Gothikana

Corvina wasn’t the only one with secrets, it seemed.

As they unpacked and settled into the room, dusk rapidly falling outside, Corvina decided to simply confront the issue that had made her one immediate friend in the place go quiet.

“Is it true? What he said?” she asked Jade and watched as the other girl’s pale hand trembled slightly as she unpacked.

“Yeah,” Jade sighed, flopping down on her bed like a starfish, looking up at the high ceiling.

Their room was surprisingly beautiful.

Spacious, much bigger than her bedroom had been at the cottage, this room had two twin-sized beds facing each other, a bedside table beside each, and a huge wooden armoire cupboard at the corners. Right opposite the entry door was a huge, stunning arched window that looked down at the castle fence amidst the lush green woods, and then further down the mountain. The ceiling was high and had wooden beams she knew were a signature feature of gothic architecture, one she couldn’t remember the name of for the life of her. Thick dark green drapes hung to the sides of the windows, tied together by a polished rope. It was beautiful and more luxurious than anything she’d known before.

And it would get drafty as hell with the wind since the tower had no heating. At least the weather was good for the time being.

Corvina decided to sit on her own bed right opposite Jade’s.

“What happened?” she asked tentatively, still unsure if she wanted to know what happened to the girl who’d preceded her in this room.

“I don’t know. Alissa was happy here,” Jade began, still looking up at the ceiling. “She came from a foster home like me, and we bonded pretty quickly. She loved studying here, she loved this place. She was a good student, a good person. The only rule she broke was hooking up with a professor.”

“That’s not allowed?” Corvina asked, curious.

Jade shook her head. “Absolutely not. It’s one of the strictest rules here. Students and faculty have different lives. But Mr. Deverell… well, he’s different. He’s technically still a student, or at least he was back then since he’d been working on his doctorate.”

“Wait,” Corvina frowned, confused. “Then how was he a teacher?”

“Apparently, the previous professor got a better job and the Board couldn’t find anyone to replace him in time. So, Dr. Greene – she’s the department head – allowed Mr. Deverell to teach the first years while he worked on his thesis, and she took on the senior classes. It’s never happened before, so he was kind of an odd one out.”

Odd indeed.

Corvina got up and started hanging the rest of her clothes as Jade went on. “But also I don’t blame Alissa for hooking up with him at all. She shouldn’t have done it but Mr. Deverell – there’s something about him. He’s hot but so freaking cold. Nobody knows shit about him, where he comes from, anything. Silver-eyed devil, that’s what we called him. And he’s got this premature streak of hair that just works so good for him, you know?”

No, she didn’t know. But she’d take her word for it and get her back on topic. “So Alissa was hooking up with him?”

“Yup, but I was the only one who knew about it. It’s not like they were obvious about it or anything. They actually kept it pretty low-key so I don’t know what happened. Part of me thinks maybe he’s to blame. Why the hell would she go on the roof otherwise? But I don’t know.”

Jade pressed her eyes with the heel of her palms and Corvina felt her heart ache at the pain rolling off her friend. She started to get up to comfort her but sat back down, unsure of what she could do. The sweater in her hands twisted between her fingers.

Jade’s green eyes came to her. “I was in the gardens with Troy – the blonde asshole from downstairs – and his group when I saw her on the roof. I hope they’ve locked it up now. We kept trying to call for her, to get her to listen. She didn’t even look down. No hesitation. No flinch. Just walked off the roof like she could walk on air.”

The setting sun cast an eerie glow in the room as Jade spoke. A shiver wracked Corvina as she listened to her friend talk.

Something shifted in her periphery. Her eyes suddenly went to a corner of the room where light flickered. Blinking, Corvina focused, trying to see if she’d seen something, but it looked like nothing.

Heart pounding, she stood up and walked to her cupboard to set everything in, focusing on the conversation.

“Her body fell right in front of me. Her head cracked open on the impact,” Jade told her, her voice shaking. “I just couldn’t take it. So, I ran away.”

Corvina took in her words, her eyes going out the window, taking in the view. A grotesque gargoyle on the top right corner of the wall outside perched with its mouth wide open. She knew it was just a drain pipe but it looked terrifying. She couldn’t even imagine how creepy it would look at night. 

“Didn’t they investigate?” she asked her new roommate, pulling out a drawer for her underwear. Not that she liked wearing them. Bras and Corvina were not friends. Having grown up the way she had, all alone with just her mother for company, bras had seemed necessary only once in a while. Panties she wore every day except when she just didn’t want to.

“Nobody called the cops,” Jade replied, bringing her attention back to the topic. “They said the school board would handle it since it was a clear case of suicide. They may have had to report it to the police. I don’t know.”

It was very bizarre though. Not at all what she’d been expecting on her first day in this new place. While she’d been slightly nervous about a new school and new people – both environments she’d never really tested herself in – she hadn’t imagined this. She didn’t actually know how to respond or react to the situation, so she opted to stay quiet and simply unpack her stuff.

“Can I get a hug?” the voice from behind her made her turn to see Jade standing there. They were almost the same height. “My foster family always told me to ask for hugs when I got sad.”

Corvina blinked, a little thrown off. Her last human contact had been years ago, her gripping her mother’s hand before it was let go. Swallowing, Corvina stepped forward and put her arms around the girl, blinking back the sudden tears in her eyes. Jade was sweet. She smelled of strawberries and happiness and something a bit dark as she embraced Corvina, they both let out a breath as though the weight of the world had been removed from their shoulders.

“I can sense you’re sad too,” Jade told her. “But you’re good. And if the thing with Alissa taught me anything, it was to talk about shit if it was hurting us. I just want you to know I’m here for you. Anything you want to talk about. No judgment.”

Corvina’s eyes burned. Her nose twitched as it always did when she got close to tears, and she nodded. “Thank you. I’m here for you too.”

Jade pulled back and went to her suitcase, rummaging through a portion and throwing clothes out. “Anyways, I need a change of subject. Boys. Yes, let’s talk boys. You like boys, right? Totally cool if you don’t. I just want to know so I can dish out the right kind of info.”

Corvina chuckled, unpacking her suitcase. “I like boys. Very much. But I don’t really have much experience with them.” Make that any experience.

Jade grinned at her. “Oh, Verenmore is a great place to get experience. Just imagine, where else would you find a catalog of the baddest, broodiest of boys but with actual brains? Right here, that’s where. Most guys here are actually nice, not all of them mind you, but most. If you’re looking for sexual experience though, I’d suggest avoid the first-years. They’re more focused on settling in and their own pleasure than their partner’s, if you know what I mean. Wait, how old are you?”

Corvina was fascinated with Jade’s ability to talk in one breath. “Twenty-one. You?” she answered her question, folding the last of her black skirts from her suitcase. She loved skirts, loved how feminine they made her feel, the sensation of air around her legs, everything about them. Long skirts were her staple.

“Damn, you joined in late. I’m nineteen. Anyways, then I recommend the seniors. They’re usually twenty and above and have more experience,” Jade continued, turning on the lights in the room. The muted yellow glow was pretty comforting. “Just not Troy, the asshole. I was hooking up with him last year and he’s pissed that I ran off. But we’ll work it out.”

Corvina admired her confidence. She hoped one day she’d be able to talk to a boy without feeling like her whole chest was caving in.

Something in the corner flickered again, and Corvina felt her eyes drawn to the spot.

‘Clean your space, Vivi.’

The masculine voice drifted into her mind.

She wasn’t surprised to hear him. It was a voice she’d heard all her life. It was a voice of comfort, something that left a sweet fragrance of sandalwood in her head. The first time she’d heard him, she’d called him Mo. Mo had always been with her, guiding her, and she knew better than to ignore his advice. The one and only time she had ignored it, he’d asked her to check on her mother and she hadn’t. The next morning, she’d found her mama staring into space. It had taken days to bring her back. 

Taking a deep breath in, she closed her eyes and pushed her suitcase under her bed, bringing the smaller bag up, shaking its contents out.

“You mind if I light some incense in the room?” Corvina asked her roommate.

Jade’s eyes came to the stuff on her bed, an excited gleam in them as she eyed her cards. “Dude, you read tarot?”

Corvina hesitated, then nodded softly. “Yes.”

“That is so cool!” Jade exclaimed. That was usually not the reaction when she told people. “Will you do a reading for me one day?”

Corvina smiled tentatively. “Sure. I’m good at this.”

“I don’t doubt it. You have that air about you,” Jade commented, waving a hand around the room. “You be you. Do whatever makes you comfortable. I’m chill.”

The universe had done her a solid with this girl. Smiling, she took out the incense sticks she’d made before her journey with crushed flowers and sage and basil leaves. The scent reminded her of home, of beautiful, warm memories of love and affection before it disappeared. Breathing it in, she lit up two of them and slipped them in their wooden holder. Placing them in the corner where she’d seen the light flicker twice, she took out two unscented homemade candles. Lighting them up, she placed them beside the incense stick holder and closed her eyes.

She murmured the quick prayer as she had every night since she could remember, folding her hands together and bowing her head. She felt the love fill her heart as it always did when she did her little ritual, an anchor in a place anew, a way for her to feel closer to her mama.  

“You believe in spirits?” her roommate asked her after a few minutes when she was done.

Corvina shrugged. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I believe more in energies,” Corvina told her.

“Yeah, I can understand that. My foster father…”

Corvina let Jade talk about her foster family as she went back to the bed to clear away the items, only to suddenly stop. One single card from her deck was upturned on her sheets, a card she didn’t remember pulling, a card she didn’t even remember touching.

The Death card.

**

The castle groaned at night. It was eerie.

Despite being completely and utterly exhausted after coming from dinner, Corvina couldn’t fall asleep and she really, really wanted to. She didn’t know if it was being in a new bed or sharing her room with someone or just the sounds of the wind whistling outside her window and the tower settling, it just kept her up.

Jade had fallen into bed almost immediately after their return from dinner. She snored away as Corvina stared up at the wooden beams on the ceiling, the shadows dancing over them in a morbidly beautiful kind of way.

She watched that shadows play, and suddenly, something else joined the sounds of the wind and the castle.

A haunting melody.

Corvina blinked her eyes, taking in the unfamiliar bedroom, taking a moment to realize how different it was from her old cottage, taking in the darkness around her. She turned her bedside lamp on, her eyes drifting over to her roommate fast asleep, curled in the blanket the university had provided them. The clock beside her told her it was two hours past midnight.

The melody continued. Haunting. Eerie. Ethereal.

Corvina turned the lights off, deciding to try and sleep. She’d been bone-tired by the time they’d been done with dinner in the huge dining hall, so much so that she’d barely changed into her nightgown before crashing on the bed.

But something had kept her from her slumber. She didn’t know what it was but it tugged at her heart, pulling her towards the music, the tug so acute it left her breathless. Was this what sailors had felt in ages past when sirens called?

Gritting her teeth, she lay down before immediately getting up again. She was meant to listen to this music. There was a reason for it. The last time she’d felt this breathless tug had been right before her mama had been taken away, a longing deep-rooted in her heart. This was, for some reason, important enough and she couldn’t ignore it.

The melody continued to drift to her as she slipped into her flats by the bed. Without a flashlight to take, she walked to the dresser she shared with Jade and stuck a candle in the candelabra she’d kept there. Lighting it up, she blew on the matchstick and headed to the door.

Jade had told her there weren’t any restrictions per se at night but usually, nobody left their rooms. She had made a funny face when informing her about it, but Corvina had been too exhausted for further conversation. She wouldn’t have left her room either, had it not been for that melody. Not because she was scared of the dark or anything that lurked within it; simply because she was drained.

Cracking the door open, she looked out into the dark of the hallway. Her room was on the second level of the tower, along with eight other rooms, all of which were silent. One lone light hung on the side close to the staircase, leaving the rest of the hallway in the dark.

Corvina looked down at her white, half-sleeved nightgown and wondered if she should change. She’d always worn gowns at night, and skirts and dresses during the day. Her loose pair of pants had been a new addition to her wardrobe only for travel purposes.

To hell with it.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. A chilly breeze lifted the strands of her loose, long hair, wrapping itself around her as the volume of the music became louder. Following the trail of sound, she walked on quiet footsteps in the candlelight to the stairs, realizing the sound was coming from above.

Gathering her gown in her free hand, she slowly climbed the stairs, the music getting louder and louder with each level she ascended, her breaths heaving at the consistent climb. How was nobody else waking up at the music? Were they so used to it? Or couldn’t they hear it at all? Was it inside her head?

One level.

Two levels.

Three levels.

Four.

Five.

The stone stairwell ended, shrouded in darkness looming inside the castle, and a metal spiral staircase began. She went up. 

Six levels.  

She counted as she went up higher and higher until she reached the top of the tower. The small window on the staircase wall showed her the little half-moon out in the sky and the endless darkness under the castle. The music came from right behind the heavy wooden door in front of her. It was some kind of an attic at the top of the tower. The door wasn’t fully closed.

Climbing the last few stairs, she hesitated, not wanting whoever was on the other side to know she was there and stop their music. Biting her lip, she silently tiptoed to the side where the door was cracked and peeked inside.

A boy, no, a man, sat in front of a big, dark wooden piano, only his side profile visible to her. Pushing her candle behind the door to cloak herself in the shadows, she watched him from the side in the moonlight.

He was sitting in the semi-darkness, dressed all in black, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up his forearms, his eyes closed as he bent forward, the line of his jaw chiseled square and shadowed with hair, a lock of his dark hair falling forward.

He was… magnificent.

Beautiful in the way pain was beautiful, because it tugged at the chest and made something visceral come alive in the stomach and caused blood to simmer in the veins. Enchanting in the way she imagined dark magic was, because it twisted the air around it and warped the mind and overpowered the senses. Haunting in the way only very few living things could be, because it sent a shiver down the spine and cloaked itself in the darkness and fed on the energy around them.

Corvina watched, enthralled, as his fingers flew over the keys without his eyes opening once, a haunting melody of anguish floating out between them, connecting them in their lament.

He existed somewhere between the black and white when he played; and she wanted to exist in that subspace with them in that moment, see what he saw, hear what he heard, feel what he felt. Something inside her clenched, unfurled, clenched again, as she watched him, the desire to touch him and see if he was real making her palms itch. He had to be real. She couldn’t be imagining him. Could she?   

The music cut of abruptly as his eyes flashed open.

Corvina stepped behind the door quickly, her heart thudding in her chest.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The sudden silence felt heavier in the night than it should have. She could feel it pressing into her neck, right where her pulse fluttered, on her chest where her heart beat in a rapid rhythm, on her hand that shook as she fisted her nightgown.

The silence lengthened and she knew, just knew, that he was watching the door and the staircase. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. And she had to stand there and hide until the pressure of his gaze lifted. Whoever he was, he had intensity unlike any she had encountered before.

“Whoever the fuck you are, walk off right now,” a masculine voice called out the command.

His voice.

Deep, gravel baritones. There was something dulcet but rich about it, heady, textured.

Corvina considered his words and realized there wasn’t any point in hiding. He already knew she was there. It was best that she simply went back down.

Inhaling deeply, she gathered her gown in the hand that had been fisting it, and headed to the stairs, lifting the candle to light the way.

“Jesus,” she heard him curse but didn’t turn. She must have looked a ghostly sight with her white gown and long raven hair and the candlestick in her hand. Without stopping, she descended the way she had come and quickly went down, her heart beating in tandem with her footsteps, this time loudly on the spiral staircase, her gown and loose hair flowing behind her, probably making her look like a mad woman. What a first day it was turning out to be.

She felt his eyes on her from the top of the staircase and she hesitated, giving in to the temptation to look at his face just once, lest she never see him again. Glancing up at him from a level below, she watched as his eyes, light eyes the color of which she couldn’t tell, connected with hers. The fabric of her gown twisted in her fist as her pulse skittered, watching him watching her.

Corvina swallowed, wanting to tell him that she hadn’t meant to disturb him, to tell him that he was possibly the most darkly beautiful man she had ever seen, that he played like he had been cursed to play for his life. She wanted to tell him all of those things but she said none.

And then she saw it – a bold streak of white that ran through his hair from the front, disappearing to the back.

Realization dawning upon her, she broke free from his gaze and ran down the stairs, keeping a rapid pace all the way to her room, determined to put the encounter out of her mind.

Because the light eyes and the streak of white hair only meant one thing – she’d just encountered the silver-eyed devil of Verenmore.