Journey of a Girl

A Proper Education: Chapter Fourteen

Credence didn't bother to knock. 

She pushed open the door to the Headmaster's office and slipped inside before slamming it behind her.

She didn't care if she had been seen, or if any of the domestics were following behind to dole out punishment.

More than anything she feared Penny had followed her.

She had to tell the Headmaster what she saw, had to notify him immediately—

But the Headmaster was not there. His ornate desk was vacant. 

It was a discomforting discovery, for where else would the Headmaster be at this time?

What would happen if Penny found Credence before he did?

Whatever lecture the Headmaster would dispense with, Penny's revenge would be far worse.

It was the height of rule-breaking to intrude, and even though Credence had been there before, it was never by herself, and never without permission.

But she would remain in the room, and damn the consequences that fell on her for it.

When I explain what I saw, Credence thought as her heart pounded against her chest, he'll understand why I had to come here.

The image of the branch sprouting from Penny's shoulder flashed in her mind.

Credence couldn't guess what caused such a gruesome aberration, but she hoped the Headmaster might have a comforting theory for it.

Minutes ticked by and her heart slowed to a steady beat. She slumped onto the ground, leaning against the door with her knees tucked into her chest.

Her gaze wandered over the room. She'd seen it twice before, but only now had the freedom to inspect it at her leisure. There was a painting Credence hadn't noticed before, an intricate image of a clearing in a forest, where three children were sitting on the ground and looking up at a tall figure in a dark robe. 

At the bottom of the painting was a golden plaque with an engraving that read, 'Furst Skool'.

There was something about the image, which looked innocuous at a glance, that unsettled Credence the longer she looked at it. The more closely she examined it, the more details she noticed, like the pair of eyes peeking through a bush, or the trunk of a tree in the background that, when she squinted, sported a twisted face.

She turned from the painting, having deemed it a little too grim, when an abrupt noise made her jump.

It sounded like a knock, like someone banging their fist against—

It had come from the floor.

Credence believed she imagined it, that her mind was playing terrible tricks in her agitated state, until a second thump came from beneath her feet.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

On the fifth pound, Credence saw the rug under the Headmaster's desk move, just the slightest, barely perceptible trembling, but there could be no mistake that the knocking was coming from under it.

It's none of my business, she told herself.

After what she'd seen, Credence did not wish to invite any more horror onto herself, so she remained seated near the door.

Another round of knocking began, and at the end of it, a voice spoke.

It sounded like a man, but his words were too muffled to understand.