His Idol

The diner.

Cyrus pushed open the door to the local diner, the bell above jingling softly. The warm, comforting smell of coffee and bacon filled the air, a stark contrast to the cold, damp world outside. The diner was a cozy, if somewhat worn, establishment with checkered floors and mismatched booths. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, where people gathered to share stories and secrets over steaming cups of coffee.

As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on an elderly man sitting alone at the counter. The man had a weathered face, lined with the marks of a life lived long and hard. His gray hair was neatly combed, and he wore a threadbare plaid shirt. Cyrus felt a flicker of hope; this man might be the key to unlocking the mystery that had haunted him since he first stepped foot in St. Grey's Academy.

Cyrus approached cautiously, his heart pounding. The old man looked up as he neared, his eyes sharp and curious despite their age. Cyrus cleared his throat and offered a polite smile.

"Excuse me, sir. I was wondering if you could help me with something," Cyrus began, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The man's gaze narrowed slightly. "What's it about, son?"

Cyrus took a seat on the stool next to him. "I'm looking into St. Grey's Academy. I've heard some things about it and-"

The old man's expression changed instantly. His face went pale, and his eyes widened with fear. He glanced around the diner as if he were afraid someone might overhear. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You should never say that name here. Not in this place. Not ever."

Cyrus was taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

The old man's hands trembled as he gripped his coffee cup. "It's not just the school itself. It's what happened there. People around here... they don't talk about it. There's a reason for that."

Cyrus leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "But what happened? I need to know."

The old man shook his head vigorously. "No good will come from digging into that past. Trust me. It's better left buried. People who tried to find out too much... they didn't fare well."

"Did something happen?" Cyrus pressed. "I've found some old articles, but they're all so vague. I need more information to understand what really went on."

The old man's eyes darted around nervously. "Listen, son. I know you're determined, but there are things that are better left alone. You don't want to be involved in this. The school... it was just an ordinary place, nothing special. But what happened there... it's beyond any explanation you'll find in a newspaper or an archive."

Cyrus felt a chill run down his spine. "But if it's just an ordinary school, why is everyone so afraid to talk about it?"

The old man took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. "Because what happened there wasn't ordinary. It was dark, and it was terrifying. And the people who know the truth... they're too afraid to speak."

Cyrus's frustration boiled over. "I don't understand. I need to know what happened. If everyone is so afraid, it means there's something really terrible hidden there. I can't just walk away."

The old man's face hardened. "You think you're strong enough to face it? The darkness that was there... it doesn't just let go. It clings to those who try to uncover it. I'm telling you for your own good—never speak of that school again."

With that, the old man stood up, leaving a few crumpled bills on the counter. He walked briskly toward the door, casting one last fearful glance over his shoulder before slipping out into the rain-soaked streets.

Cyrus sat there, the weight of the old man's words pressing heavily on his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was on the edge of something much larger and more dangerous than he had ever anticipated. The school wasn't just an abandoned building—it was a site of deep, unresolved terror.

As he left the diner, rain had begun to fall very heavily, blurring the world around him. He looked back at the small, unremarkable building that had held so many secrets, feeling a sense of dread settle in his bones. The old man's fear was contagious, and Cyrus couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that whatever truth lay hidden within the walls of St. Grey's Academy was far worse than he had ever imagined.

he hadn't been to the school since yesterday night. The cold morning air, a reminder of the darkness that still awaited him.