The Stormgale Chronicles: To Dream of Drowning

5

The room was quaint, with the same stone flooring as it had downstairs and the same cream-colored walls. The two wooden beds, which were positioned on opposite sides of the room, were made of honey-colored wood with matching nightstands, the sheets an off-white linen. It was bright, with windows that looked out over the back of the manor. A large, sprawling lawn extended until the tree line, the forest dense and shadowy beyond.

"Not bad," Kitt said, nodding at the room. "I've definitely slept in worse."

Wracking my brain, I had nothing to compare the room to other than the seats on the ferry I'd woken up on this morning.

"Yeah," I said instead, nodding. "Not bad."

"Well," my new roommate said, grinning. "Your pick. I'm a man of my word."

"Uh, I guess...this one?"

I plopped my duffel atop the bed that was furthest away from the window.

"Perfect," he replied, taking his book bag and rolling luggage bag across the room, setting them down at the foot of his bed. "Now, for the most important part."

Kitt then, rather unceremoniously, threw himself onto the bed, flopping down hard atop the sheets and mattress. The wooden frame groaned, but when he settled, the guy let out an ecstatic groan.

"Yup," he moaned, face down in the linen sheets. "This'll do just fine."

I couldn't help but smile. Then, following his cue, I sat on top of the bed beside my bag. I sunk a bit into the soft mattress and leaned back, my head hitting one of the pillows. The bed was indeed very, very comfortable.

"So," Kitt said, sitting against the headboard and kicking his legs up. "What's your story? How'd you get an invitation?"

"Accepted?"

"Yeah, to Stormgale. I was...shocked, really. Didn't think I did well on the entrance exam. Then again, nobody knows what exactly the grading system is...it's like, you get in, or you don't."

I shook my head, unable to find any kind of new memory attached to his question. "I haven't a single clue."

"I guess it doesn't matter," Kitt said, stretching out like a cat. "Though, not many reanimated get in, so it's kind of cool to be one of the few."

Suddenly, just as I knew about the vampires and werewolves downstairs, just as I now know about Lamia being a witch, I knew exactly what creature Kitt was referring to. The reanimated were once dead, brought back to life one way or another. Images of scars, burns, and mottled skin came to mind, along with a slew of random knowledge.

"How long have you been...undead?" I asked, suddenly curious at this new bit of information that I suddenly remembered.

"Wow," Kitt said suddenly, shaking his head. "What a deeply personal question."

I blanched. "Oh, no – I'm so sorry, I didn't know...."

Then, he rolled his head over to face me and gave me a wink. "I'm just messing with ya. I've been reanimated since my seventeenth birthday...about three years ago."

"Man, the cake was that bad, huh?" I teased, relieved I hadn't offended him.

His face grew ashen, and immediately my stomach dropped for the second time.

"Alright, no more questions from me," I mumbled. "Sorry."

"No, it's alright," he said, albeit quietly. "It's just...not a fun story."

"I shouldn't have pried."

"No, it's fine, really, but...it's our first day here! We should be happy we even got in – celebrate, even!" He looked down at the foot of his bed and groaned. "But first...unpacking."