colder than it should've. It clung to her skin like a warning. Midnight wrapped the campus in thick, eerie silence. The overhead streetlamps cast small halos of light, just enough to show how deep the shadows stretched between them.
Normally, the walk wouldn't bother her. But tonight, under the full moon's gaze, everything felt off. Wrong.
She passed the edge of the men's dorms on her way to the Creative Arts building when she saw movement near the front gates.
Someone was walking toward her.
At first, just a figure tall, with long strides. But as he came closer, she saw the sheer size of him. Towering. Broad-shouldered like a linebacker, dressed head to toe in black. His hair, thick and wavy, brushed just past his shoulders, and shimmered blue under the moonlight.
The streetlights flickered as he walked beneath them, making him appear and disappear in patches of shadow.
By the time he passed under the next lamp, she could see the rest silver necklaces, thick chains, glinting piercings, and a massive black ink tattoo that crawled from his collarbone up his throat. His presence was unreal. Overwhelming.
Predatory.
She hadn't even realized she'd stopped walking. She just stood there, staring, her breath shallow. And in her head, one word echoed on repeat:
Blood.