"I'm so pleased for you." This time the distorted voice was feminine, the accent tantalisingly familiar. "So pleased, Elsa. We shall be great friends." The hooded girl wore a key on a long gold chain around her neck. Behind her stood more sinister shapes. There was a whole circle of them. At least one of them wasn't disguised. "Tyler?" The uneasy guilt left his face.
With a forced grin he stepped forward, stretching out a hand to touch her manacled ones. When she only stared back, he linked his fingers through hers, and squeezed nervously. "Good news, Elsa! You've been chosen!" "I've been what?" This time she managed to bark it. "Chosen. Accepted! You're one of us now. One of the Few!" "Not quite yet," murmured the first figure. "But soon."
"Elsa, I knew, didn't I? Didn't I tell you you'd be perfect? You're chosen!" She spoke through clenched teeth. "What if I don't want to be chosen?" A harsh voice broke in, scornful. "You offered yourself willingly. You attended a Congress to be interviewed." "I never heard there was a vote. I wasn't told." "There was no vote." Tyler sounded uncomfortable. "The proposal was vetoed from on high, so this Congress is . . . ah, an unofficial one. But you've been favoured by a very influential member of the Few. That's more than enough."
"Despite any petty school rules," someone added. Unofficial? What was that supposed to mean? "And once you are Few, you will always be Few. There's nothing Sir Pitch can do about that." Elsa caught her breath. "You mean Sir Pitch doesn't know?" "You are very privileged." Another cool voice spoke from the circle. Again she couldn't put a face to it. It was infuriating, but trying to work out their identities made her a little calmer. "Membership for the Few has never been a func-" "A function of scholarships," spat Elsa, trembling. "So what is their function, then?"
"Once you are Few, you'll know all there is to know. You won't regret it." "I get the feeling I will," muttered Elsa. The first hooded figure nodded at someone behind her. Suddenly Elsa remembered Meredith ling helpless, too weak to even cy, feet and fingers jerking as her veins stood out on her skin . . . "Tyler," she whispered. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Elsa hated herself for looking so weak in front of the Few. "Don't let them do this. Please. Whatever it is. Please."
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Black Academy
Fanfiction'TRUE GRADUATES OF THE BLACK ACADEMY TAKE LIFE BY THE THROAT, ELSA. REMEMBER THAT!' The Black Academy is a school like no other. An élite establishment that moves to a new exotic city every term, its students are possibly beautiful, sophisticated...
