The Bloodied Scriptures

Chapter 2: the Duke's cold soul

Call me a night owl or whatever, I hated the daytime. That's when everything was chaotic and loud. People swarmed the halls, and the sun was so bright, it burned my eyes.

I was probably one of the oldest students in my class. It took me years to be able to afford the degree by finding connections to some nobles I ended up being related to, and now I'm 24 years old a second year. Everyone in my class was about 19 years old, so I didn't talk to anyone. Not that I could even get the courage to.

The bell rang and I slowly walked out of the classroom and heard a voice call to me.

"Heli, come here for a second."

Mr. Lyre smiled and lowered his glasses as I stopped in front of him. He swiped his white curled hair out his face and faced me with a determined look on his face. I tilted my head to the side, a puzzled look on my face.

"Must be difficult to see all these younger students in the class, huh?"
"Er, I guess, sir."
"Call me Lyre. Please, take a seat," he said, "You're the best student I've seen in a long time. What concerns me is your health."
"Why is that, sir? I mean, Lyre."
"Last class, you fainted as you walked out the door, and you fell asleep in class multiple times."
"And?"
"Participation marks count for something, Heli. I know your marks are the only thing you care about, so I am telling you this. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"So, for the time being, I want you to also focus on your health."
"Okay."
"You are dismissed."

I walked out the door and grumbled. As if it were that easy! The young professor didn't understand, the jobs I had to work, and the homework I have to hold up. Why did he care anyway? It's not like I'm anything special.

The girls nearby scoffed as they stared at me.

"I'm so jealous, he got to see Mr. Lyre by himself."
"I know right? Who even is that guy? He looks so dirty."
"Yeah, I heard he's a third-class commoner who's a ghost. He was seen entering the haunted section of the school."

I'm not a ghost.

"That probably explains why he's so pale and colourless all the time, but he's an immigrant anyway."

I'm a mixed person, which you probably wouldn't understand. Nobody here will.

I looked their way and they squeaked and ran away. I rolled my eyes and walked towards my locker. I know I wear a ragged uniform that I have kept for every year I was at this school. I am alive and I'm not the person they make me up to be. Of course, I couldn't just explain all that.

I walked down the hall and covered my ears from the yells and overlapping chatter. The air was so suffocating, and I kept bumping into people in my way. The colours were distorted, and my head was throbbing.

"Watch where you're going!"
"Are you on something?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up. I arrived outside the school and gasped for breath. I could still hear the pine leaves brush against the wind. I breathed the fresh air and strolled down the street.

The palace of luxury and fame. I walked in to cover my eyes from the shining pure gold ornaments. The oversized furniture was placed near the blazing fire.

The mistress pulled me across the waxed floors, into the attic and pushed me into the room. Slamming the door, she tossed the key outside and closed the lock. I gagged at the stench of decaying food in large, wooden boxes. I slowly opened the box, the overripe fruits and their juices spilling out on me. I started to rub a sponge over the dusty floor, holding my breath.

I finished and wiped the sweat off my forehead. The door creaked open, and the duke stood there, his moustache hanging from the sides, and he stood there, his posture straight and distinguished.

"Hm, the walls need a little fixing."

He walked over to the walls and tapped on them. A squeak was heard, a little mouse peering out its red eyes. The duke screamed as an army of little critters fell out the walls. He grabbed me and slammed the door.

Twack. I was kicked to the ground. A hit turned into many, until finally, I fell to the ground. The pain was overbearing, but I didn't let one tear shed.

"Disgusting little rat."

He spat on the floor and pointed for me to clean it up. I wiped the floor clean and droned lifelessly to the exit.

At the dorms, I wiped my face with a towel after a well-earned bath. A liquid dripped from the distance that didn't come from the pipes. I followed the sound that led to my bed. Something smelled strong, almost familiar, and it wasn't good. I grabbed the notebook and opened it.

The drawing on the cover was yet again, me, lying on the floor, in a deep sleep. I turned the page and a message was scratched in red. "You." It reeked of fresh blood.

My breath shook as I slowly closed the book, knowing this was a threat. Why, why did this have to happen?! Whoever or whatever drew this surely wanted me dead. I threw the notebook, and ran across the hallway, huffing, not knowing what I was running from. I looked back and the hallways were empty. I caught my breath, and walked back, this time, passing my dorm.

It was the dumbest thing to do, and I knew he would be waiting for me there at this moment. The library is the only place my life is really. Maybe I would finally be able to get some peace, after the chaos. The chaos that happened every day, drove me insane while I kept a straight face. All I had to do was hide from him, and he'll eventually go away, right?

This chapter was a rollercoaster, woah. Remember to vote if you like! I'm now promoting my story on Pinterest, so check it out if you want!