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high, with a pub-style wooden sign above the door which read, St. Elran’s.

Dreg was on the roof of the large house. He was actually sitting cross-legged on the tiles, idly smoking from a strange looking pipe, which emitted green smoke.

Bobby wondered if Dawnvel was really a renowned school for especially talented teenagers, or an actual nut house. That would certainly explain why he’d been given a place.

On the third day, the Perfects returned to class, acting like nothing had happened. No one dared ask them either.

Bobby had English Lit, his first lesson inside Dawnvel castle. Climbing the sandstone steps that snaked their way up the hill was a chore in itself.

Inside, the castle proved to be as old as its exterior. Cobwebs furnished every ceiling’s corner, but those ceilings were so high up the webs and mould weren’t immediately apparent. Thick carpets ran down the centre of many of the wooden corridors, like miniature Hollywood red carpets. Other passageways were bare wooden floorboards, causing every footfall to echo and bounce off the high walls. The walls were covered by oil paintings of long dead wealthy British people, all of them with inescapable gazes.

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The English classroom was like a mini library, its walls lined with leather-bound books. Bobby chose a seat at the back of the room, like he’d done for most of his classes, so less people would be looking at him.

Mr Witt wasn’t what Bobby expected. Most of the staff at Dawnvel were middle aged and older, many nearing retirement age. Mr Witt however, was a well-built man barely in his thirties, with curly hair and dressed in plain clothes as opposed to the stuffy suits other teachers wore. As the lesson commenced, Bobby learned Mr Witt’s teaching was also different. Instead of lecturing the class and having them take notes, Witt asked them about their favourite works of literature. Blissfully, Bobby wasn’t one of the students asked anything.

After the lesson, Bobby passed by the Perfect’s house once again. He realised the house wasn’t actually on the way to his dorm, but his feet had taken him there instinctively. He knew he shouldn’t be here, but he also believed the weird stuff going on at Dawnvel was linked with the Perfects. He even considered knocking on the door and telling them he’d seen Zander fighting that insane ghost creature. Maybe it would help them understand what had happened to Zander. Or maybe they already knew?

He walked closer and closer to the old house, his heart thumping in his chest.

He didn’t know what he was doing, but his curiosity was irrepressible. Fear spiked through him as he heard voices inside, but instead of running away like any normal person would’ve done, Bobby crept down on his hands and knees and crawled beneath the double windows. One window was open a crack.

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He fought against the urge to leave, but he needed to know more. Maybe once he’d heard the Perfects talking he’d understand it all better. Bobby couldn’t deny a part of him yearned to investigate the mystery of it all, just like the Byron brothers from Timbley High. But this isn’t a TV show, mate. This is real. His conscience almost made him change his mind and run, but then he overheard Simone. “No Maurice. I took care of it. I killed him a few days ago.”

Killed! She admitted it. Surely Simone was confessing to killing Zander? He went cold all over. If it wasn’t Zander, she’d still admitted to being a murderer.

“Niamh still hasn’t left her room. She’s inconsolable,” Mo said miserably.

“And Warren went out hunting last night and hasn’t come back since.”

“I told him to give it a rest for one night, but Warren says he knows Cairnath are behind this. I reckon he just wanted to let his anger out on them,” said a new voice. Bobby couldn’t be sure, but he thought it was Dreg. He didn’t dare stand up and peek through the window though.

“But there were clear signs of dark magic.” Simone insisted. “We both saw the…body, after those girls first found him. I only wish we could’ve examined Zander further to see exactly what-”

Examined him?” Mo interrupted. “Don’t treat Zander like just another one of our jobs. He was one of us.”

“I know, I didn’t mean too.” Simone replied. “He was the best of us, and we’ll stop at nothing to find and bring his killer to justice.”

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He stayed where he crouched, breathing raggedly. So, Simone hadn’t killed Zander, but she planned on killing whoever did. He could barely comprehend that a sixteen-year-old girl was a stone-cold killer.

Dark magic, are they having a laugh? But what if magic was real?

What Zander had done to the ghost creature had been some sort of magic, for sure.

They were mad, all of them. They had to be. Or it was him who was insane?

Or maybe, just maybe, magic and monsters were real.

Bobby needed to tell the police what he’d heard. But then it was his word against hers and if the Perfects were as connected as people said he might even get silenced. He needed proof. Just as he got his phone out to record the conversation, he heard footsteps heading to the door and knew he had only a few seconds to leg it. He almost tripped over his own feet as he sprinted away, hoping the line of trees obscured him from view.

He ran for several minutes, all the way out of campus, before stopping to clutch a stitch in his side. He looked over his shoulder, but he hadn’t been followed.

His sports lesson would’ve started ages ago now, so he decided to skip it and have an early lunch. Bobby didn’t fancy eating lunch in the cafeteria alone once again, so he made his way to the bakery in town, his mind whirling with all he’d overheard, trying to piece it all together.

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Along the way to the bakery, he checked if the trains were up and running again, but no such luck. He was still stuck in this creepy town.

He was reminded of a horror film as he headed back after lunch. The countryside town seemed perfectly lovely. The people were friendly, and the scenery was nice and pleasant. Yet lurking just out of sight he could feel a strange sense of fear amongst the townsfolk. Did they know something unnatural had happened in Dawnvel too? Or were unnatural things always happening in Dawnvel?

Bobby tried to push the paranoia to the back of his mind as he returned to campus for his last class of the day, double science.

After dinner Bobby didn’t want to stay shacked up in his room again, especially not with Freddy. He walked around campus as late-afternoon turned to dusk. There were still several areas he hadn’t explored. Bobby made sure to check he was always within sight of other students though. He wanted witnesses in case anything weird happened again.

The campus had an eight o’ clock curfew. Students could still hang out in the common rooms afterward, but they had to be inside the buildings themselves.

The syllabus had even said students would be punished harshly if they were found outside once the sun had fallen. He supposed a curfew was ordinary for a boarding school come college, but bizarrely the townsfolk abided by the same curfew too.

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Bobby reckoned he had half an hour before curfew. After traipsing near the woods and lapping the tennis courts, he headed to the vast school lake, where several vacant canoes bobbed alongside an army of ducks.

On his way, he passed a group of people on the opposing path, a line of plants separating them. Bobby only caught a glimpse of them, whilst they couldn’t see him at all. They looked a little old for students and seemed to be arguing. The three men in the group had an unnatural grey pallor to their skin and long black fingernails. Otherwise, they looked relatively normal, but the girl leading them didn’t. Her hair was an acidic green and the tips of her ears appeared to be pointed, like the elves from stories. They had to be fake, right?

“We shouldn’t be here Tarin,” one man said in hushed tones. “They’ve got a whole load of the Earth-suckers here.”

“I know Derek,” Tarin snapped back, “that’s why we need to find Tiberius. I told the fool not to feed here, but he couldn’t resist.”

Bobby quickened his step, his instincts urging him to run. He couldn’t be sure, but he got the feeling things would go bad for him if they noticed him.

Feed? What the hell is she on about?

The strange group disappeared from view as Bobby turned off the path and started down another. He told himself he was being silly and paranoid. They were probably just a couple of locals from the town come to check out the esteemed college.

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Bobby checked his phone, seeing it was ten minutes until curfew and time to head back to his room. As he passed by the Science block, however, he heard a thunderous crash from inside. Bobby stopped dead in his tracks, looking around wildly. He couldn’t see another student on campus. Usually, he’d be curious rather than terrified of hearing a crash. He would’ve thought a teacher had knocked something over in one of the labs or something. But due to previous events, his mind went straight to the ghostly monster.

He heard a muffled bang and then a girl’s voice swearing in anger. It didn’t do much to allay his fears, but Bobby knew he couldn’t just run away. It sounded like someone had hurt themselves. Maybe a girl had knocked over some equipment and got cut by glass. Or maybe something was attacking her?

Despite his fear, he ran into the building. He’d never forgive himself if someone in danger and all he did was run.

He headed down the corridor, looking to the classrooms to his left and right.

They were empty, all that remained was the stairs at the end of the corridor leading to the basement.

All was silent now, except the sound of heavy breathing, it took a moment for Bobby to realise it was his. He wanted to call out, ‘hello’ or something, but his mind told him that would be a bad idea. If it was something malicious, he didn’t want them knowing he was there.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he scurried down the steps and into the basement. The room was colossal, running the whole length of the building

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most likely. It was lit by only one lightbulb at the other end of the room, so Bobby couldn’t see much of anything in the gloom. He looked around frantically, but there was no one here.

Then he saw her in the far corner of the room. Simone leaned against the wall, her white shirt covered in grey paint. It was only when something moved by her feet and she kicked it back down did Bobby realise she was assaulting someone. She slashed down with the knife in her hand and another splatter splashed across her shirt. It wasn’t paint, it was blood.

Bobby heard a muffled gurgle from the man struggling against her, and then silence as Simone stabbed down one

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