The Stormgale Chronicles: To Dream of Drowning

4

The foyer was grand – large enough to fit the fifty or so people that made up our group with plenty of room to spare.  The floors were tiled a soft grey; a sharp contrast with the walls, which were bordered with a cherry burnished wood paneling about four feet up from the ground with a soft crème color the rest of the way up into the palatial ceiling.  Paintings were hanged about, some of people, others of landscapes.  There were some gorgeous plants that I could see, adding some of outside's lurid green back inside.

"Huh," a girl near the front of the group said, giving the place a once-over.  "I thought it'd be bigger."

"You say that to everyone you meet?" Asked a rather athletic-looking boy from a similar looking group.  They laughed at their friend, who stepped forward, eyeing the girl wantonly.

Werewolves.

The girl in question, who had fiery red hair, a full figure, and freckles that dusted her pretty face, gave the boy a look of great disdain.

"Only when it's true," she replied unenthusiastically, turning away as if she could no longer be bothered at all.  "Which probably means you get that all the time."

The other guys in his group all snickered and shoved each other at their friend's quick and utter shut-down.

"Sorry the hallowed halls of Stormgale Academy aren't good enough for the great Lamia Perkins."  I turned to see who had spoken, noticing that it was the girl from the group I'd been behind on the ferry.

"I'm sure you can make it work for the socials, though, right?" She continued, glaring haughtily at the pretty red-headed girl.  "Can't let anyone think you're slumming it when you could be in Ibiza."

Lamia lowered her pink heart-shaped sunglasses and peered over top of them.

"You seem deeply bothered by me...and I don't even know name."

"Oh, you will," the girl said, like some dark oath.  "And we're inside now.  You don't need your sunglasses."

"Sharelle, don't even," her tall handsome friend said haughtily.  "She's not worth the time."

"They complete the look," Lamia explained slowly, pushing the glasses back up.  "Though, I guess I couldn't expect someone wearing wannabe Chanel and tacky heels to understand that."

And with that she turned away, just as she had done earlier.  The girl spluttered, eyebrows arched in anger.  A couple people giggled, though a couple seemed to side Sharelle, glaring at Lamia through the crowd, fangs poking out from behind their snarling mouths, eyes glowing ghostly colors behind their irises.

Vampires.

I could suddenly feel a charge in the room, as if a gust of static electricity passed through the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice said suddenly, breaking up the little tit-for-tat.  Headmaster Hellburn had finally stepped into the room, the doors of Stormgale closed shut behind him.  "Need I remind you of the oaths you just took upon entering this place?"

The wave of energy that was making my arm hair stand on end disappeared as the room began to settle.

"That's better," he said, looking at everyone in turn.  Then, his serious face vanished and was replaced by a rather wide, almost mischievous grin.  "Now, if you'll follow me, the you'll be given your roommates and shown to your rooms."

Whispers broke out, along with both excited and nervous whispers to one another.  Hellburn strode through the crowd and stalked down as short hall that went underneath the grand staircase that led to the second floor above.  The walls here were decorated with more paintings.  These were a bit darker, revealing, what I was expecting to be, the more real depictions of the sorts of people that attended this school.  Pale, beautiful individuals with sharpened fangs underneath pouty, stained lips.  A man with several different shades of skin separated by thick, pale scar lines glaring down.  There was one of mountains, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was something quite large flying above them that looked almost like a large lizard of sorts...a dragon, perhaps.