AETHERIA UNIVERSITY

They told us Aetheria university was a school.
They lied.

The moment you walk in, the gates close behind you, and you will never leave again. The University is cursed - built to imprison the students it claims to teach. The walls are too high to climb, the forest around it too thick to run through, and the phones? Dead the second you cross the entrance.

Mornings are almost normal.
There are classes. There's the smell of rice and coffee in the cafeteria. There's laughter in the courtyard and uniforms lined up for attendance. For a few hours, you can almost forget.

Almost.

Because no one smiles with their eyes.
Because every hallway has a new photo on the memorial wall.
Because every night, someone is killed.

The teachers don't talk about it. The announcements never mention names. But we all count. We all hear the sirens at 3 AM and pretend we're still asleep.

That's why we have one rule, carved into the dorm doors in black paint:
Be inside before 6 PM. No excuses. No late passes. No second chances.

At 5:59, the halls are empty.
At 6:00, the lights in the courtyard flicker, and the doors lock themselves.

Inside Aethria University, the daylight pretends everything is fine.
The night tells the truth.

And the truth is, the school is hungry.