Inversion

New Experiences

The trees passed by in a flash as I stared at the changing landscape, it was fascinating. I'd never even been out of the city until today, and here I was in what looked like a scene from The Hobbit or something. The car jolted, gravel crunching and slipping beneath the tires every time we take a turn, and each turn revealing previously unseen depths of the forest.

“Are you sure this is the way hon?” my mom asked from the driver's seat, snapping me out of my reverie. I shrugged and pulled out my phone to check the directions in response.

“Yeah, I mean according to Mapquest we're going the right way. But ya know, it's Mapquest. Anyway, the brochure did say the school was in the 'heart of a lush woodland', but I didn't know it would be like this.”

“Alright, well next time I'm definitely renting an SUV, this car just isn't cutting it out here.”

I nodded absent-mindedly and resumed staring out the window, the forest was getting so thick it obscured the sky above and the world became tinted a soft green, as if everything was lightly covered in moss. The dim light and general otherworldly quality of the woods began to play tricks on my eyes the longer I stared, strange shapes and colors flitting about the tree tops, and every now and then I swear I could see faces in the trees. The gentle crunch of the tires and the repetitive scenery began to wear on me and before I knew it I drifted off to sleep.

“Honey,” a gentle shake of my arm accompanies the word and I sit up, yawning.

“What's up? How long was I out?” I ask groggily, rubbing my eyes.

“Only about an hour, we're here though,” she answers with a smile, “and it's gorgeous. I can't believe you got a full ride here! Especially with your grades.” I laughed and stepped out of the car to see for myself, the brochure hadn't had many pictures of the campus, and none of them had done it justice.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Are we at the right place? There is NO way this the school.” I said incredulously. The campus was in a large clearing in the middle of the woods, the closest building featured a roundabout where we were parked, and the center of the roundabout was dominated by a massive statue of what looked like two vikings locked in combat. The building itself looked more like a castle than anything, made of large stone blocks covered in creeping ivy, and in the distance I could see several “smaller” buildings scattered around the clearing, each sharing the distinctly medieval look of the main one. I took in the campus little by little, convinced that at any moment either Hagrid was going to come stumbling up to tell us Dumbledore was almost ready, or a large group of armed men were going to pop out and tell us that we were trespassing. A few moments passed, and neither of those things happened, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

“Well, lets go check in I guess?” I said, gesturing towards the main building. Mom nodded in agreement, but I could tell she was having the same thoughts I was. I'm no straight A student, the only sport I ever played was Tennis and I wasn't especially good at that either. So why, why did this school I've (or anyone I know) never heard of send me a brochure, and an acceptance letter with a full ride scholarship? At first I thought it was a scam of some sort, I mean, it's in the middle of nowhere, no one has heard of it, and to top it off the school doesn't even have a website. I had to write an actual physical letter to them to make sure it was a real place, and the only response I got was a terse letter saying to come visit before I make such ridiculous assumptions.

Now that I was standing here, I knew it was real, but my doubts about getting accepted were multiplying. I hadn't even applied, it must have been a mistake. Someone with the same name had been accepted, not me. We were going to talk to the admissions clerk and she would say “Oh, I'm terribly sorry, there's been some misunderstanding,” and me and mom would sheepishly get back in the car and make the long drive back to the airport in silence, and I would go to community college like we had initially planned, and in a few weeks this whole place would seem like something I had only dreamed of.

I climbed the steps to the main entrance, they were rough hewn slabs of stone, and the doors were solid wood with intricate carvings of what looked like angels and demons in a fierce battle, not to mention they were at least twelve feet tall. I leaned in to inspect the carvings, thoroughly impressed by the craftsmanship, and then gave one of the doors an experimental push. It opened effortlessly without so much as a creak. I blinked in amazement and turned back to mom who looked just as confused as I felt. I shrugged and waved for her to follow me and stepped into the antechamber which was every bit as impressive as you would expect from the outside. The ceilings were so high as to be unseeable, the upper reaches enveloped in darkness. Torches hung from the walls at irregular intervals, and large portraits of formidable looking men and women stared down their noses at us as we looked for the front desk, or any one who could point us in the right direction. A rush of air hit me and then hurried on down the hall making the torches sputter as the door shut behind us.

“Did you..?” I asked mom pointing at the door, she just shook her head, beginning to look a bit pale.

“HELLO?” I half-heartedly yelled into the cavernous room, my voice growing weak and distorted as it echoed down the adjacent hallways. I scratched my head and looked around, I was out of ideas. When I turned around to say as much to mom, there was a man in a dapper suit with impeccably combed hair standing behind me with a gloved hand extended in greeting. I jumped back in surprise and almost slipped on the smooth marble floor, but he caught my hand and pulled me back to my feet without missing a beat.

“Master Sloane, I presume?” the man asked politely, the barest hint of an accent inflecting his voice, something European maybe.

“Err, yes, I suppose. I mean, I usually go by Jack that is. Am I," I gestured vaguely around the room, " uh, in the right place?”

“Yes, I believe you are Master Jack. I am the school's butler, Esper Watson, and I will be bringing you to the Dean's office if you have no objections. Do not hesitate to ask me if you should ever require anything.”

“Butler...? The school has it's own butler?” Mom asked incredulously, walking over to see for herself.

“Ah, Lady Sloane, a pleasure,” he said briefly grasping her hand in both of his in greeting, “And in answer to your question, yes, the school does have it's own butler, as well as many other things school's lack in these, hmm, shall we say less refined times. But for now, please allow me to take you to the Dean, you may explore the facilities at your leisure after we get you settled in properly.” With that he took off at a brisk pace down an adjacent hallway, moving quick and silent with an unusual grace. They fell in step behind him struggling to keep up and not get lost in the labyrinthine maze of corridors, it was no wonder how he had managed to sneak up on us like that, the man was like a whisper in a crowded room. I tried to take in my surroundings as we went, but the passages seemed to have no rhyme or reason, twisting and turning on themselves like a snake trying to eat it's own tail.

“Are we... going in circles? I swear we've passed that guy with the creepy mustache like five times,” I said indicating the portrait on the wall nearby, which looked distinctly upset. Had it looked like that before?

“No,” Esper said with a faint smile, “however it can be quite confusing here if you don't know your way about the grounds young sir. The man in that painting is the late, great Aberdeen Finch, founder of this school, and his estate is it's primary benefactor. The mustache was... quite in style for it's time.”

I nodded and looked back at the painting as we continued on, the flickering torchlight making Mr. Finch look quite pleased from this angle. The butler carried on, leading us down hall after all without so much as a pause to think about which way to go. After a few more minutes of walking we reached a small, plain white door and came to a stop. There was a plaque on it that simply said “The Dean”, no name or any sort of embellishment, it looked completely out of place compared to the opulence of the rest of the building.

“Should we knock? Or just go-” I started to ask, but Esper had disappeared down one of the nearby hallways without a sound. “Creepy.” Not knowing what else to do, I went to knock on the door, but it opened before my knuckles even hit the wood.