VILE

Chapter 1: VILE

ASH'S POV:

I've never imagined that there's a place out there just for people like me. People who break rules. Thieves. But, here I am, standing in front of VILE Academy.

I take a deep breath and take another step. I'm excited, yet anxious at the same time. I may be a good pickpocket, but, what if I'm not good enough here? But, I tell myself that if I could pass the entrance exam, doesn't that mean I am qualified? Doesn't that mean I have enough skill?
I climb up some stairs, then finally arrive at the front door. They automatically open and I walk in. Wow, I think, while looking at the polished white tiles and the big statue that looks kind of like the VILE logo in front of me. I walk forward, and I reach into my jeans pocket to get my ID.
I read it- Name: Ash, age: 20, room #2. There were eight dorms with 5 students in each, and, well, looks like I got assigned to my lucky number. I study my ID further while walking forward. I look at my photo. I have tan skin, wavy black hair in a ponytail, and big, dark brown eyes. I stop in front of a door with a sign on top that says "Multipurpose room". There's also a piece of paper taped onto it that says: "New students, please go into your assigned dorm room and put on the VILE uniform before entering for orientation." Okay, I thought. I don't see any stairs, so I get into an elevator and press the number 2. Just as the doors were starting to close, I heard somebody say: "Wait for me!"

GRAHAM'S POV:

"Wait for me!" I shout as I see the elevator doors start to close. The doors open again and I get in. There's somebody else inside. A tall girl wearing a sleeveless navy blue turtleneck top and cuffed white jeans. She's also holding a big black duffel bag. I see her waiting for me as I run to the elevator and get in. "Sorry about that," I say to her as the elevator goes up. Of course, the ride only took a few seconds, the destination being the second floor. We both get off on the second floor and she said: "Sorry for what?" I answer: "You know, delaying the elevator." She simply chuckled and said: "It's okay, Calloway." What? How does she know my last name? I look at my blue duffel bag and there, on a tag, written in big blue letters, was my name: Graham Calloway. Trying to attempt a conversation, I ask: "What's your dorm number?" She answered: "Two. What's yours?" I look at my ID to make sure and answer: "Three." She took a few more steps and said: "Aren't you going to ask my name?" Damn it. I can't believe I forgot. So I ask her: "What's your name? She opens a door with the number two on it and says with a grin: "Ash. Ash Blue."