Moonlit Academy

Chapter 2

Cara Knight

I lift my headphones so that they rest on my head, just as the world fades and music is the only thing that matters. I let Die, Die ,Die My Darling by metallica burst in my ears as a rare ghost smile creeps it's way onto my face. the engine of the shining black ducati purrs to life as I upp the speed.The locks of my dark hair dancing with the beat of heavy metal. Blood still coated my finger nails from two hours ago as I continue to hear his screams with the loud bass buzzing in my ears. Just as I reach the chorus I come face to face with large, pretentious gates leading to a place reeking with money and rich assholes. A place Cara Knight was suppose to attend as a  new student. Hence the hell hole I had to sell my soul to if I ever wanted revenge. Moonlit Academy. The silver plate had the name engraved in it and I was sure the silver was real. I cut the engine and pause my music, dumping my headphones into the bag that was strapped around my stomach. My eyes drift towards what looked like sleeping fucking beauty's fantasy castle with its red rose bushes and spiky as fuck vines that looked like a murder weapon. The school was buzzing with students. Girls hurried around with their skirts high enough to see their colourful lacy panties and the boys were openly gawking at them as they passed.I quickly found a parking space perfectly waiting for nothing clearly so I took the sweet spot parking my gorgeous ducati there. Well calling it "mine" is a lie, but i'm sure once somethings stolen it becomes yours eventually. Right?
I swiftly lift my helmet straightening out the waves of my dishevelled jet black hair. As I open my eyes I wince as I realised I have an audience. Few boys and even girls have stopped to stare at me. Some girls whispering to each other, sparing me looks that could kill and some boys stopped dead in their tracks with their mouths half open. I  ignore them and raise my head and keep my mask in place. Cara Knight may have died the same day I had but I still had to keep her  identity to survive this place. The real me would have no way in. I adjust my back pack  and quickly make a move towards one of the four entrances this place has but before I can even take a step i'm pushed against the cold white stone walls surrounded by vines of the red roses. Momentarily my eyes close, as the pain from the thorns piercing in my back and a rough, huge, pulsing hand wraps tightly around my neck. snapping out of my haze and blinking away the pain, which no doubt has my back bleeding, my eyes widen in anger. Darkness clouds my vision as it locks with the same but yet different eyes that I know so well. The same eyes which would haunt me in my sleep, and mock me during the day. His eyes were far more deeper and darker than his fathers. Almost as if the forbidden parts of a dark sea were held there. His eyes could scare the world away from him, but not me. Kylian Gold looks like a man sculpted by the devil himself. Razor sharp cheekbones, dark black hair, a build that couldn't be commented upon by words and just actions, his muscles were seconds away from tearing through his shirt and his thighs thick, rock hard and long, as a result of his sparring 6'3 towering height. A sexy as hell vein along his neck pulses as his eyes sharpen. He gives away nothing but that. Theres no emotion or feeling I could see his eyes. Almost impressed I feel giddy thinking of ways to make him crack. His hot breath ticks at my nape as he leans in to whisper something in my ear. Holding my breath I don't dare to move. Then something crazy happens, his hand squeezes harder around my neck and in a deep, rough, voice, Kylian Gold finally speaks after which seems like seconds of calculated thinking.The two words he speaks shock me, and I hear which seems like the entire school behind Kylian sinking in the words he just spoke. His words stay in the air as if god has just commanded the whole school by just 2 small words.
"Fuck.Off." are the 2 words he had chosen to speak . loud enough to make me dare to flinch. He then let me go and left me gasping for air as I looked down to see a large red and bruised hand print adorning my neck and lifted my other hand towards my back, which as I bring forward, was covered in my thick crimson blood as it continued to soak my white uniform. A maniac smile forms on my face as I wipe the blood all over my shirt, painting it red. Then I whisper to myself the words which excited me more than ever. "But I have not yet gotten started." With no one in my vicinity now, I walk with my blood soaked shirt, red neck and a maniac smile towards this hell school, the blood wasn't suppose to be mine but it will be his blood on my clothes the next time he dares to have his hands on me.