Pretty Misfortunes (Cruel Boys of Raven Oak Prep #2)

~Chapter VIII~

~Makoto~

THE TIME FOR THE IMPOSSIBLE CAME AS RAVEN OAK PREP opened its doors to me. Taking in the grand building staring down at me I couldn't help but feel small walking inside. Towering pillars forged from beautiful marble stones and masterful paintings scripted across a dome full of arches leading to staircases. Alcoves hid in between the walls which I followed, blending easily into the crowd of students wearing the same patterned uniform as me.

I was an official student of the elite. I didn't know yet if that was a good thing, but I wasn't here to make friends. I had one target to engage and convince her precious Sparrows were not as faithful as she wanted to believe. I'd leave this place behind. Never to look back.

Firstly, I needed to find the Administrative Office.

I sighed down at the mediocre map given to me during Orientation last week. Sadly, the Sparrows had not been there for me to observe, but there was always time.

"Need help?"

I tore my eyes from the paper and my gaze collided with a pair of baby blues.

The boy was tiny in size, but thin in mass which made him seem a bit taller than his age. He was undoubtedly around ten or eleven. His blonde hair curled at the ears and child-like baby fat on his cheeks that made him appear harmless at first sight. A thick book was carried in one small hand, and the other clung to the strap of his backpack. The zipper flipped loose where supplies spilled along the floor.

I raised a brow at him. "You look like you need the help more than I do."

He took in the mess surrounding his feet.

"Oh." He smiled warmly up at me. "It was an accident. I may have bumped into someone on the way from the library. I guess I forgot to close the zipper."

The boy had a soft accent.

He was a terrible liar. I could sense the slight catch in his voice as he started gathering the contents that "spilled out" of his backpack. The urge to offer him a hug for comfort was almost hard to resist, but I contained myself and instead dropped on one knee to help. He thanked me.

Standing up I scooped the last of his books and caught the title of one that took me by surprise. "Jack The Ripper, huh?"

He watched me anxiously. "Are you a fan?"

I wasn't. But I did know of the man and the many conspiracy theories about his whereabouts since his sudden disappearance after several gruesome murders back in 1888. He was one of a few serial killers who escaped the law.

"I know of him," I opted, rather than lie to the boy about my lack of information. Something told me this kid was easily disappointed in life. "Read about the murders in a class at my old school. Did a research report on the sadistic man."

"Really?" The boy's eyes lit up.

A strange one, he was.

I had to ask. "Why the creepy fascination with a murdering psychopath? You seem a bit too young to be reading about a man who cut up prostitutes."

He blushed.

It was adorable to watch.

I put my hands up in a non offensive manner. "No judgement here, little man. Just curious."