Keisha stood in the lobby of the staff building, eagerly waiting to be called up to Mr. Samuel's office.
Looking down at the 'Detective Club' poster in her hand, she smiled proudly. She'd spent all night working on it as she wanted it to be perfect. If Mr. Samuel approved of her establishing a new club, her work of art would be distributed all over campus.
Perhaps maybe she should've started an art club instead?
Chuckling at her thoughts, she looked up to find the receptionist signaling her. "You can go up now, sweetie. The dean is ready for you."
Keisha smiled brightly and thanked the woman, grateful that she wasn't rude like the clerk she met on her first day. Proceeding up the flight of stairs, she soon stood before the familiar double doors of Mr. Samuel's office. She knocked gingerly and awaited a reply.
"Come in."
Pushing the door open, she walked into the office and bowed in greeting. "Good day, Mr. Samuel."
"Keisha," the man smiled brightly as he motioned for her to sit, "what a pleasant surprise! How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, Sir. How are you?"
He let out a tired sigh. "I'm as good as a stressed counsellor could be."
"Sorry about that. I guess a lot of students need counselling these days."
"No, not really. It's just a few stubborn eggs that refuse to crack. Perhaps I should consider cooking them hardboiled."
A snicker escaped Keisha's lips at the joke and the dean smiled. "So, what brings you to my office, Keisha? Any trouble?"
"No, Sir," she shook her head enthusiastically. "I came to ask permission to do something."
"Permission? What for?"
Letting out a nervous breath, Keisha gave a sheepish grin. "I would like to start a club."
"A club?"
Mr. Samuel's questioning gaze made her squirm in her seat, and she suddenly felt unsure. "Er- Yes, Sir, a club."
"The school already has quite a few clubs, Keisha. Why don't you just join one of those?"
"I know, Sir. But I have no interest in any of those clubs. No offense to whoever founded them, but they are pretty boring."
"Boring? What's boring about a Renaissance art club?"
Keisha raised a brow, her expression deadpan. Realizing the irony in his statement, the dean scratched his head awkwardly.
"Okay, I see your point."
Smiling in victory, she clasped her hands together. "So can I start my own club, Sir?"
"I don't know, Keisha. We're already a week into the semester."
Pouting her lips and puffing her cheeks, Keisha put on her best puppy face. "Oh, please Mr. Samuel?"
"I don't think it's a smart idea."
"Please, Sir?"
"I'm sorry, but- "
"Pretty please? With ice-cream on top?"
The dean sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. Looking up at Keisha who was waiting expectantly with a pouty expression, he sighed again.
"Why do you want to start a club so bad anyway?"
It was Keisha's turn to sigh as she slumped her shoulders defeatedly. "It's personal. I don't want to share."
"Well, if you can't share, I can't see any reason why I should agree to this."
"Fine," she conceded. "I'll talk."
The dean leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his desk. "I'm listening."
Suddenly feeling awkward, Keisha groaned at the thought of having to share her pathetic reason with the dean. She was probably going to make herself look stupid, but she really wanted to start this club.
How else was she going to expand her social circle?
Swallowing her pride, she proceeded to explain her situation.
"You see, Sir, I'm not very good at making friends. Through out my time in high school, I was a shy nerd. Because I was so timid, people would pick on me all the time. I had nobody to turn to because everyone avoided me like a plague and I wasn't brave enough to stand up for myself. It was horrible"
She shuddered at the memory of her high school, her stomach bundling up in knots. "When I graduated, I realized that I had no good experiences to remember or friends to keep in touch with. I felt like a freak who had missed out on life. But I didn't want that to be all I'd ever be. So, I swore that I'd make up for lost time here in college."
She paused to look up at Mr. Samuel who was listening keenly, his dark brown eyes glistening.
"I'm new to this whole socializing thing, and it's not easy. I just thought maybe if I could do something special, people would notice me. If I could just show them that I have something to offer, they'd like me. And maybe I'd finally fit in."
Her voice faltered at that last part, tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn't expected she'd cry from sharing her story, but something about saying it out loud made her feel emotional.
She was so used to keeping her feelings bottled up because she knew nobody cared to listen, but she felt like a weight had been lifted. It felt good to get it off her chest and share what she felt with another person, even though he was only a counsellor whose job was to listen.
And as pathetic as she felt for sharing her story with someone as good as a stranger, she didn't regret it.
Wiping her eyes, she cast a glance at the dean who just watched her silently. "So please, Sir, I'd appreciate it if you could do this for me."
Mr. Samuel leaned back in his chair, averting his gaze from the student. An awkward silence fell between them as he swiveled gently in his chair.
After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke up. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Keisha. I can see it's very close to your heart."
He sighed deeply before continuing, getting up out of his chair and leaning against the desk. "You can start your-" he glanced down at the poster in her hands, "-Detective Club. And as a founding gift, I'll assign a classroom you can use whenever you like."
Keisha's eyes widened in shock; her expression dumbstruck. "Really?"
Mr. Samuel nodded at her, shooting her a reassuring smile. Overjoyed, Keisha leapt out of her chair and threw her arms around him.
"Thank you! Thank you so much, Sir!" she gushed, squeezing him tight. "This means so much to me!"
Shocked by her actions, Mr. Samuel stood frozen in her embrace, feeling her tiny body pressed against his. He could feel and hear her heartbeat, thudding loudly in her chest. A sudden urge to feed came over him and the scent of her warm blood pulsing through her veins set him on edge.
He could feel the familiar sensation of his fangs slipping out.
Suddenly realizing how inappropriate she was being, Keisha shot away from the dean. She gasped at her recklessness as her hands covered her mouth in shock. Stepping back, she bowed feeling embarrassed at her actions.
"I'm so sorry, Sir! I don't know what came over me."
Her apology was met with silence and Keisha looked up in shame. The sight she was greeted with knocked all breath out of her and she let out a gasp.
There Mr. Samuel stood, perfectly still, his eyes glowing an unnatural golden hue. Gone was his kind gaze, and in its stead was a cold and calculating one. Keisha gulped as he gingerly took a step toward her, causing her to take a backward step of her own.
Chills ran down her spine as she realized his skin had turned ghostly pale, contrasting with his eyes the shone with something sinister. Though she was certain it was the friendly dean standing before her, she felt like she was looking into the face of a stranger.
No, she was looking into the face of a blood-thirsty monster.
"Sir?" she called out, her voice shaking in fear. "Mr. Samuel?"
He didn't respond, instead looking into her eyes as he took another predatory step forward. Keisha willed herself to move away, but her body suddenly felt heavy.
What the hell?
She tried to scream, but only a lowly whimper escaped her throat. Fear gripped her as she watched him slowly close the distance between them.
Was she going to die?
The office door suddenly swung open and Mr. Samuel flew back from her. As if by magic, his eyes and skin had returned to their original hue, although he still looked unsettled.
"You called, Bowers?"
The deep voice of the intruder echoed loudly in the room, startling both Keisha and the dean.
Suddenly regaining control of her body, Keisha's survival instinct kicked in. She immediately dashed out of the room, not even bothering to look up at the person who just unknowingly saved her as she ran past him.
"Keisha, wait!" Mr. Samuel called out, but the freshman was long gone. The dean groaned in frustration, knowing he had just made a costly mistake.
What the hell was he going to do now?
"Did I miss something?"
Mr. Samuel looked up to see who had interrupted him and unintentionally saved Keisha. A frown settled on his face as his eyes fell on the tall figure leisurely chewing gum in his doorway.
The Prince of Hell himself – Luka Haydes.