Page 19 of Satanic Shadow

He doesn’t follow me into the changing rooms, or when I march past him to my room.

This is the only time we’ve conversed properly, and it’s him interrupting a teacher flirting with me.

By the time Friday comes, I’m excited to have some peace, but when I get to my dorm after class, a checklist is sitting on my bed.

Ten assignments for our human relations class. Not one or two, to break us into the strange and new set-up of a mixture of sexual and emotional tasks.

Ten.

And the first one needs to be completed by Monday morning.

I sigh and drop down on my bed, pulling out my phone and opening our messages.

Dane Dalton is an asshole, and quite frankly, I’d like to avoid him in every way. Then I can focus on passing and getting the hell off this island, but unfortunately it seems he’s going to be key to making that happen.

Me: Did you get the list?

An hour later, he replies. A small miracle. Maybe Orsen helped him.

Dane: List?

Me: You take too long to reply. It’s like texting a ninety-year-old grandpa. Come to my room. Easier to talk, it seems.

There’s a knock at my door the second after I press send.

I open the door an inch. “You’re fast.”

He looks bored. “Speed is one of my powers. What list?”

“Yet it takes you an hour to type one word.”

I let him in, ignoring the silhouettes around the room dancing and becoming excited in his presence.

“This,” I say, handing him the scroll. “It’s for our human relations class.”

He grimaces as he starts to read the first one then stops. “Task one is due on Monday morning.”

“I know,” I reply, snatching the list and reading it aloud. “Ask your partner five questions to get to know them. You cannot lie or skip. The task will be recorded automatically and sent to me.”

“I don’t want to know anything about you,” he kindly tells me. “You’re as boring as any human.”

I’m pretty sure I’m the only human he knows, which makes that statement invalid.

“Great, then this will be quick. Ask me something.”

He huffs, hands gripping the frame at the foot of my bed. The wood cracks under his grip, and I shouldn’t be concentrating on his fingers flexing around it. But I’m staring.

“I can’t stand you,” he says. “And being forced to be around you makes me sick.”

“Then quit. Go back to your own realm and stay there.”

He waves me off. “It isn’t that easy, or I would.”

I guess I’ll start off task one. “My first question…” I flap the list above my head. “What realm are you from?”

“The Shadow Realm.”

I tilt my head. “There isn’t a Shadow Realm.”