Her breath caught, the world tilting sideways.
No… no, this can't be happening.
Ori felt her entire being pulsing, every nerve lit up as though the world itself was pressing down on her. Smells, sounds, sensations—all of it collided at once. The metallic tang in the air pierced her nose, sharp and unbearable, while the steady roar of the storm outside crashed against her ears. She was nauseous and weightless all at once, a sick rush of adrenaline flooding her body.
Before she even knew what she was doing, her body moved. With a swift motion she nearly flew out of bed, the sheet falling in a tangled heap behind her.
Her feet carried her forward on instinct, faster than she could think. She didn't stop to ask, didn't hesitate to look. Somehow she knew exactly where to go.
The bathroom.
Her heart slammed in her chest as she stumbled inside, and only then did it strike her—she hadn't been guided by sight or memory, but by sound. The faintest, most ordinary sound: drops of water tapping against porcelain in the sink. A sound no human ear should have picked out through the storm.
Ori stood frozen in the bathroom, her palms pressed to the edge of the sink. The mirror gave her back a stranger's face.
Her breath hitched.
The girl staring at her had skin pale as porcelain, lips tinted with a nervous flush, and eyes—God, the eyes. Once ocean-deep blue, they now burned a sharp, impossible red, glowing faintly in the warm light of the sconces.
And her hair.
Ori lifted a trembling hand to the silken strands that spilled over her shoulders. No longer black as ash. No longer hers. White as snow, gleaming like it had been carved out of winter itself.
Her chest tightened. She leaned closer, desperate to prove it wrong, to find something of herself still hiding there. That was when she saw them—the subtle curve, the sharp tips catching against her lip. Fangs.
Her stomach lurched.
Am I going crazy? This can't be real. This can't be me.
But the reflection didn't waver. The eyes, the fangs, the snow-white hair—they were all real.
Ori staggered back from the mirror, clutching the sink as though the porcelain could anchor her. Her pulse thundered, echoing in her ears, in her throat, everywhere.
No. No, no, no. This isn't me. This isn't real.
Her chest heaved, breath breaking into sharp gulps. She pulled at her hair, fistfuls of white sliding like silk through her fingers. It should be black. It's always been black. What the hell is this?
Her reflection stared back, stranger and stranger the longer she looked. Red eyes, gleaming like a predator's in the dark. The faint gleam of her fangs when her mouth trembled open. The horror etched across her own face.
I look like… like a monster.
Her stomach twisted violently. For a second she thought she might throw up, but nothing came. Just that bitter metallic tang in her mouth, sharp and insistent.
The room felt too close, the walls pressing in, her own reflection multiplying in the glass, mocking her. Ori gripped the sink harder, knuckles whitening.
This can't be happening. This can't be me.
Ori clutched the sink, trembling, her own reflection a stranger—white hair, crimson eyes, fangs she could actually feel. Her breath came shallow, ragged.
Then—
"Hey, girl… are you okay?"
Kleo's voice floated in, warm and careful.
Ori's head snapped toward the door. Kleo stood there, leaning casually against the frame, but her expression was soft, sympathetic. The turquoise glow of her cheek tattoo shimmered faintly, like it was pulsing with her heartbeat.
"I know it's a lot to take in," Kleo said gently, palms open as though she didn't want to spook her. "But I promise—it'll all start to make sense."
Ori swallowed, her throat dry as ash. Her lips trembled around the words.
"So… this… the whole thing…" She touched her fangs, sharp and undeniable. Her voice broke.
"It's true? Vampires really do exist?"
For a moment, silence pressed heavy between them. Then Kleo let out a little laugh, scratching the back of her neck.
"I know, right? Talk about firsthand experience, ha!"
Her smile was disarming, like she was trying to lighten the air with sheer force of personality. She took a step into the bathroom, her kimono-cut dress catching the low golden light.
Ori blinked at her, the words catching in her throat.
"So you… and I—we're both… vampires?"
Kleo gave an easy laugh, shoulders lifting as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "That's right, Snowflake! You, me, and pretty much every citizen of The Veridian, which includes everyone in this Academy too."
The words rang in Ori's ears, louder than the drip-drip of the sink. She tightened her grip on the counter until her nails bit the wood. Vampires. She had just said the word out loud. Her pulse fluttered beneath her skin like a trapped bird.
Her own thoughts kept crowding in, tripping over each other, louder than the dripping faucet or the hum of the light. No reflections. Garlic. Coffins. Stakes. Wasn't that how the stories went? She tried to shove the nonsense away, but it tangled with the sight of her too-pale skin, her red eyes, her teeth that felt sharp when her tongue brushed against them.
She lifted her hands, twisting her long white hair into a messy knot, just to give herself something to do, some way to hold on. And then—suddenly—it hit her. The realization jolted through her chest like a spark.
Her gaze snapped back to the mirror.
"How come I can see my reflection in the mirror?" The words tumbled out fast, sharp. Her throat tightened as she added, "Isn't it like a well-known fact that vampires don't have a reflection?"
Ori's voice cracked against the bathroom tiles, the question still echoing when Kleo burst into laughter.
"Oh girl, you are killing me! Haha! It's all a well-known BS!" She doubled over, hands thrown to her head as she laughed so hard it shook her shoulders.
The sound was bright, alive, and for a second Ori could only stare, stunned by how someone could laugh so easily while she was falling apart.
Kleo straightened, still grinning wide. "Very few things humans know about vampires are true. It's mostly all made-up fantasy stuff."
Kleo leaned against the doorframe, still grinning, her voice lilting with playful ease.
"Except for the fangs, the eyes, and the effective ways of killing us…"
Ori's chest tightened. Killing us. The words rattled inside her skull like loose glass.
"But let's face it," Kleo went on, tossing a hand dramatically, "who would survive a stake through the heart or, you know, a little decapitation? Am I right?"
Her laughter rang out again, bold and unbothered, filling the bathroom with warmth that felt absurdly out of place against Ori's spiraling dread. And yet—somehow—it worked. The ridiculousness of it, the way Kleo leaned into humor so casually, steadied her. It was like a hand pulling her out of a storm.
For the first time since waking, Ori felt her thoughts sharpen into something familiar: sarcasm. Her shield. Her comfort zone. The panic loosened just enough for her to breathe—and roll her eyes, if only internally.
Ori tilted her head back, eyes climbing the bathroom ceiling. Glass stretched above her, framed in dark beams that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. And it hit her. Not just here—the living room, the bedroom… every ceiling in this so-called vampire dorm was the same.
I don't think I've ever seen that many windows in one room in my whole life.
Her stomach gave a nervous lurch, and before she could stop herself, the words burst out:
"Okay, then why are there windows all over this place? Isn't the sun going to, like… kill us?"
Kleo lifted her hand toward the ceiling, her expression bright with that same effortless reassurance.
"Oh no, no… special UV-screening glass," she said, her tone almost breezy, like she was explaining a quirk in the dorm's plumbing.
Ori blinked at her. UV-screening glass?
Kleo tapped the window with her knuckles, her smile widening.
"First off, the sun isn't immediately deadly to most of us. It's more like… we're really, really allergic. To get seriously hurt, you'd need to spend at least a few hours baking under it. But since you're a reborn, it might be a little less time for you than for me." She shrugged, easy and unbothered. "Still, don't worry, girl! Everything in this place is designed to make life comfortable for us. You are safe."
Her words tumbled out with a kind of casual confidence, like this whole situation—fangs, blood, eternal night—wasn't earth-shattering at all.
Ori's chest tightened. Safe. Kleo kept throwing that word around like it was a blanket big enough to cover the nightmare unraveling in front of her.
Her reflection, her fangs, her burning questions—none of it mattered if she couldn't leave.
She snapped her head toward Kleo, her voice breaking into a growl.
"Safe? Then when will you let me go home?"
Her words rang sharper than she intended, fangs flashing in the low light. Heat rushed through her veins, anger mixing with panic, and for the first time she didn't care if she sounded like a cornered animal.
Ori's snarl still hung in the air, sharp as broken glass. For a beat, the only sound was her own breathing, ragged, uneven.
Kleo's eyes widened, and she immediately lifted her hands, palms out in surrender. A bead of sweat glimmered against the turquoise streak on her cheek, catching the dim light.
"Whoa, slow down! I'm not holding you here or anything! I'm in the same boat, girl!" Her voice cracked with nervous laughter, too quick, too bright. "Young vampires are not allowed into the human world until they complete their education!"
Kleo's grin wavered, but she pressed on, trying to sound reassuring. "We'll learn more details about it tonight at the orientation, I think."
Ori's shoulders sagged, her burst of fury already draining into something heavier. She pressed her lips together, realizing how sharp she must have sounded.
"Sorry…" her voice came quieter now, softer. "I don't mean to point fingers… all of this is just so confusing…" She looked at Kleo with an uncertain frown. "Kleo, right?"
Kleo's face lit up immediately, as if Ori had just handed her a gift.
"Yup!" she chirped, her grin bouncing back into place. Then, with a mischievous tilt of her head: "Speaking of which, what's your name?"
Ori blinked. For a moment, the question felt so absurdly normal—like two girls meeting in a dorm on their first night of school—that it almost made her laugh.
"I'm Ori." She exhaled, her voice softer this time. "Guess I should actually thank you for being here for me, especially since we've just met. I would definitely freak out way more if you weren't here…"
Kleo grinned wide, all warmth and confidence. "I got you, girl!"
Ori let out a slow breath of relief, her gaze wandering across the dorm.
The space was nothing like she expected from a school. It looked more like an elegant mountain lodge—wide and airy, with tall windows stretching up toward the ceiling. Moonlight streamed through the glass, painting silver across the wooden floors.
Bookshelves lined the walls, packed with heavy volumes and curious trinkets. Potted plants trailed their leaves down over the shelves, their shadows bending across the floorboards.
To one side sat a cozy living area: a broad sofa piled with cushions, a beanbag slouched lazily by a low table scattered with books. On the opposite side, two beds stood neatly made, blankets folded smooth, nightstands stacked with lamps and bottles that glimmered faintly in the dim light.
It was calm, almost welcoming—so unlike the chaos in her chest.
Ori's eyes drifted to the bookshelves. At first, they looked ordinary—heavy spines lined up in neat rows, their titles gleaming in the lamplight. But as she read them, her stomach turned.
The Psychology of Humans.
The Ultimate Guide to Becoming a Seeker.
Veridian 101.
There were dozens more, lined up as if they belonged in any regular library. And yet, to her, they felt anything but normal. It was like stepping into someone else's world entirely—a world where she was the one who didn't belong.
The more titles her eyes caught, the more surreal it became. These shelves spoke of a life, a culture, an education she'd never been part of. For the first time, Ori felt less like she'd woken from an accident and more like she'd been dropped into another universe.
Kleo lifted her arm in a carefree stretch, her voice ringing with playful determination. "We're roomies now! I can't imagine what it must be like to wake up as a whole new being. But hey—I'm here for whatever you need!"
Ori's brows knit together. Can't imagine? The words snagged in her mind. If Kleo was what she claimed—a vampire too—shouldn't she know exactly what this felt like?
Ori's expression shifted, confusion knitting across her features. She hesitated, then finally spoke, her voice cautious but insistent.
"Hold on! What do you mean you 'can't imagine'? Isn't that what happened to you???"
Kleo's smile softened, her voice dipping lower, gentler.
"Oh, well actually, I was born like this. And your case is quite special…"
Ori's lips parted, but no words came. The floor seemed to tilt under her feet as Kleo continued, her tone shifting into something more serious.
"We haven't seen anyone being forced to reborn in… maybe a few thousand years?"
Kleo's words landed heavy, but Ori couldn't quite grasp them. A few thousand years? The phrase circled in her head like an echo with no meaning. It was too much, all at once.
Ori's head was spinning, every word Kleo said stacking heavier on the dizziness already clawing at her. Her teeth ached with that dull, throbbing soreness, and her sharpened senses made the room feel too bright, too loud, too much.
"W… wait, what?!" she stammered, her voice cracking under the weight of it. Her wide red eyes locked on Kleo, alarm rising in her chest.
"Forced to reborn? What the hell does that mean?!"
Her voice trembled between panic and disbelief, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
In the corner of the living room, a strange object suddenly came to life. Ori was certain it hadn't been glowing before.
It looked like a glass sphere mounted on a sleek metal base, wires feeding into the floor beneath. Within the globe, rings of light spun and overlapped in patterns far too precise to be random, like an entire constellation trapped inside. The hum it gave off wasn't just a sound—it was a vibration Ori felt in her chest, like the thrum of distant engines or the beat of giant wings.
As it brightened, cubes of white light lifted from the orb's surface, rising like fireflies but moving with mechanical precision, scattering across the room before fading into the air. The buzzing deepened into an announcement tone, heavy enough to rattle the bookshelves.
Then, without warning, a warm, calm, almost motherly female voice drifted from the device, soft yet powerful, wrapping around Ori like invisible hands:
"20 minutes before beginning of the first session."
Ori instinctively stepped back, her eyes locked on the glowing orb as the last echo of the announcement faded into the quiet of the dorm. Her pulse quickened, the strange vibration still lingering in her bones.
Kleo, on the other hand, didn't seem fazed at all. She tilted her head toward the device, lips curving into an easy smile, as if the thing had just told them the weather.
"See? You'll get your answers soon, roomie," she said, her voice breezy, though there was a spark of excitement dancing in her eyes. "But for now—we'd better hurry up. The classes are about to start!"
Without waiting for Ori to respond, Kleo spun on her heel and disappeared into a side door. Ori hesitated, the faint buzz of the strange device still rattling in her chest, before realizing it was just… a closet.
Rustling echoed from within, followed by the sound of hangers scraping along a metal rod. In seconds, Kleo emerged with an armful of neatly folded clothes—identical sets, all in dark fabric with crisp, clean lines. They looked more like some kind of uniform than casual wear.
"Here," Kleo said, tossing a bundle toward Ori with practiced ease.
"Put this on."