MAIN CHARACTERS:
Clara Montgomery — teenage girl, highly intelligent, sarcastic, fascinated with dark mysteries, deeply religious yet skeptical of supernatural claims.
Ethan Hale — her close friend, anxious, comic relief, loyal, often hiding behind humor when scared.
Father Benedict — head of the academy, authoritative, secretive, a priest with knowledge of forbidden lore.
Sister Kaela — enigmatic teacher of history and scripture, rumored to know ancient rituals.
Evernight Academy itself — alive in subtle ways, hiding secrets, whispering through corridors, rooms, and portraits.
The black iron gates of Evernight Academy loomed in the mist like the jagged teeth of a long-forgotten beast.
Clara Montgomery adjusted the straps of her satchel, peering through the fog at the sprawling gothic architecture. Towers rose like skeletal fingers, windows blacked with grime, gargoyles glaring down with malevolent humor.
"It looks like someone prayed for children to fear churches," Clara muttered, gripping her cross necklace.
Ethan Hale swallowed, a nervous smile plastered on his face.
"Or… a school for the Devil's daycare?"
From the trees above, a crow cawed. Its eyes gleamed red under the dim moonlight.
The gates creaked open slowly, groaning like old wood in pain. It felt deliberate, as though the academy itself were welcoming them.
Inside, the air smelled of candle wax, damp stone, and something metallic — almost like iron blood. Students shuffled past them, pale, uniformed, whispering with quiet urgency. One boy's eyes were too bright, almost glowing in the shadows.
At the entrance hall stood Father Benedict, his robes flowing like a dark river. His eyes seemed to pierce through the fog.
"Welcome to Evernight Academy," he intoned.
"This school is not merely for learning. Here, your faith, courage, and secrets will all be tested. Be warned: curiosity has a price."
Clara raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Sounds like Sunday school if the preacher lost his mind," she whispered to Ethan.
As night fell, the academy revealed its first secret: whispers from corridors, soft but insistent, drifting through the stone halls. They didn't sound human. Yet they carried meaning.
Clara's heart thumped—not in fear, but in excitement.
This place had stories. And she intended to unravel them.