Leon couldn't believe it.
He stood, eyes wide with excitement, as he looked at his parents and then at the grand entrance to Gilbert – the prestigious boarding school that many students in Poland only dreamed of attending.
Local legends still whispered about the horror that had unfolded here over twenty years ago, but most people had long since forgotten. Today, the building was famous for housing the best high school in the country. Only truly wealthy parents could afford to send their children here.
Leon came from a rich family, but he never flaunted it.
Maybe it was because he was born in Sweden and grew up there as a child?
He didn't feel superior to others and couldn't understand those rich kids who constantly tried to prove how much better they were than everyone else.
His parents had raised him to respect everyone—regardless of status or appearance. Because of that, Leon never judged people by labels. Anyone he clicked with could become a friend.
With bright eyes, he looked around, taking in the atmosphere. The building had kept its eerie charm. The gates surrounding it, beyond which stretched a dense forest, only added to the mysterious aura of the past.
This place was incredible.
"Son, we hope this isn't just a whim. Studying here costs a lot, so you need to value the money we're spending and stick it out for the full three years, no matter how hard it gets. We believe in you," his father said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I won't quit, no matter how hard it gets. I promise."
His mother stroked his hair, pride in her eyes.
"But remember, you can always call us," she added.
Leon nodded.
"Thank you for making my dream come true. I'll do everything I can not to let you down," he said solemnly.
"All the paperwork is taken care of. Do you want us to walk you to your room?"
"God, no," he replied quickly, horrified by the idea. He loved his parents and wasn't embarrassed by them, but at his age, getting escorted right to his door would be so uncool. "I'm a big boy now. I'll manage."
His mother kissed him on the cheek, and his father gave his shoulder a pat.
"Remember, you can call us anytime!" she called as she and her husband headed for the car.
"Yes, Mom, I'll remember."
With his suitcase in hand, Leon headed toward the main entrance, still in awe of his surroundings. He couldn't get over how amazing this place was.
In his mind, headlines about the tragedy that took place here more than two decades ago kept resurfacing.
It was hard to believe.
A soft breath of wonder escaped his lips as he stepped inside.
Though the interior had been renovated, it still carried the ambiance of the past – dark, slightly warlike, as if the walls still remembered screams.
He looked around, unsure which way to go to find his room. That's when his eyes caught sight of another boy standing nearby.
He looked just as lost.
Leon wanted to go over and say something, but hesitated, unsure how the stranger might react.
The boy had a surly expression, and while Leon didn't like judging people by appearances, his gut told him to be careful.
He quickly looked away when the boy caught him staring.
"What the hell are you looking at?"
Leon had been right. The guy wasn't exactly in a friendly mood.
"Sorry," Leon said, raising a hand in a defensive gesture. "I just thought I'd say hi. Looked like you were wondering where to find the rooms too."
"The only thing I'm gonna find here is misery," the boy muttered under his breath.
Clutching a black suitcase, he started toward the stairs, apparently guessing the boys' dorms would be there.
Leon followed, ignoring the other boy's grumpy expression. On the stairs, the stranger turned to him with a frown.
"Why are you following me?"
"You seem like a clever guy. I figured I'd get there faster by sticking with you."
"You're annoying," the boy grumbled.
Leon smirked to himself.
The guy was a jerk—but at least he was honest.
*
The Swiss boy kept glancing at his roommate now and then as he unpacked his suitcase. He couldn't help but smile ever since he found out they'd be sharing a room.
The look on the other boy's face when he'd walked in behind Leon and saw the name on the door had been absolutely priceless.
"You can't escape destiny," Leon said, fully aware those words would only annoy him. "At least tell me your name?"
"People I plan to treat like air don't need to know my name," the other boy muttered flatly.
"Ouch, that stung," Leon replied, placing a hand theatrically over his chest.
"Shut up already, or I'll ask to change rooms."
The guy clearly wasn't keen on socializing and didn't seem interested in making friends with anyone.
Or maybe… he just didn't like Leon?
"But you do realize I already know your name?" the Swiss boy pressed, refusing to give up. "I saw your surname on the door, Mr. Natan?"
"What an annoying asshole," Natan growled and threw a hoodie at him.
The fury on his face only amused Leon more. The sixteen-year-old burst out laughing—a laugh so contagious that even the grumpy roommate cracked a faint smile, letting the "cold guy" mask slip a little.
"Screw you. You ruined my role as the resident asshole."
"Dude, there's not a soul who doesn't end up liking me," Leon declared, walking over to him. "So, let's make it official: I'm Leon."
He extended his hand.
Reluctantly, his roommate returned the handshake.
"Natan. But you—you can call me Mr. Natan."
At that moment, the door swung open again, and a third boy walked in—apparently the owner of the last bed.
"Well, well, puppies. I'm Sebastian, and I'm your senior. But I can also be your dad around here."
Leon raised an eyebrow. This guy seemed completely detached from reality.
"I think 'older brother' sounds a bit more appropriate," the Swiss boy quipped with a smile.
He was liking this place more and more.
"I can already tell you two are gonna be trouble," Sebastian said, looking them over. He pointed at Leon. "You look like a troublemaker." Then he turned to Natan. "And you, like a grumpy introvert."
"Are we sure this isn't a psych ward?" Natan muttered, his tone icy as ever. "Feels like I'm surrounded by lunatics."
Leon had already grown used to his bluntness and ignored the comment.
Sebastian, however, took it differently.
"Yappy little pups always whine the loudest," he said, folding his arms.
"And here I thought they barked—or even bit," Natan shot back, expression stone-cold.
Leon laughed.
Even though they were being kind of rude to Sebastian, he could tell this was their way of showing they wouldn't let anyone push them around—even if he was the oldest in the room.
"There won't be any hierarchy. I won't win against you pups, even if I am the big dog," Sebastian sighed, rolling his eyes.
The boys exchanged high-fives.
Surprisingly quickly, they felt a bond forming—like they'd known each other for years.
As if they were finally reuniting… after a long time apart.
*
Nadia looked at her parents' distressed faces as they walked her up to the boarding school gates.
It had taken her two years to convince them to apply to this high school, even though she knew what had once happened here—how much pain they had endured within these very walls.
They weren't happy that their daughter had insisted on this school, even if it was now considered the best in the country and graduating from it all but guaranteed entry into elite universities.
They still believed the place carried a dark aura—that it wasn't safe—even if the people from the north who had once ruled here had been dead for over twenty years.
They felt nothing but unease and dread, but in the end, they respected their daughter's decision. She had promised nothing bad would happen, that the past nightmare had vanished with them—buried deep in memory.
"If you ever feel unwell, or change your mind… just call us. We'll come and get you, okay, Nadia?"
Her mother touched her face, looking into her daughter's eyes with concern.
"I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Especially here."
"If you survived the terror here, then our daughter will survive a little hard studying and some annoying teachers," Oliwer said, arms crossed.
For a moment, fear flickered in his eyes as he looked at the building.
The memories came back with shocking force.
Sara felt it too, though she tried to push the dark thoughts away.
"Is it a curse… that we've come back? That our daughter chose this place?" she asked, still gripped by panic.
"Love, Nadia will be fine. She's stronger than we were at her age," Oliwer reassured her, pulling her into a side-hug.
"I'm glad you mentioned that, Dad. There was a reason they used to call me the Devil's Spark in middle school."
"I hope they call you that here, too."
"Oliwer!" Sara scolded him, clearly worried.
The last thing they needed was their daughter becoming yet another dark mark on this place.
"You two are acting weird. I think this place is affecting you more than me." Nadia smiled faintly. "Anyway, I'm off—goodbye!"
She hugged them both tightly, then dashed toward the school entrance, dragging her pink suitcase behind her.
Sara lifted her eyes to her husband.
"Since we're already here… should we… go back there, just for a moment?" she asked quietly.
He immediately understood what she meant and nodded.
With his arm around her, they walked behind the building.
They were stunned to see the pond and the old tree still standing—untouched by time.
Sara placed her hand on the trunk, fingers tracing the names carved into the bark.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she couldn't stop them.
The names of their old friends struck her with sudden, raw pain.
Laura —the wild roommate who had become her closest friend in this place. Their contact had vanished completely after she left for Japan with her boyfriend.
Simon —the boy who had died here as a teenager. He had cared for her even after death.
Matheew —Oliwer's best friend. From the start, he had been the most kind and helpful to Sara.
That energetic, charismatic man had died five years ago in a car crash.
Seeing his name made even Oliwer's eyes glisten.
They had stayed close until the very end.
Sara turned to her husband, pain etched across her face.
Her gaze fell on the name of the boy she had once loved as a teenager—the one who had sacrificed himself so they could escape.
Alan…
Oliwer pulled her close as she stared through her tears toward the pond.
She could have sworn she saw the ghosts again—circling the water, lively, full of energy…
As if they wanted to tell her something.
"Are you alright, love?" Oliwer asked gently, wiping tears from her cheek.
She nodded, but her eyes were now fixed on two boys approaching from the path.
One of them was speaking excitedly, gesturing toward the pond.
The other followed silently, clearly not thrilled.
They both carried something of Mateusz and Oliwer's aura.
Sara's heart skipped a beat as the spirits grew more agitated.
She shifted her gaze back to the boys—and her blood ran cold.
A wave of chills spread down her spine.
Behind one of them, just over his shoulder, loomed a terrifying black shadow.
A demon.
The face of the General.
The cheerful boy had no idea that he carried darkness with him.
As he passed Sara and Oliwer, his eyes met hers.
Something unexplainable stirred in her chest—a deep ache, a strange yearning.
It was as if an echo of her old love lived within that boy.
"Oliwer, please… let's go. I don't feel well."
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"I think there are too many spirits here… draining my energy…"
He nodded and led her back toward the front of the building.
Sara glanced back one last time—toward the pond.
Again, her eyes met the boy's.
He was still watching her.
And the darkness swirling around him…
looked pleased.
In that moment, she wanted to take her daughter and run.
But she knew Nadia wouldn't listen. This place was still terrifying. Still dangerous.
And that boy — especially that boy — was the most dangerous of all.