*KIRA MYR*
Age: 21
Sex: Feminine
***
I had left my door open to catch the creep that had snuck into my room, just to be met with a cryptid.
[I'm acting crazy again. I didn't see anything, I didn't see anything.]
Tomorrow's exam didn't leave room to be seeing terrifying ice-men. Just to be sure, I opened a crack in the door and peered outside. No icicles, no cryptid with white hair, nothing. That proved it, I was seeing things.
A sigh of relief lightened the weight pressing on my lungs, and I slipped back into bed. Half exhausted from worrying about the exam and half still too scared from what I saw, my eyes soon grew heavy and sleep overtook me.
A dreamless night quickly turning into blinding day, it was too bright, too loud, too everything.
The clock by my bedside flashed neon red digits, 9:00 AM. Fuck, I was late.
My body moved faster than thought, rushing to shower and get as ready as I could. I left half asleep with a toothbrush between my teeth. Sifting through the mop of students loitering the dorm halls, it took not more than half a dozen minutes to be greeted by the sky.
[F- 237, building C. F-237, building C.]
I ran past the first two buildings, one to my left and another to my right. Building A and B. Had this been any other school, that would be it, Building C would be right after.
But this was V's College for the Scholars and Athletes and we prided ourselves on being stupidly over the top.
I dashed past Building 1, Building 2, Building Delta A, and Building Delta B. It continued this way for about twelve buildings, each adding a different Greek letter all the way to Lambda.
Finally, across a small road, was building C, disposed to my right. I hated this buil-I rushed in, cutting through my own thought.
By now, it was 9:14 AM; I had long missed my first period, and the exam was about to start in under five minutes.
I could make it.
My legs moved like rockets and I shot toward the class, fuck I hated how unnecessarily huge this school's buildings were. It was beautiful but inconvenient when late and running to class.
"Kira Myr?" Mr. Ernin called.
"Here! I'm here!" I burst through the door, a mess of sweat and tangled hair.
"It's nice of you to join us. Please take a seat as we'll soon be starting the exam."
Once seated and the exam placed before me, I took up my pencil and looked at the first question.
"Describe in detail Delva's emotional arc throughout the first 50 pages. "
Delva…
I thought back to the book we had read, Thorns Of A Lovely Pheasant. The first 50 pages weren't particularly interesting, talking about the main character's journey to get an audience with a king.
Fear turned to hope turned to disappointment turned to desperation. That summed up his emotional arc, but I couldn't write that.
The sand felt infernal under my feet, the sun was even worse. The four classroom halls had turned into a colosseum, towering above me, larger than life. A shadow, darker than darkness and fuming with hostility, enveloped my body. I looked up, only to be met with nothing. What glared down at me wasn't a face but the words "Describe in detail Delva's emotional arc throughout the first 50 pages," which had taken the place of the shadow's visage.
Drapped in a dark cloak and armed with a curved scimitar, what stood before me couldn't be human.
I swung first, it was the Kira thing to do. My weapon, a pencil almost the size of my body, came into collision with the shadows's scimitar. My paragraph battled self-analyses, sending sparks and graphite through the air.
"Too vague!" The words thundered, causing me to lose my balance. A dark leg came to meet the pit of my stomach, sending me back a few steps. Only with a rewrite did I barely block the downward slash that came after, avoiding a fatal error.
"Delva's was scared but despite that still hoped he'd be able to help his daughter, his emotions through the story reflect the vulnerability of humans!"
Each word a slash, each word a centimeter of ground I gained over my opponent.
"You forgot textual evidence!" It hissed, raising its blade to block my answer. Pages turned, searching for a citation, a phrase to solidify my stance. I scribble down a defence, quoting the scene when Delva is forced to temporarily abandon his quest.
With my concluding statement, I swept the leg. The shadow fell, unable to come up with a response. I no longer felt the blazing sun on my skin and the four classroom walls had returned, but a bead of sweat still ran down my cheek.
On my desk lay my essay, the final line underlined twice:
"Delva's evolution is not just emotional—it's human."
The first question was always the hardest, that's how Mr. Ernin did exams. Compared to that, the other questions were a breeze. There was no need for any added flair nor for over-the-top visualisation. I answered the questions like normal and turned in my exam.
Or I would've.
A scream stole my attention and that of my classmates.
It came from outside, and its source was clear. Eliya trembled as she backed away from a man dressed in what could've been prison clothes. Dressed in a grey and blue jacket with similarly colored pants was a familiar man.
It was the cryptid I had seen last night, I was sure of it! His hair may not be white and he may not look as frightening, but it was definitely him.