Page 2 of A Touch of Darkness (Chronicles of the Cursed #1)
The monstrous castle sprawls before me, an absolutely breathtaking sight that seems to consume everything resting in its shadow. I’ve never, in my nineteen years, seen anything more enchanting or captivating. My eyes roam over the massive university perched on the steep hill, its silhouette looming in the distance like a forgotten, antiquated fortress. I can’t help but wonder about the ghosts that might linger within its walls. Nothing this old and beautiful can exist without bearing the weight of damaged souls, surely.
Towering spires and impeccable stone arches give the illusion that they are piercing the sky, challenging the heavens above. Ivy crawls up and down the ancient stone walls, wrapping and entangling them in a green embrace that seems somehow comforting. Gothic arches, intricate and weathered by centuries of storms, cast long, dramatic shadows over the cobblestone courtyard. Scattered leaves swirl about in the crisp, autumn wind, and deserted tables rest throughout the patio area, like the entire place is vacant, nothing more than a timeworn, abandoned building. I would’ve thought others would be milling about, nervously making their trek to their new home as well, but I’ve yet to see anyone else—other than my sister, Lara.
I’ve never seen a gargoyle in real life; at least, not until this very moment. Perched high atop the castle, their stone faces are frozen in an enigmatic, eternal watchfulness, their unblinking eyes following every movement below, despite their immovable forms.
If memory serves me right, these were probably put in place as some kind of distraction to guard the school. At least something will be watching over us, warding off potential evil spirits. Even if it is in the form of strange-looking cement creatures and nothing more than silly lore.
I breathe in the fresh air as we walk, noting how different and clean it feels in comparison to the dirty city air I’m used to. Things are already changing, already so different. Almost unrecognizable.
Maybe I will like it here.
“Sylv, holy shit,” Lara says, her voice breathless as we begin our ascent toward our new home away from home. I nod, still unable to form coherent words, too lost in the unbelievable scene before me. “How are we lucky enough to attend this university for the next four years, sis? We’re about to live in a whole-ass castle!” She practically squeals, squeezing my hand with the one not occupied by her suitcase as we drag our bags up the steep, seemingly endless hill.
“We’re probably two of the most unlucky people in the world,” I say with a nervous chuckle, briefly thinking of our parents before shoving those memories as far back into the recesses of my mind as humanly possible. Today should be a happy day. It’s going to be a happy day, and I refuse to let my brain ruin it. “I agree, though,” I add. “This place has some Instagram-worthy spots, and we haven’t even made it inside yet. We’re about to make all those bitches back in Chicago who are attending community college so jealous.” She giggles at that, and I grin, thinking about how the girls who made our lives hell for the past few years will never leave our hometown.
We’re here on academic scholarships, which is a bonus for us since it’s not like we have parents to help front the cost, although they did leave behind a decent sum of money for us. The prestigious school is expensive, but it was worth it to us to be here. In this place that holds so many memories for our parents. It’s the only way we can feel close to them now.
I glance up at the school to gauge how much farther we’ll be rolling these bulky bags, and that’s when I see him—a man in one of the windows. Up on the third story of the building. The moment our eyes meet, a deeply unsettling feeling washes over me, a sudden onset of intense heaviness, like someone is steadily, slowly tightening their grip around my throat. It’s suffocating, relentless. There’s something else. Something just beyond reach, a familiarity I can’t place. Something earthshattering, soul crushing…yet a sense of rightness that feels so incredibly unwarranted in comparison. I freeze, needing a moment to find my equilibrium that seems to have all but vanished. When I look up again, he’s gone. I didn’t get a good look at him—after all, we’re still a ways from the top of the hill—but the eerie, lingering sensation cloaks me, leaving an unnerving chill in its wake.
What was that? And why did it feel like life and death were warring against each other—wrapping around my entire body—the very second I saw him?
“You okay? You literally look like you just saw a ghost,” Lara says, her voice tinged with concern as she glances at me. I try to shrug it off, but the disturbing sensation is still clawing at my chest, leaving me off-kilter.
“Sylvie,” she presses, her tone soft but insistent.
I shake my head as we near the massive double doors of the entrance, forcing my legs to continue forward.
“I’m okay. It was weird. I saw a man in one of the windows and?—”
Lara stops abruptly, spinning to face me with wide eyes. “You saw a man in a window and acted like you had no breath in your lungs? Please tell me he was hot. Like…Jensen Ackles in Supernatural hot. Remember when Mom used to binge that show nonstop, and we’d get so sick of it? All we wanted was to watch our dumb reality dating shows. Jensen was the only good thing about that show.”
Her words hit me, warmth spreading through my body at the thought of our mother and her guilty pleasure TV show. We look at each other, somber smiles stretched across our faces as the memory settles between us. I nod. “How could I forget? Mom’s Supernatural obsession was on another level.”
Lara chuckles, and for a second, the discomfort lifts.
“Take a deep breath, Sylv. You saw a dude in a window. I know the whole vibe of this place is kinda creepy, but it’s so gorgeous! Think of all the memories we’re going to make here. We can tell our kids about it one day. About how their grandparents attended Blackthorne and then we did. Maybe they’ll go here, too! Don’t let the ghosty vibes freak you out on day one.” She playfully nudges my shoulder as we come to a stop in front of the towering doors.
“Now,” she says with a smirk. “You ready for the first day of the rest of our lives?”
I force a grin, pushing aside the residual tension from the man in the window. She’s probably right. It was just me being paranoid. Typical Sylvie.
“Lead the way, sis.”