Page 22 of Escaping Hallow Hill Academy
And another class assignment is due in three hours.
I don’t know which is more terrifying at this moment.
After that first night and my botched attempt at escaping, I found myself in the company of my supposed mentor, though I feel like he’s a glorified babysitter. I don’t bother telling him he doesn’t need to watch after me. I’m not a complete moron. I’m not going to rip my spine out through my own asshole just to go back to being on the run, killing shitty humans for shit pay.
I wonder if that’s part of the illusion of this place and feel slightly disgusted with myself for falling into it.
I write one more filler word with my scratchy quill, but I can’t seem to force my essay to hit Professor Sills favorite number: four thousand.
My wrist cramps, but I keep going. Wind breezes right through my hair and across my flesh until I shiver, but I ignore it.
It’s a job. And I always finish a job.
Even one that revolves around death and fucking essays.
“Why do you never attend the classes?” I ask as I pretend to dot some i’s and cross some t’s.
“Why are you writing instead of watching for your target?” Sialen fires back with both a bored and annoyed tone of voice.
Why is he here? Is it some sort of bonding experience between the only two Sekar’s in the world? No one else has a mentor.
No one.
Just me. And lucky me, he’s a total fuckhole to be around.
In the past fourteen days, he’s told me nothing about himself. Kira fills me in on my mentor more than anything. Hell, even Rueren drops tidbits like crumbs every now and then. When he wants something, that is.
But I still know nothing about my mentor except he tried to bind his soul and failed, that his marks seem cursed somehow, and that he’s pissed off at the world and takes it out on me and everyone else within his vicinity.
Bastard.
“Tell me something about you,” I demand flatly, dropping my quill and splattering ink across the crisp paper, but I have to show him I’m here. I have to skip the facade of power that everyone around me forces on display and make sure he knows that I’m here for him.
Just like he should fucking be here for me.
As the last of our kind, we have a responsibility to keep our Lady alive. In a fantasy scenario, I’d say we were obligated to keep the lineage going. This isn’t fantasy, and I wouldn’t want his stiff dick. Sex with Sialen is probably as enthralling as personality is. Actually, his personality is a bit on the rough side.
Images of hair pulling, nails scratching, and forceful thrusting flicker through my mind.
I shake my long hair back and forth until the delicious—I meandisturbingthought flits away.
His bright eyes close slowly, and I don’t know if he’s praying or counting for calmness or imagining my death, but with time, he finally cuts his cold attention to me.
And it sears through my heart. Every time he looks at me is like a knife cutting through my skin just to revive my soul.
“I don’t like to talk. Now you know something. So shut up.” He cocks a dark eyebrow at me until it nearly hits his stark white hair.
The Princess-looking fucker. I swear to fuck, he looks like an anime character, and my otaku heart skips a beat in an almost painful way. I rub across my chest gently but stop the motion when I see he notices.
“What happened to your runes of darkness? The blessings our Lady herself gifted us with, what happened?” I shove those words at him fast and remorselessly, and it doesn’t even make him flinch.
My heartbeat drums in my ears. It’s a heat that burns through my flesh, and I can’t hide it. I hate it. I fucking loathe it. He stares at me with so much hatred and so much passion in his gaze that it makes me shift. It isn’t sexual. Hate shouldn’t be sexual.
But it feels like it is.
And it feels like he might finally tell me something real.
Anything.
