𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 | 𝐃𝐌

FOURTEEN

ꜱᴘᴏᴛɪꜰʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʙɪᴏ

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D A V I N A

Harrington  walked us to the place called The Tower and although I didn't know what The Tower was, I didn't fail to notice how thick and intense the at had become. Harrington walked ahead with a cool swagger which was strange because he looked about a hundred. His back was still straight and his gray hair was still fluffy and full of life atop his head.

Montague walked a step ahead of me and Draco walked behind me, and despite the careless swagger in his step, even he seemed tense. Rigid. On edge.

Strange, I thought this all was because I had not even a sparkle of care inside me. Whatever this place was, it doesn't kill you and I'm already living with a broken mind so I'm not afraid of being traumatized. God, I almost laughed at the thought. I wondered if there was anything that would be able to traumatize me. I've walked through hell, I've sat by the hellfire and dangled my feet in dark, dark places. I've had many versions of The Devil take their turn destroying me, breaking me and taking my innocence away piece by piece.

Slowly, the halls became quieter and the castle felt colder. . . darker, but still, that weary numbness weighed over me. The heavy footsteps of Draco became closer and I looked over my shoulder and met his gaze. I kept my face stern as I tried to figure out what he was thinking. God, he always looks so angry, like a feral beast who should be kept on a leash. I looked away first with a sigh.

Harrington reached a dark wooden door, almost black, like some wicked ancient thing where cults would gather. Harrington pulled out a chain of keys, about a dozen dangling from a metal ring. He selected a long black key and it looked just as evil and archaic as the door. As he unlocked the door, he met my gaze, something like sorrow and guilt swimming about in his old eyes. My brows narrowed, and I wondered why he decided to look at me that way.

Then, the door was pushed open and it revealed nothing but golden darkness and it looked like it descended down and down. Harrington stepped in and said, "Malfoy, close the door after you."and then he was gone and Montague followed, disappearing down into the darkness.

I stepped forward, breathed in through my nose and sighed quietly, "Is this his sex dungeon or something?"

A deep chuckle came from behind me as the darkness greeted me and golden lanterns flickered above me.

"Do you make jokes when you're scared?" Draco asked from behind me as I walked down the spiral set of stairs. His deep whispering voice sent chills slithering up the arch of my back.

I laughed quietly, "I'm not scared."

"You should be," he said as we walked into an open area. A long corridor, almost like a cave with no windows or sunlight. Nothing but cold darkness, lit by those hanging lanterns.

Harrington and Montague walked ahead and Draco and I followed a few steps behind.

"Do the school inspectors know about this?" I asked.

A scoff as Draco said, "Definitely not."

This time, he walked at my side and I almost felt empowered just walking next to him. It was so strange but I liked the feeling. I looked down and saw his hand, the hand with all those white-lined scars.

"Am I going to have matching scars after this?" I found myself asking, my voice echoing against the caved walls but only loud enough for him to hear my daring question.

He looked down at my hand I was holding out in front of me. My hands where imperfections, flawless, despite all the horrible things they have done, have held—

I looked up at him looking at my hand and watched his jaw clench, then watched his eyes meet my own, "yes." was all he said and my blood turned cold.

I looked away, hoping he didn't see the flash of fear in my eyes. Ahead of me Montague and Harrington stood facing each other in front of another large, dark door.

"You will go up first," Harrington said to him and then turned his head and looked at Draco and me. We came to a halt a few feet away, "Then Davina and Draco will go up."

Montague turned to Draco and me, a devilish smirk on his lips but fear-wetting his dark eyes as he said, trying to sound jokingly, "See you in twenty."

Harrington gripped his shoulder and shoved him forward, "Go. They're waiting."

Montague then opened the door and walked up the stairs. Draco moved to an old wooden bench on the right side of the dark hallway and I did the same, but on the opposite side of the hallway, I felt like I should be stopping him—because this was wrong, no school should be torturing their students, scaring them—but instead I watched him disappear behind the door and walk up the stairs. It made me want to die from the guilt and fear I felt for the dickhead of a boy—

"What do you mean they're waiting?" Draco's voice but through my thoughts, "There's more of them?"

"Four in total this year," was all Harrington said.

I looked between the two males, Harrington who was stiff and still and Draco who was shaking his head, "So am I going to be informed on what's about to happen to me?" I asked, trying to sound fearless and careless.

"It is tradition, on students' first time visiting the tower, that they go up unaware," Harrington said like he was reading from some guide, ". . .to encourage their fear."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered under a laugh.

"This is not something you want to be laughing at, Davina," Harrington said, no amusement on his features.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, "I just can't believe you are torturing your students. . . this certainly is a school for psychos—"

I really should shut my mouth because of the way Harrington is looking at me. . . It's like looking up at The Devil. Something pure evil. I thought back to the night in the showers when that masked man came in and threatened me. Was it Harrington? The school killer is the headmaster, wow that certainly be one for the papers—

"You misbehaved," Harrington said sternly, almost like he was bored, I wondered how many times a day he had to do this, "therefore, you will be punished."

I was about to argue that I did nothing but chose to just stay quiet. The silence of the cave-like hallway surrounded us. Nothing but echoing taps of water, dripping into puddles and muffled wind coming from the cracks above us—

And then the silence was broken by a manly roar of a scream. My head whipped to the opened door and the dark descending stairs just as another scream tore through the cave.

What in hell are they doing up there?

Fear has become a foreign thing in my life, but right now, I'm starting to feel it luring.

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Copyright © Kirsten Enn

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