A scream echoed from the dormitory hallway, a scream of distress and horror. Running towards the source out of instinct, Nicolas Noland, dorm supervisor of Isla Cruz College, rushed up the second floor stairs in a hurry. Cold sweat ran down his skin as he broke through the second floor exit and arrived at a large hallway of doors, at the far end of the hallway was a single girl, jet black hair flowing to her back. Frustration welled up within Nicolas as he made his way to the girl ready to blow a lung full of scolding words at her for being here. Girls were prohibited from entering the dorms during the night and at the moment it was five in the morning, far too early for a casual visit. Closing in on the girl and ready to question her did he take notice of her, the Asian girl who took no notice of his approach, her hands covering her face while tears streaming down her cheeks. Something had disturbed her that her eyes were ever locked at whatever was in the room; Nicolas hesitated for a moment but looked within the room and felt his stomach churn and his anger dissolved into disgust. In front of him was the body of a short haired brunette, his skin a ghastly white surrounded by a blanket of red.
Rushing inside, he checked the bodies pulse and sighed of relief, turning to the girl who still stood petrified. “Call an ambulance right away. He is still alive!” Nicolas answered, placing his fingers over the large gash on his right wrist. Looking to the girl again did he notice she still sat there in disbelief, “Don’t sit there! Call the fucking ambulance!”
Doing as she was told, the woman got up and hurried to the staff telephone on the first floor, leaving Nicolas to tend to the young man. He recognized the young man as Jonas Michael Alexander, one of the few people in this dormitory who did not give him a headache; even though he caused no trouble to others, Nicolas should have noticed the signs. This young man is on the brink of life and death because of his negligence. Brushing his short hair, Nicolas kept his grip on the wound. “Please… Stay alive.” He spoke out, attempting to keep hope alive, more for himself than the youth. Jonas would be unable to hear him, already in hypovolemic shock, his words were ignored.
When the ambulance came and took Jonas in the stretcher, Nicolas knew the situation was already out of Nicolas's hands; he could only pray for the best outcome.
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It had been five years for Jonas since his first and last suicide attempt. He managed to pull through from the brink of death even after all the blood he had lost. Even after he was released he was put on suicide watch for the duration of the year until his therapist was certain he would make no attempt a second time. His reasons were unknown to the therapist though and she put in her report mental instability rather than “No reason. I simply did it because I could.” For Jonas this was a truth and a lie as he himself did not know the reason for doing so. Every time he tried to remember it felt as if it wasn’t there, as if it never actually happened. It was probably minor brain damage from losing so much blood but in either case he did not make mention of it to anyone, not even his friends.
Jonas, now twenty six, lived by himself as a novelist and rarely left his home overlooking his hometown of Isla Cruz. His home was quite large and luxurious, a Japanese styled manor that was out of place in the American West Coast. Before he was born his father had the manor built to his tastes as he enjoyed Japanese architecture; to Jonas however it was merely a decorated prison he returned to on a daily basis. When his father died two years after being treated the house became his. Besides Paola, who tidied up the large house, it was a truly lonely place.
It was growing ever darker outside; a black veil covered the evening sun in an attempt to block its rays. Isla Cruz was unnatural that way; most of the year was a summer paradise sought out by tourists minus the days that it happened to be cloudy, which was rare. Most of the townsfolk preferred sunny days over cloudy and Jonas, who loved the gloom, only wished for the sun to never show up. His life was gloom and despair, his career as a writer a minor success. He had only published two books, both becoming cult hits in the gothic community, and most of his short stories were published in a few magazines which were considered unique to the reader. Jonas however was in a minor hiatus, focusing on a project his editor forced upon him, yet his patience was at its limits and he idly stared out onto the darkening sky, the sun retreating behind the pacific waters. He had the nagging desire to walk into the cool night and ignore his work but he resisted the temptation.
“Just keep focusing.” He lightly spoke to himself, gripping his pencil and began working on his recent project.
…The air was chilled, his throat suffocating as if an invisible hand attempted to strangle him. Something was wrong. The sight of a large stone castle stood before his vision, the cart nowhere to be found. An intimidating large wooden door kept him out of the stone fortress, torches lit as if to welcome him inside the oppressive fortress. He tried to open the door, pressing his hands firmly on the giant sized door and pushed with all he could, his muscles working to their limits but still the great door did not yield. The air grew colder and his instincts kept telling him to get inside.
He did not know why he had to get inside. His heart pounded ferociously as he pounded on the door, attempting to open it. Far behind him he could hear loud snaps and crackles in the distance, as if a giant were passing through the forest in his direction. Gripping the door he rammed the door with his elbow, fear causing him to panic. Each passing second the snaps became louder and louder, the noise becoming more audible as it got ever closer.
He panicked, howling out loud to let him in, his voice inaudible with the booming snaps and splintering of trees. Then, as if in desperation, he pushed the large wooden door with a greater force he did not think possible, pushing the door that he believed was cemented to the ground. His eyes tightly closed shut as he pushed into the entrance, the snaps ceased and his breath exhaled hot air. He shivered, still petrified with fear as a thought came into his mind.
"Welcome home… young master"
Rubbing his head, Jonas ceased the movement of his pencil and reviewed the few lines that drained his conviction. Heaving a sigh Jonas felt unsatisfied but knew he would gain nothing worrying over the final few lines, he’d have his editor worry over its quality for him. Turning his attention to the clock beside him as it marked ten minutes past nine Jonas simply got up from his desk and relaxed on the bed. Not having anything better to do, Jonas grew annoyed at the several minutes spent in silence and simply decided to head out. Turning off the glowing lamp on the desk and picking a jacket from the closet, Jonas walked out the door and locked the gate behind him, walking down the hill towards town.
The autumn wind cooled Jonas’s head. He rarely got a moments rest, even in the mornings he was not spared from his schedule, his editor nagging for the screenplay to be finished before the deadline. Jonas didn’t care, it wasn’t his work that was on the line but someone else’s; he hated getting these kinds of jobs and he preferred to do things on his own rather than have things pushed on him. The author was a gifted newcomer by the name of Priscilla Wright, who a few years back wrote a vampire romance series that became a major hit. She was a natural born talent who had extreme luck on her side, an ally every writer could only hope to have. It was a few months ago that he got a call from his editor and was told to do the project and Jonas denied it on the spot; his editor was furious with him yet knew there was nothing he could have done to say otherwise to change his mind. His decision would have remained so if he had not been greeted personally by the author herself.
He remembered answering the door that day and was greeted by a curvaceous figure dressed in dark clothing similar to those of a funeral. She simply smiled and asked to speak with him in which Jonas did not refuse. Priscilla explained her reason for coming in person, having been a fan of his first work “Dark Anemone” and for that reason requested that he do the screenplay for her book. Be it her silver tongued coercion or her straightforward attitude, Jonas accepted to work on the project willingly and gave his word to finish on time.
The wind began to pick up and the leaves rustled with greater intensity, the street lamps his personal guide down the hill. His ears began to ring slightly as he heard a light tapping in the distance, his eyes looking forward to see someone walking up in front of him. He paused underneath the lamp post, the light blinding him to the darkness as the figure grew taller. He made out a small figure with a large bulbous orb that he assumed to be parasol. The figure paused in the dark far off from the light but much more visible to his eyes, a little girl in black simply smiled from her shadowed area. Her figure was short and Jonas assessed that she was perhaps eight or perhaps at most fourteen, way past the neighborhood curfew for minors.
“It’s pretty dark out is it not?” he asked the girl only to get a light giggle in response.
“I was taking a nice stroll in the park.” She answered, with a childish accent that he assumed was British. She stepped closer towards Jonas and the details in her gown became much greater as black and white lace accentuated the design and gave an air of nobility; her attire was one of luxury and wonder that was indeed out of place in this modern world. He also took notice of her hair, long and black with blue henna dyed tips on her bangs; the only thing he could not see clearly was her eyes concealed behind the wall of light that surrounded Jonas.
“Do you live up here?” he asked curiously, referring to the other houses nearby. She however shook her head and pointed far to the left of the hill, to a European styled house a short distance away. That house had been there for a long time yet it showed no sign of activity that Jonas himself thought it was abandoned.
“I live up there with my brother, though right now he is asleep.” She smiled, her pale fingers glowing under the florescent light of the lamp.
“It isn’t safe for you to be walking alone.” Jonas answered, receiving yet another playful giggle from her. He questioned if this girl took him serious at all.
“Are you offering to protect me when we just met? For all I know you might be planning something.” She jested, twirling her parasol dexterously in between her right hand. Even for a joke it was uncalled for and Jonas did feel like a criminal.
“I did not mean it like that. I was just concerned.” He answered honestly. The parasol ceased to move and the girl simply looked onto him before extending her hand.
“Then would you accompany me home?” she asked curiously, waiting for a response.
Jonas was slightly surprised; not expecting such an answer so simple that his face betrayed his bashful nature. Giving a light cough to mask the blush, Jonas took her hand calmly. “Then I shall walk you home.” He answered, unable to look her in the face; for a little girl she knew how to pick on a man pride. Using his peripherals to look at the girl, he was captivated by her child like face, her smile warming his heart. The girl latched onto his arm, catching Jonas by surprise as he caught sight of her sapphire eyes before it escaped his gaze. Pushing away his antisocial and shy nature he began to walk towards her home who appeared to be a gothic newlywed couple.
“Have you recently moved here?” Jonas asked curiously and received a nod in response.
“I moved in about a month ago. Isla Cruz is such a nice place.” She smiled, walking at his pace with ease.
“The people here are quite nice as well.” Jonas answered, looking at the tiny girl and could not believe the maturity she displayed.
“I doubt I’ll ever see them.” She answered, giving a grim smile. “I have a skin disorder that makes me sensitive to light, so I cannot walk in the day.” She answered shyly. Jonas felt pity for the girl, being only able to walk out at night.
“I’m sorry to hear.” Jonas answered heartedly, feeling insensitive and kept quiet for a moment. In reaction the girl smiled and began tugging on his sleeve.
“Don’t be. I’m sure they are all nice people. Like the young boy I met earlier in the park. He was kind enough to play with me.” She answered with a gorgeous smile on her lips.
Jonas gave a nod and smiled. “Then I guess you’ve made two friends today.” He proudly answered. Just then, almost in reaction to his words, her grip became firmer on his arm. Jonas looked down and noticed her face contort in pain and instinctively stopped. “Are you alright? Was it something I said?”
Shaking her head in reaction, the girl simply swayed lightly like she had motion sickness. “I feel sick.” She spoke, kneeling down onto the ground weakly, too weak to even clutch the umbrella. Worried Jonas kneeled down and caught his eye at the church, still open even at this time of night.
“We can ask the father for some water. That’ll help you…” Jonas answered, cut off from her vigorous shaking and simply pulled him close with a strong grip, nearly making Jonas fall.
“Just… take me home fast please.” She simply demanded, her eyes shaking weakly near the area. Doing as she asks, Jonas picked her up on his back and retrieved her parasol before moving on towards her home. It did not occur to him until now, but this girl’s skin was unnaturally cold, along with her odd illness that currently afflicted her she would appear to be a normal young girl. Jonas simply ignored the oddities and kept going, his pace quickened from her present condition.
After fifteen minutes of walking the two arrived at their destination, a quaint old house certainly too large for a girl and her older brother; even though Jonas himself contradicted his own thoughts by living in a large manor alone. Pushing past the front gate Jonas immediately felt uneasy, his shoes clicking on the hard cobblestone path with each step and alerting something of his presence. This place was certainly beautiful and appealing to Jonas’s own tastes, yet something was wrong and an oppressive atmosphere was present throughout the house. No light emitted from the inside and the thick curtains cloaked the interior of the house. The atmosphere could only be described as haunted and the thought sent a chill down his spine.
“Quite the place you have.” Jonas answered, still holding the girl on his back. Lowering her down onto the ground, Jonas felt her hop off his back and land on the ground below safely.
“Thank you for taking me home good knight.” The girl teased, walking towards the house and turning towards him, bowing in a curtsy.
Jonas gave a slight chuckle and played along, kneeling down on one leg and bowing. “Glad to be of service. Might I have your name princess?” he answered, lifting his head up towards her for a response.
She stood silent for a moment, her eyes hinting hesitation for a mere second as she closed her umbrella before she smiled and placed her hands down on her skirt. “It’s Simma… My surname is embarrassing so settle for that.” She answered softly and reached her right hand out on top of his skull, stroking his head like a parent would a child. “It was fun to meet you, Jonas.” She smiled, retreating her arm and running off inside. With no longer needing a reason to stay Jonas turned his back on the home and made his way to the front gate and set his destination home. He did not want to overstay his welcome in a place as uneasy as this.
