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The scream was silent, a psychic shiver that tore me from a dream of falling. My eyes snapped open to the familiar, faintly glowing stars on my ceiling. Not a nightmare. Something else. A pressure. A presence. It felt like static electricity crawling over my skin, a weight in the air that didn't belong.
Welcome to my new normal.
I'd been in Pine Valley for two weeks, and this was the fourth time I'd woken up like this—heart hammering, senses screaming that something was in the room with me. I slowly turned my head, scanning the shadows cast by my cheap desk lamp I now left on 24/7. Nothing. Of course, nothing. There was never anything to see. Just a feeling. The feeling of being a single, warm spotlight in a vast, cold, and very curious ocean.
A floorboard creaked right outside my door.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. This was new. The creak was followed by the slow, deliberate turn of my doorknob. This was it. This was how I died. Eaten by the bogeyman in a town no one had ever heard of.
The door swung open.
"Alex! For heaven's sake, are you still asleep?"
The tension shattered like glass. I slumped back into my mattress, a wave of pure relief washing over me so hard it left me dizzy. It was just my mom, her hair a messy bun, holding a laundry basket on her hip.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, frowning as she placed a stack of freshly folded clothes on my chair.
You have no idea. "Bad dream," I croaked out, the lie tasting like ash.
"Well, shake it off. You can't be late for your first day at the college. This is a big opportunity for you." She gave me one more worried look before heading out. "Pancakes in ten. Don't make me come back up here."
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone again with the silence and the static. I sat up, rubbing my hands over my face. Right. First day at Pine Valley Community College. A high school student in a college classroom. Because apparently, being academically "gifted" also meant being socially ostracized and a beacon for the unexplained.
That's when I felt it. A shift. A… focus.
You're here.
I mean, I knew you were coming. There's a script, or an outline, or whatever you want to call it. But feeling your attention is… weird. It's like knowing you're on a stage with the house lights down, but you can feel a thousand eyes on you in the dark.
So, let's cut the crap, huh? The writer's trying to build "atmosphere" with the whole spooky waking-up thing, and yeah, it's a real issue, I'll get to that. But first, introductions. Since you're here for the long haul—and you better be, my fictional livelihood depends on your reading habits—we might as well be on a first-name basis.
I'm Alex. The guy with a face so average it's basically a placeholder. My life's goal, until recently, was to get through high school without any major embarrassments. Now? Now my goal is to get through the day without getting my soul sucked out by a spectral entity or accidentally summoning a demon in the cafeteria.
My family moved to this picturesque little hellhole two weeks ago. Pine Valley. Sounds charming, right? All quaint shops and towering pines. What the tourism board doesn't mention is the way the fog clings a little too tightly to the ground, or how the local legends aren't so much legends as they are… weekly occurrences. And for reasons I don't understand, I'm the main event. It's like I'm broadcasting on a frequency only the dead and the dreadful can hear.
My one hope? This place has a Supernatural Club. I looked it up online. I figured, who better to help me understand what's happening to me than the people who actively go looking for it? It was my one, desperate plan. My lifeline.
Oh, how naive I was.
"Aleex! Pancakes! Now! They're getting cold!" My mom's voice, a beacon of normalcy, sliced through my thoughts and the lingering static both.
Right. Pancakes. A moment of peace before the storm.
Alright, audience, that's your cue. The opening monologue is over. The story's starting. I've got to go downstairs, force down some syrup-drenched carbs while pretending everything is fine for my parents, and then march bravely into what I'm sure will be a meticulously planned disaster.
You? You just sit back, relax, and try not to judge me too hard for the choices I'm about to make. And for the love of all that is holy, if you're enjoying the show, do whatever it is you do—click, follow, vote, leave a nice comment. The writer has bills to pay, and let's be honest, you're probably not paying for this. The least you can do is help him afford a decent latte. It might put him in a good mood so he doesn't decide to have a werewolf eat me in Chapter 5.
Stay tuned. This is going to be a weird one.
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The pancakes were excellent. My mom makes them from scratch, and the smell alone could probably ward off lesser demons. Or at least, that's what I hoped as I drowned my stack in syrup, trying to use the familiar, sweet comfort as a shield against the gnawing dread in my gut.
My dad, already buried in his newspaper, peered over the top of it. "Nervous, son?"
"You have no idea," I muttered, staring at a particularly absorbent piece of pancake.
"First days are always tough. Just remember to smile, sit in the front row, and introduce yourself to someone new." He offered a reassuring smile, so blissfully unaware of the metaphysical storm cloud following his only child that it was almost painful.
Right. Smile. Front row. Introduce myself. I'm pretty sure the only person who'd want an introduction from me in this town would be a ghost looking for a permanent energy source.
"Did you pack your lunch? I put an extra juice box in there," my mom said, fussing with my backpack. "And your schedule is in the front pocket. And a spare pen. And some tissues, just in case."
"Mom, I'm going to college, not kindergarten," I sighed, but I didn't stop her. The normalcy of her mother-henning was a lifeline. If I focused hard enough on her worrying about juice boxes, I could almost ignore the way the kitchen light flickered every time I walked past it.
After what felt like both an eternity and a single, fleeting moment, I found myself standing on our front porch, backpack slung over one shoulder. The morning air in Pine Valley was cool and carried the scent of pine and damp earth. It would be peaceful if it wasn't so... watchful. The towering trees that surrounded our property seemed to lean in, their branches creating a canopy that felt more like a cage than a scenic view.
"Okay, folks," I mumbled under my breath, a habit I was quickly developing thanks to your ever-present audience. "The journey begins. Let's see what fresh horror this day has in store."
The walk to campus was a twenty-minute masterclass in low-grade paranoia. A crow followed me from tree to tree, its black eyes fixed on me with an unusual intensity. A dog behind a fence didn't bark; it just whined and backed away as I passed. And the entire time, that static feeling—the one I'd woken up with—hummed just beneath my skin, a constant, low-level vibration that was my personal supernatural Geiger counter.
Pine Valley Community College was… a campus. There were brick buildings, patches of green lawn, and students milling about. It looked disarmingly normal. But then I felt it. A pull. A slight, almost magnetic tug in my chest, guiding me away from the main flow of foot traffic toward a quieter, older building tucked away near the edge of the forest. The sign out front was weathered, the letters faint: "Carson Hall."
This was it. According to the campus map, this was where most of the smaller clubs had their offices. And in the basement, room B-07, was the Pine Valley Supernatural Club.
I stood outside the heavy wooden door for a full minute, just breathing. I could do this. I would walk in, introduce myself, and find some answers. Maybe they'd have books. Or experts. Or holy water. I took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped into chaos.
The room was a cluttered explosion of the paranormal. One wall was covered in a massive, detailed map of the town, peppered with colored pins and string. Another was a whiteboard covered in complex equations and phrases like "Ley Line Convergence?" and "Ectoplasmic Residue - Type 3." Shelves were crammed with everything from high-tech EMF meters and digital voice recorders to dusty old tomes and what looked suspiciously like a genuine human skull wearing a sombrero.
And in the center of it all, standing on a stepladder to reach the top of the whiteboard, was him.
He was dressed in a form-fitting black tracksuit with pink stripes down the sides, an outfit that should have looked sporty but instead highlighted a figure that was confusingly, undeniably curvy. Deep hips, a noticeably full backside, and thick thighs were all on display as he stretched to erase something. Long, light-brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, and I could see a dusting of freckles across his nose from my angle below.
He finished erasing and hopped down from the ladder with a practiced grace, landing softly on the worn carpet. He turned, and his large, brown eyes locked onto me. They swept from my scuffed sneakers to my hopelessly ordinary face, and a slow, smug smirk spread across his lips.
"Well, well," he said, his voice a deadpan, boyish drawl that didn't match his appearance at all. "What do we have here? A lost little freshman?"
"I, uh..." I stammered, my well-rehearsed introduction flying out of my head. The static in my bones was buzzing louder here, a steady hum that felt like it was resonating with the room itself.
He took a few steps forward, closing the distance. He smelled faintly of peaches. "Let me guess. You saw a ghost in your dorm, your girlfriend got possessed, you want us to help you contact your dead goldfish?" He circled me slowly, like a shark. "We get a lot of those."
"No, it's nothing like that," I managed to say, trying to keep my eyes from following his… everything. "My name is Alex. I'm new in town. I think… I think I might have a… problem."
He stopped in front of me, his smirk widening. "A problem? Honey, this whole town is a problem. I'm Lexi. Vance." He jerked a thumb towards himself. "Club president. And your problem is now my favorite kind of problem: a new one."
Before I could ask what that meant, the door burst open again.
"Lexi! You will not BELIEVE the energy readings I was getting from the forest edge! It was totally spiking and—oh!"
A whirlwind of scruffy blonde hair and an oversized black hoodie with a cartoon ghost on it blew into the room. He was short, maybe 5'1", with mischievous eyes lined with a hint of eyeliner and glossy lips currently formed into a perfect 'O' of surprise. He smelled like strawberries.
"Oooh! A visitor!" he practically squealed, zooming over to us. His eyes, a bright, almond shape, scanned me up and down with an intensity that made Lexi's look casual. "Hi! I'm Yuki! Are you here to join? Are you a psychic? Can you bend spoons? You're kinda cute for a freshman!"
"Yuki, contain yourself. You're scaring the normie," Lexi said, though he sounded amused.
"But Lexi! Look at him! He's got this... this aura!" Yuki said, leaning in way too close. "It's all tingly and bright! I can feel it from here!"
That got Lexi's full attention. His smug expression shifted into one of genuine, sharp interest. "Is that so?" he murmured, looking at me like I'd just transformed from a lost freshman into a newly discovered cryptid.
The static was now a dull roar in my ears. This was a mistake. A huge, colossal mistake. These weren't seasoned experts. They were… chaotic. And they were already focusing on me with an intensity that felt dangerous.
Yuki grinned, a fox-like expression full of promise and trouble. "Don't worry, new guy. We'll take good care of you. The Supernatural Club is the best place for a cute little brother like you."
Lexi nodded, his smirk returning full force. "He's right. Something tells me you're going to fit in here perfectly, Alex." He placed a hand on my shoulder, and for a second, the buzzing static in my bones sharpened into a single, clear note. "Welcome to the P.V.S.C. Your life is about to get very, very interesting."
I had a sinking feeling that "interesting" was the biggest understatement I would ever hear.
Before I could process the word "interesting" or the fact that Yuki was now literally sniffing the air around me like a bloodhound, the door opened a third time. This opening was slower, more deliberate, and the person who stepped through seemed to suck all the chaotic energy out of the room and replace it with a calm, warm pressure.
He was tall. Seriously tall, easily clearing six feet, making me feel like a garden gnome in comparison. Long, dark brown hair cascaded down his back like a silken waterfall, reaching all the way to his—wow. Okay. He had what could only be described as a Pixar mom build, with hips that curved dramatically and a rear end that was… academically impressive, all encased in faded, tight mom jeans. A soft, bronze complexion contrasted with eyes the color of rust or dried blood, but they held a warmth that was immediately soothing. He held a steaming mug in one hand and smelled like a high-end coffee shop.
"Am I interrupting a ritual?" he asked, his voice a soft, gentle alto that washed over the room. His gaze landed on me, and those rust-red eyes softened even further, crinkling at the corners. "Oh, hello. You're new."
"This is Sage," Lexi said, his tone shifting from smug to something resembling respect. "Our tech expert and den mother. Sage, this is Alex. He says he has a 'problem'."
Sage's eyebrows lifted slightly. He took a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving me. "A problem?" he repeated, setting the mug down on a cluttered desk. "Well, you've come to the right place. Most of Pine Valley's problems tend to be of the… unusual variety."
Yuki bounced on the balls of his feet. "Sage, you should feel his aura! It's crazy! It's like a big, warm, fuzzy magnet!"
"A magnet, you say?" Sage murmured, taking a step closer. He didn't circle me like Lexi or invade my space like Yuki. He just stood there, looking down at me with an expression of deep, unsettling care. "Are you feeling unwell, Alex? Trouble sleeping? A sense of being watched?"
My mouth was dry. It was like he was reading from a checklist of my personal hell. "All of the above," I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Sage nodded slowly, a knowing look in his eyes. "I see." He reached out, and for a heart-stopping moment I thought he was going to touch my face, but he just gently adjusted the strap of my backpack on my shoulder. "You're safe here. We'll help you figure this out."
Lexi clapped his hands together, the sound making me jump. "Excellent! A live one! This is much better than another week of analyzing dust orbs. Okay, new protocol. We need a baseline reading. Yuki, get the EMF meters and the full-spectrum camera. Sage, pull the environmental logs for the last month. I want to see if there have been any energy surges that correlate with our new friend's arrival in town."
They moved with a sudden, practiced efficiency, a well-oiled machine that had just found a fascinating new gear to grind. I stood there, rooted to the spot, feeling like a specimen on a slide.
"Uh, a baseline for what?" I asked, my voice sounding small.
"For you, of course," Lexi said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He was typing rapidly on a laptop, a new, focused energy about him. "Your 'problem' isn't a ghost, Alex. It's you. You're the source. You're emitting a low-level, yet incredibly attractive, psychic frequency. We just need to measure its range, intensity, and what, exactly, it's attracting."
My blood ran cold. "Attracting? What is it attracting?"
Lexi looked up from his screen, that infuriatingly smug smirk back in place. "Why do you think you feel like you're being watched? It's not paranoia if they're really there. You're a five-star restaurant, and every supernatural entity in Pine Valley just got the menu."
Yuki skipped back over, arms laden with blinking electronic devices. "Don't worry, Alex! We'll protect you! It'll be fun! We can have sleepovers and watch horror movies and I can teach you how to use a spirit board!"
Sage placed a comforting, and yet strangely possessive, hand on my other shoulder. The contact was warm, solid. "We'll take things at your pace," he said softly. "But you must understand, you can't handle this alone. You need us."
And that was the moment it truly sank in. I hadn't found a solution. I hadn't found protectors. I had walked into a lion's den and three very different, very attractive, and very dangerous lions had just decided I was their new favorite toy.
Lexi, with his sharp mind and sharper smirk, saw me as a puzzle.
Yuki,with his boundless energy and filthy mind, saw me as a new playmate.
Sage,with his gentle voice and iron-clad maternal instinct, saw me as something to be cared for and kept.
The static in my bones wasn't a warning to run from this room. It was a warning that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, for better or worse. Probably worse.
"Okay, Alex," Lexi said, snapping a fresh pair of latex gloves onto his hands with a theatrical flick. "Let's begin. First, we need a saliva sample. For… science."
Yuki giggled. "Ooh, I'll hold the cup!"
Sage just smiled that soft, dangerous smile. "It's going to be alright. You're one of us now."
As I looked at the three of them—the smug leader, the energetic pervert, and the caring mom—all staring at me with expressions of pure, unadulterated obsession, I knew one thing for certain.
My life was over. And it had only just begun.
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To Be Continue...