CHAPTER ONE- The Bell That Didn't Stop Ringing....
The bell rang at exactly 7:45 a.m.
Sharp. Metallic. Too loud for such an ordinary morning.
I was halfway through tying my shoelace when it happened, crouched near the lockers outside Lecture Hall C. The sound cut through the hallway like it had weight, like it wasn't just noise but a warning. Conversations broke off mid-sentence. Someone laughed nervously. Someone else cursed under their breath.
I straightened slowly, pulling my backpack higher on my shoulder.
Blackridge University always felt like this in the morning crowded, rushed, alive in a way that made you forget to breathe properly. Students moved in tight waves, coffee cups in hand, headphones on, eyes fixed forward like we were all chasing something invisible. Deadlines. Expectations. A future none of us were sure we wanted.
I told myself this morning was no different.
I was wrong.
It started with a scream.
Not the dramatic kind you hear in movies. This one was raw. Short. Torn straight from someone's chest.
Heads snapped toward the east corridor. A boy came running around the corner, nearly crashing into a pillar. His face was pale, eyes wide and unfocused, like he wasn't seeing what was in front of him anymore.
Blood covered his hands.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then everything exploded at once.
People shouted. Someone dropped their phone. A girl near me gasped and grabbed her friend's arm so hard I heard nails scrape skin. The boy stumbled forward, trying to speak, but no words came out. His mouth opened and closed like he was drowning on dry land.
"Hey—hey!" someone yelled. "What happened?"
The boy shook his head violently. He looked down at his hands like he'd only just noticed the blood. Fresh. Dark. Too much of it.
"I I didn't" he choked.
Then he vomited on the floor.
I took a step back without thinking.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest. I should have looked away. I should have joined the crowd already forming, whispering and pointing and speculating.
Instead, my eyes drifted past the boy.
Down the corridor he had come from.
The lights flickered.
Just once. Quick enough that I wondered if I imagined it.
The hallway beyond looked… wrong.
Empty, for one thing. That section was always busy this time of morning. But now there wasn't a single person there. No footsteps. No voices. Just silence stretching too far.
And something else.
A smell.
Not sharp like chemicals. Not sickly like decay. Something deeper. Metallic. Warm.
Blood.
My stomach twisted.
Security arrived fast. Too fast.
Two guards appeared from opposite ends of the hall, moving with practiced calm. One of them gently guided the boy away, speaking in a low voice I couldn't hear. The other turned to face us, hands raised.
"Alright, everyone, please remain calm," he said. "There's been an incident, but it's under control."
Under control.
I hated how easily people accepted those words.
"What kind of incident?" someone asked.
"A prank?" another voice said, hopeful.
The guard hesitated for half a second. Just long enough for me to notice.
"Yes," he said finally. "A prank that got out of hand. No one is seriously hurt. Please proceed to your lectures."
A ripple of uneasy laughter moved through the crowd.
A prank.
With blood.
I glanced down the corridor again.
It was still empty.
Too empty.
The lights steadied. The smell faded, or maybe my brain decided to protect me by pretending it wasn't there. Slowly, reluctantly, people began to move again. Conversations restarted, louder now, fueled by adrenaline and curiosity.
"Did you see his face?"
"There was blood everywhere."
"I heard someone got stabbed."
"No way, they'd shut the place down."
"I swear Blackridge gets weirder every year."
I stood frozen, my feet refusing to move.
Something was wrong.
Not just with what happened but with the way it was being erased right in front of us.
"Aera."
I flinched at the sound of my name.
Mila stood beside me, her eyebrows pulled together in concern. She was already late she always was but for once she wasn't complaining.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I think so," I said, though my voice didn't sound convincing even to me.
She followed my gaze down the corridor. "Creepy, right?"
"Yeah."
She shivered. "Let's go before they lock us in or something."
We joined the slow-moving crowd into Lecture Hall C. The professor started ten minutes late, blaming "technical difficulties." No one mentioned the scream. No one mentioned the blood.
By the time class ended, it was like the morning never happened.
Except it had.
I couldn't focus. Words blurred on the projector screen. My pen hovered uselessly over my notebook. Every time someone shifted in their seat, my muscles tensed.
When the final bell rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
That was when I noticed it.
My shadow.
It stretched too far.
The overhead lights cast shadows at our feet as we packed up, but mine didn't move the way it should have. While everyone else's stayed neatly beneath them, mine spilled forward, long and thin, reaching toward the aisle.
I blinked.
It snapped back into place.
My heart skipped.
Get a grip, I told myself. You're tired. That's all.
But the feeling didn't go away.
The rest of the day passed in fragments. Whispers followed me through the halls. Not about me about what happened. The story changed every time I heard it. A fight. A breakdown. Fake blood. Performance art.
No one mentioned a body.
I skipped lunch.
By evening, the campus had settled into its usual rhythm. Lights glowed warm against darkening skies. Music drifted from open windows. Blackridge looked harmless again.
I was crossing the quad when I felt it.
That sensation you get when someone is watching you.
I slowed.
The feeling didn't fade.
I stopped completely.
Students passed by, laughing, arguing, living their normal lives. None of them noticed the way the air around me felt heavier, like it was pressing in.
I turned slowly.
A man stood near the edge of the quad, partially hidden beneath a tree.
No not a man.
A student. About my age. Dark hair. Sharp features. He wore a Blackridge jacket like everyone else, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
He wasn't smiling.
He wasn't blinking either.
Our eyes met.
The world seemed to tilt.
Something deep in my chest tightened, sharp and sudden, like an invisible thread snapping into place. My breath caught, not in fear but recognition.
Which made no sense.
I didn't know him.
Yet my body reacted like it did.
He took a step toward me.
Instinct screamed.
I turned and walked away.
I didn't run. I refused to. But my pace quickened, heart pounding. I could feel him behind me. Not chasing. Following. Like he knew I wouldn't escape.
I ducked into the library, blending into the crowd, weaving between shelves until my lungs burned.
When I finally stopped, I leaned against a wall and closed my eyes.
You're fine, I told myself. Nothing is happening.
The lights above flickered.
Just once.
I opened my eyes.
My shadow moved.
Not with me.
On the wall beside me, it stretched upward, twisting into a shape that wasn't human at all.
I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.
When I blinked, it was gone.
Footsteps echoed down the aisle.
Slow. Deliberate.
A familiar voice spoke from behind me, calm and curious.
"You felt it too, didn't you?"
I turned.
The man from the quad stood there, watching me like he'd been looking for me all along.
And somewhere deep beneath Blackridge University, something ancient stirred—
as if it had finally found what it was waiting for.
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