12. Stella
12
Stella
We get weekends off, which is nice of Robert Sinclair, but I found out we aren’t allowed to leave the property, which is monumentally shitty.
Win some, lose some.
I’ve been here two weeks and have not seen Sinclair. I’m not sure why I thought I would. I assumed that because this is the only campus and his name and likeness are everywhere, he’d show his face at some point.
But nope. Nada. Zilch.
No Robert.
Most of the other supernaturals seemed to be taking advantage of the warm weather and were either sunbathing or heading to the lake, but I decided my time would be best spent in the library doing research.
It’s been three hours, and I don’t think I’ve found anything worthwhile. I’m not sure what I expected to find, but I had hoped for something that may point to how the transition from supernatural to simplynatural happens.
The goblin shelving books was less than helpful, with his glassy eyes and voice free of inflection. He’s also asked me multiple times to store my wings, citing that I would never learn to be a simplynatural if I did not separate myself from my spirit.
It’s a common request from all the teachers except Michael and most second-year students. They think I am flaunting my supernatural spirit by having them out.
Who cares if I am?
The longer I am here and get to live as I am meant to be, the angrier I get at how I had to hide them. It was complete bullshit.
I’ve run into a dead end here, though, because all of these books are the same shit I would find in Authentic libraries back in Tioney. But that’s the final push I need to dive into the paperwork they gave me on my first day. Outside of my schedule, I didn’t bother to read a lick of it, but I guess I should do that now.
Rules and Regulations for Optimum Assimilation
1. All classes are mandatory. No class may be missed for any reason except when approved by the administration. 2. Travel outside of campus grounds is prohibited. 3. Outside food and drink is prohibited. Rooms are subject to search. 4. All spirit specific rules must be followed and are subject to enforcement at the same level as these. 5. Romantic relationships between students are highly discouraged as they interrupt the learning progress. 6. Beginning a student’s fifth quarter, any outward displays of spirit must be removed if possible. This includes partial shifts, wings, horns, tails, or any other visual indicator that can be controlled to make someone appear more or less Authentic. 7. Contact with anyone outside the Academy is allowed only through physical mail that is posted through the administration. This privilege may be revoked if the administration deems it harmful to the individual’s learning environment. 8. Any supernatural found following their spirit’s whims is subject to immediate expulsion and will be handed to the appropriate authorities. This will permanently remove the option for Reformation. 9. At the beginning of the second quarter, students must declare a primary occupational focus so their course load may be adjusted. If one is not declared, the Academy reserves the right to select for the student. All declared occupations must come from the approved list for the applicable spirit type, which can be found in the orientation packet. 10. Disenrollment is not allowed, and any attempt to leave the Academy will result in imprisonment. 11. Robert Sinclair reserves the right to change, alter, remove, or add any rule at any time. All new rules will be immediately implemented, with no grace period. Students must diligently check their mail slots outside their rooms for rule communication.
My stomach churns. What have I gotten myself into? These rules are nowhere on the internet and certainly never mentioned in ads. It’s hardly less restrictive than prison. I wouldn’t have decided to come here if I had known it would be like this. But in for a penny, in for a pound I guess, because I’m already here.
I have to admit, these rules on their own could make a compelling article, but there isn’t enough here to explain why when the students leave, it seems like their spirits have been sucked out of their bodies. And that’s what the real story is here.
The making of a simplynatural.
I grab the next page, my spirit-specific rules, and brace myself for the bullshit that I know is within.
Rules for Valkyrie: The Warrior Spirit
1. Beginning the fifth quarter, wings must be stowed at all times, even in private dormitories. 2. To discourage the continued growth of musculature, access to the campus gymnasium will be prohibited. Running may be approved by the administration on a case-by-case basis, but it will be limited to a light jog and supervised by a staff member. 3. Any physical altercation with another student will result in the revocation of all privileges. The student will have no access to other students and receive individual instruction from an academy-appointed teacher. 4. In accordance with Valkyrie lore, celibacy is a requirement for attendance. Any dalliance will result in expulsion, and authorities will be called.
I look up from the paper, a cold sweat on my lower back, and look around the library furtively.
Can anyone see how affected I am by this?
There is so much wrong with these rules that now I wonder if I need to make an exit plan to get out of here. Maybe I could find someone who could get me far away from here, to another region, where I can hide until they forget about me and don’t try to arrest me.
But as soon as I think about it, I know it’s not likely. The realm government is in Robert Sinclair’s pocket. Why else would they funnel so many supernaturals to him?
And I just walked in.
I walked right through the doors and signed over my spirit.
A chill trickles down my spine, and my skin tightens like I’m being watched. But when I look around, the library is empty, and there is only the sound of the goblin shelving books taking up residence.
My phone buzzes from the bottom of my bag.
No one is around me, but I still ruffle my wings to block me as I pull it out.
Yuri
I need you to tell me where you are, Stella
I went to your apartment, and it’s been cleaned out
where the fuck are you?
ANSWER ME, STELLA
THIS IS NOT A FUCKING JOKE YOU LYING CUNT. ANSWER. ME.
The phone slips from my hand and lands in my lap. I sit, frozen, the furious texts practically branded on the backs of my eyelids.
“Lying cunt,” I whisper.
He knows.
That’s the only explanation. He knows what I am.
I don’t know how, but that’s the only explanation.
I wrack my brain, searching for another lie I would have told him, and I don’t find one.
The level of aggression that his texts show makes me nervous. An angry male is a dangerous male.
But at least I’m safe at the Academy.
I mean, relatively speaking.
I throw everything in my bag. I feel sick, and I don’t think I can read the list of jobs they believe are appropriate for my spirit. I can’t stomach any more of this bullshit.
I don’t bother trying to feed my wings through my backpack straps, opting instead to sling it over one shoulder and rush out of the library and into the fresh air of the courtyard.
The warm sun cools my chills, and the light breeze dries my cold sweat, but I still feel like something is clawing up my throat.
The rules.
Yuri’s messages.
The rules.
Yuri’s messages.
Trapped.
Trapped.
Trapped.
Anxiety has my hands clenching and my vision narrowing. My stomach continues to churn as the rules spin in my mind.
Prison if I try to leave or break a rule.
Celibacy.
Prison if I fight someone.
Celibacy.
Prison if I leave campus.
CELIBACY.
I can’t fuck.
I didn’t come here with the intention of fucking anyone, but after those messages from Yuri, I would love the chance to get out of my head a little.
Hysterical laughter bubbles out of my throat. I could go to jail for fucking someone, and with my track record, it wouldn’t even be good sex.
I have my laptop with me. I could email the rules to someone and post them online, but would anyone believe them without other proof to back them up?
Robert Sinclair has his share of supernatural and Authentic critics, but he has a dynamite PR team that can spin any accusation or criticism his way. I could post this, but it would immediately be labeled a hoax and declared to be the result of an extremist trying to get the Academy defunded.
The group that opposes the Academy is small. Any supernaturals who are a part of it have to remain hidden else they end up thrown in here or in prison, and the Authentics that support it are written off as nutcases who seek to cause total anarchy in our society by dismantling our government.
No, if I want to make a difference, if I want this experiment to be worth it, I have to see this through.
I know deep down in my spirit that I need to be here. The anxiety starts to fade, to drip from my fingertips so I no longer carry its burden.
The vibes I’m giving off must be pretty unnerving as I’m standing here, frozen, in the middle of the grass because people are staying away from me for once. Or maybe the novelty of me being a Valkyrie has worn off. Whatever caused it, I’m glad because I am in no mood to entertain or be kind.
Fuck.
I threw Tree during the first week. What if he reports me? Others can’t possibly know what’s in my rules, can they? I need to find him and ensure we’re on good terms so I’m not at risk of getting put in what amounts to solitary confinement.
Students are filing into the dining hall, and though I have no appetite, this may be my best shot at finding Tree and ensuring we’re on good terms before I get in trouble for breaking a rule I didn’t know existed in my first week. I load my tray up with enough food to not garner attention and search for the vampire, but I don’t see him anywhere.
I decide to sit in a spot visible from the door and spread my wings as much as possible to draw attention, hoping he finds me. I take slow and small bites of the sandwich I grabbed with my eyes on the door. I don’t have to wait long until Tree comes in with the same three vampires as the first time I met him.
He immediately spots me and smiles, his fangs jutting over his bottom lip. I motion for him to join me, and he does, with his friends following closely behind. They all have steaks on their plates, and when one cuts into it, I notice that it’s hardly cooked. I never much considered what it may be like being a vampire here, but it’s doubtful they are allowed any access to blood, which is their primary food source.
How miserable that must be.
“Stella, darling,” Tree says, smiling at me. “Good to see you again.”
“I’m glad to see you too, Tree. I wanted to apologize for my part in our tiff when we first met. It wasn’t kind of me to read into your intentions, and I didn’t reciprocate when you came to apologize. If I’m honest, I’ve been feeling a little torn up about it.” I cast my eyes to my tray, trying to appear contrite and demure.
“Water under the bridge, Stella. I tend to lose my mind around beautiful females.”
Ugh. Come on, Tree, try to make this a little easier for me.
I’m not trying to flirt with the male. I want to make sure he’s not going to run off and tell someone that I tossed him on his ass. Still, he’s not being lascivious or rude, so I chuckle and take a large bite of my sandwich. It’s like sawdust, but I choke it down. “Honestly, I’m struggling to assimilate. I didn’t expect to feel so out of place here.”
“We’re all freaks, but being the only one of your spirit has gotta be hard,” one of the other vampires says. She’s pretty, with hair so pale it’s almost white that brushes her chin, dark eyes, and pouty lips. “Hard to find a coven when you’re all there is.”
“Do they allow you to form covens here?” I’m surprised that there isn’t a rule against gathering together a group of vampires. Like shifters and their packs, a coven is critical to the stability and strength of a vampire.
“Oh fuck no,” Tree laughs. “It’s like rule number one on our spirit rules. But it takes five to be considered a coven, so we’re safe.”
“Wow, that’s gotta feel so unnatural for you.” I’ve dropped my voice now, unsure who we can trust when discussing the rules.
Are we even allowed to tell them to others?
“It is,” says a bulky vampire on Tree’s left. The male is massive, with broad arms and shoulders that would have me thinking shifter if he didn’t have the fangs and red eyes that all vampires have. “But this whole place is unnatural, so…” he trails off.
“Tell me about it,” I snort, moving on to my bowl of soup. I must’ve been hungry because I barely noticed finishing my sandwich. “I’m supposed to remain celibate since some mythology surrounding Valkyrie called them virgin warriors.”
Tree sputters into the water he’s drinking, barely able to stop himself from spitting it on me. “I’m sorry, your rules say you’re not allowed to fuck?”
“Technically, the general rules say romantic relationships are discouraged,” the female vampire says.
“You don’t need romance to fuck,” Tree responds with a waggle of his eyebrows.
I rub the back of my neck, staring at my plate. I didn’t mean to make my sex life a topic of conversation, but here we are, I guess. “My rules say if they find out I break my vow of celibacy, they’re sending me to prison,” I deadpan.
“So I guess you can’t fuck any teachers because I cannot imagine another student will report you,” the big vampire says.
It’s not that I ever had plans to pursue Michael—Professor Jessup—but knowing that I explicitly can’t doesn’t feel right. I feel like a stubborn child who stops doing something I was about to do just because someone asked me to. Thinking about not getting to be with him opens a chasm in my chest of longing.
I wrinkle my nose and push that thought down, not ready to think about where it comes from.
“Who knows,” says the willowy vampire farthest from me. Until now, he’s been silent, focusing only on the steak that is now missing from his plate. “Some second years closer to graduation are all in on the regimen. I bet they wouldn’t hesitate.”
I’m growing uncomfortable at the continued discussion of my sex life, and I feel my face heat. Tree must notice because he steers the conversation away. “Obviously, we’re not allowed to drink blood, but I’m not sure how much longer bloody steaks are going to help.”
“It’s cruel they’re cutting you off from your food,” I say, shaking my head. “Are they trying to kill you?”
“Sometimes I think so, yeah.” Tree looks around uncomfortably, then leans closely, dropping his voice low. “Look, I hate to ask you this, but you seem to understand the struggle and how corrupt this place is. I was hoping maybe you’d want to help us. We have a small rotation of spirits willing to donate blood to keep us alive.” He looks away from me, eyes trained on his hands as his shoulders fold inward, making him appear smaller. “Would you consider being one of them?”
My heart stutters. Would I let a vampire feed on me? Even when I was young and had a vampire friend, she never fed on me. And here is a stranger asking me to do something so intimate, something forbidden. My rejection sits on the tip of my tongue.
Tree, sensing my hesitation, rushes to continue. “It’s very clinical, I promise. There’s a vein in the foot we can use so no one sees the marking and it doesn’t feel as intimate.”
“Feet?” The absurdity of it causes me to swallow my refusal. “Is this just a way to appease your foot fetish?”
“Oh, you caught me,” he says sarcastically. “But seriously,” his voice drops to a whisper, and vulnerability shines on his face. “Would you please consider it? You’re a powerful spirit, and less blood would be needed from you to satiate at the same level as the others.”
I suck on my teeth, considering what he’s asking of me. There is nothing in my rules that says I cannot be a donor, so the risk for me would probably be minimal. Also, if he’s breaking a major rule with me, he’ll be less likely to report me for my indiscretions.
He grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. His face is reverent, communicating how serious he is about this. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary, Stella. I know we didn’t get off on the right foot,” he chuckles at the unintentional joke, “but I feel like I can trust you for some strange reason. We’re actively being starved, and we’re running out of options.”
His plea tugs at me, and after everything that I learned today, it lights me up with fury. How fucking dare Robert Sinclair and the Authentics put us in this position?
It’s criminal.
It’s despicable.
Resolved, I nod. “I’ll help. Lead the way.”