Page 6 of The Bleak Beginning

Maxwell’s eyes tightened as she observes my disapproving expression while we climb the stairs. She trails close behind me as we enter the building, her body tensed up. I can’t help but worry about the quality of the air inside. My nose wrinkles as I take a deep breath. A faint musty and damp smell lingers in the dormitory, hinting at mold and mildew in the decaying structure.

The interior of the building is just as dilapidated as the outside. The walls were covered in peeling paint, revealing a long history of faded colors. Cracked ceiling tiles allowed rustedpipes to poke through, adding to the overall dinginess of the space. As I looked around, my mind couldn’t help but wonder about the origin of the stains. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought that it could be something worse than just water seeping through, the yellow color was definitely questionable. I desperately hoped that the students who occupied this place had more respect for themselves, especially considering how highly Maxwell liked to tout this university. But then again, maybe I was just grasping at straws for some sense of comfort in this run-down building.

My nose pinches, “I feel like I need to get a tetanus shot from just looking at these walls.”

“Unfortunately, this dorm has become more of an overflow space, as most students have chosen the other housing options. However, it iscompletelysafe,” she assures me with emphasis, trying to ease my concerns. But her words do little to reassure me.

Safe? This place looked like it could collapse at any moment. “Is the mildew complimentary, or will I be charged extra for that once the bill comes at the end of the semester?” I say flatly.

I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince, but the stains on the walls are definitely not a creative design choice. In fact, they appear to be covered in mildew rather than a trendy new wallpaper.

As I step forward, something brushes against my foot. I freeze, my breath catching in my chest.

“Please, please don't tell me that was—”

A small, shadowy shape scurries across the floor.

I glance down, then look back up at Maxwell with a blank expression. “Great. Now I get to live with rats too? If this place were any more ‘authentic,’ I’d expect it to come with a medieval plague.”

Maxwell’s lips tighten into a hard line. “I assure you, despite its appearance, Prescott Dormitory is structurally sound. This university takes great care to ensure the safety of all its students.”

“Right,” I mutter, unconvinced.

“Come along, this way.” she says, hurrying me along. “Your room is on the top floor.”

Let’s just hope it’s got a decent bed. I was exhausted from the long drive. My muscles were starting to strain, but I forced myself to keep up.

I follow closely as she leads us the rest of the way up several flights of stairs. “The building is completely secure,” she reassures me just as we hear a high-pitched groan and a few squeaks and rattles coming from above.

I glance up at the opening above me. The pipes running through it are old and corroded, leaking droplets of rusty water that stain the ground below. The sound takes me back to when my sister Clara and I were kids, and our elderly neighbor who used to watch us would often doze off, snoring loudly on the couch while we played. We would sometimes play a game where we put a feather under her nose to see if she was still breathing.

The pipes groan in sympathy, reminding us of the building’s age as we halt outside a door.

“We just fumigated, so the odor shouldn’t be too terrible. As I said, your arrival was unexpected, and we were on a tight schedule.” She dismissively waves her hand. “I hope your room meets your expectations.”

“Remember, nine sharp. My office,” Maxwell reminds me just as I’m about to unlock the door. I nod, and she takes it as confirmation. “Perfect, I’ll see you then.” With that, she walks back down the hallway without a second thought.

What an odd woman.

“Well, this should be interesting,” I mutter to myself before unlocking the door. I push it open, bracing myself for the worst, but instead finding something pleasantly unexpected.

The room is a vision of opulence, with intricately carved furniture and plush velvet fabrics in rich colors. The bedroom is a grand space with high ceilings and elegant furnishings. The large windows are arched, framing the night sky that glistens with stars in the soft moonlight. I bet in the daylight; the sun casts the room in the most stunning golden glow.

Every surface is adorned with ornate finishes, from the elaborate crown molding to the delicate gold filigree on the bed frame. This room—myroom, was like a jewel box, filled with treasures and adorned with exquisite craftsmanship.

I wiggle my toes within the tight confines of my shoes before giving up and kicking them off, savoring the softness of the plush area rug beneath my feet. My body relaxes, grateful for this moment of peace. I scan the room, searching for any signs of darkness or discoloration on the walls or ceiling, but all I saw were the smooth, creamy surfaces accented with delicate gold trim that gleamed in the moonlight. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I searched for any musty or damp scents, but all I could smell was the faint hint of fresh paint. Finally, a stroke of luck in my otherwise unfortunate life.

The plushness beneath my bare feet is like walking on clouds. The intricate designs on the furniture dare me to run my fingertips over its smooth surfaces, but I decide against it, seeking the comfort of my new bed.

A tired moan escapes my lips. The bedspread is smooth and cool to the touch, beckoning me to climb under, but for now I only sink my back into the lush softness instead, staring up at the ceiling as I pull out my phone to text my sister.

I stick out my tongue and send her a picture with a text letting her know I made it okay. As I wait for her reply, I find mymind wandering back to the weird interaction earlier with the cigarette guy even as my lids grow heavy, and sleep threatens.

He was like a ghost, shifting in the shadows, with eyes that glinted like sharpened blades and a face that revealed no emotion. It was as if he were a statue, his features frozen before me. He exuded only danger.

But I couldn’t muster up a hint of fear. I let out a deep, unashamed yawn in the privacy of my room. My mind slowed down as I gave into my exhaustion. Drained of all energy, I surrendered to the paralysis of sleep.

Whoever my shadow was, he couldn’t haunt me any longer tonight.

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