The night air in Blackridge was heavy, almost suffocating. It wasn't the weather—it was the weight of the place itself, a quiet pressure that seemed to cling to the air like an invisible mist. The kind of silence that wasn't peaceful but expectant, like the calm before a storm. I found myself walking aimlessly through the campus, my thoughts swirling around the corpse we'd found earlier.
The image of the body refused to leave my mind, not because it disturbed me—but because of the way it didn't. Where others might have felt fear or nausea, I felt... nothing. No, that wasn't true. It wasn't nothing. It was something far worse.
It was hunger.
The Echo had stirred the moment I'd seen the blood, whispering things I didn't want to hear, tempting me with promises I refused to acknowledge.
"You can't fight me forever," it hissed. Its voice was smooth, persuasive, curling in the back of my mind like smoke. *"You don't even want to fight me. Not really. You crave it, Noah. You always have."*
I clenched my fists as I walked, trying to shut it out. The Echo wasn't me. It was a parasite, feeding on my weakness, preying on the darker parts of myself that I wanted to bury. But doesn't that just make the echo a part of me I don't want to accept yet? And Blackridge didn't make it easy. This place—this nightmare of a school—seemed designed to bring out the worst in people.
And maybe that's why I was here. But still I don't know enough yet, there is something I'm missing, something really important.
I exhaled sharply, forcing the thoughts away as I turned a corner into a quieter part of campus. The cobblestone path stretched out before me, illuminated by the faint glow of a distant lamp that stretched my shadow long across the stones. The air was colder here, sharp against my skin, and the stillness of the night pressed heavy on my thoughts. That's when I saw him.
A boy, our age, standing in the middle of a small group.
I didn't recognize him—then again, I barely recognized anyone at Blackridge yet. But something about him caught my attention immediately. He stood taller than the rest, not physically, but in the way he carried himself. His posture radiated arrogance, his head tilted back just enough to make it clear he thought himself above everyone around him. The smirk on his face wasn't just confident; it was cruel.
The group surrounding him consisted of two boys and two girls. They looked like classmates—ordinary enough, except for the way they acted. They weren't just standing with him. They were standing beneath him.
One of the boys, a wiry kid with messy brown hair and nervous hands, fumbled with his backpack, pulling out a thick wad of cash. He held it out, his arm stiff, his head lowered slightly, as though he didn't even dare to meet the other boy's gaze.
The arrogant boy didn't take the money. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like the whole thing amused him. "What am I supposed to do with that, Harper?"
The boy—Harper—looked up, confused. "I thought… I thought this would be enough—"
"Enough?" the taller boy cut him off, his voice laced with mockery. "You think you can buy me off like I'm some common thug? Do better."
"I-I can get more," Harper stammered, his face flushed with embarrassment.
"You'd better," the arrogant boy replied. His tone wasn't threatening, but it carried weight, a subtle menace that didn't need to be said out loud.
One of the girls, a blonde with a sharp jawline and an even sharper smirk, chimed in. "See? This is why you'll never move up, Harper. You think too small."
The taller boy chuckled, glancing at her. "She's right, you know. Harper, you've got potential, but if you keep acting like this? You'll stay at the bottom."
Harper nodded quickly, stuffing the cash back into his bag. "I'll do better next time, I swear."
Another boy in the group, tall and lanky with a perpetual scowl, stepped forward, pulling a small USB drive from his pocket. He didn't say a word, just held it out.
The leader's smirk widened as he took it, holding it up to the light. "Now this," he said, his voice soft and satisfied, "this is what I'm talking about. Efficiency. Precision. You've earned yourself another week."
The lanky boy nodded, his expression unreadable.
I lingered in the shadows, listening, piecing together what I was seeing. The leader wasn't just bossing them around—this was a transaction. A system.
"I don't want excuses next time," the leader said, turning his attention back to Harper. "I want results. Understand?"
"Yes," Harper said quickly.
The blonde girl laughed, her voice light and almost musical, though the sound rang hollow. "You're lucky he's even giving you another chance."
The leader smiled at her, pleased. "Exactly. Harper, take notes from her. She gets it."
It was clear now. This wasn't a group of friends or even a clique. This was something more calculated. The leader held power over them—not through fear of violence, but through something more subtle. Influence. Control.
I didn't know how he'd built that power, but I could see the effects. The others deferred to him like it was natural, like he deserved it. And he carried himself like someone who knew it.
I stayed a little longer, watching, until the group began to disperse. The leader turned, his smirk still in place as he walked away alone, the others trailing off in different directions.
I didn't follow. It wasn't my problem. Not yet.
But as I turned away, heading for the vending machine nearby, a thought lingered in the back of my mind.
A hierarchy. That had to be it. Blackridge wasn't just violent—it was structured. There was a system here, one that wasn't written down but was just as real as the bricks beneath my feet. And this boy, whoever he was, had found his way to the top of it.
I made my way to one of the vending machines near the dorms, the sight of it offering a brief reprieve from my thoughts. I needed something to ground me, something simple. My fingers hovered over the buttons before pressing the familiar code: Coke. The can clattered into the slot, and I cracked it open, savoring the hiss of carbonation. The first sip was sweet, sharp, and exactly what I needed.
"Coke, huh? Didn't peg you for a sweet tooth."
I turned to see Leila leaning casually against the vending machine, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"Leila," I said, my voice even.
"You remembered," she said, her tone teasing. "I'm flattered."
I took another sip, not bothering to respond.
"So," she continued, stepping closer, "what's is a boy as hot as you doing outside by this time? Thinking deep thoughts? Or just enjoying the nightlife?"
"Walking," I said simply.
"Walking," she repeated, her smile widening. "Walking, drinking Coke... and brooding. You've got the whole tortured-soul thing down, you know. It's kind of hot."
Her words were bold, but her tone was light, almost playful. She stepped closer again, her hazel eyes locking onto mine. I didn't move, didn't react.
"You know," she said, her voice dropping slightly, "a guy like you could have his pick around here. Blackridge is full of people who'd do anything for a chance to get close to someone like you."
"I'm not good with girls," I said, my tone flat.
She raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering just slightly before she recovered. "You don't even know what I'm offering."
"Doesn't matter" I replied, finishing my drink and tossing the can into a nearby bin.
Her laughter was soft, almost incredulous. "You're a tough one to crack, Noah. I like that. Makes it more fun."
I didn't respond, brushing past her as I walked away. She didn't follow, but her gaze lingered.
The next day passed in a blur of meaningless classes and whispered conversations. I kept to myself, letting the noise of the school fade into the background as I focused on my own thoughts.
When the final bell rang, I stood, waiting for the room to clear before making my way to the door. My eyes scanned the hallways, searching for one face.
Elise.
I spotted her near the lockers, her expression as soft as ever. For once, she was alone.
I approached her, my footsteps deliberate, and stopped a few feet away.
"Elise," I said.
She looked up, her eyes meeting mine.
"Are you free?" I asked. "We need to talk."