The car stopped in front of the tall iron gates of Blackthorn Boarding College.
Rain dripped slowly from the dark clouds above, tapping against the car roof in a steady rhythm. The road behind them was empty, stretching back into a foggy distance as if the world outside had already forgotten this place.
"You'll be fine here," his father said.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
The boy stared at the massive iron gates ahead. They were taller than he expected, twisted with old metal vines and sharp points at the top. Beyond them stood the boarding college—an enormous stone building rising out of the mist like something forgotten by time.
The windows were dark.
Most of them, at least.
A few faint lights glowed from the upper floors, weak and yellow, barely visible through the rain.
The boy tightened his grip on the strap of his bag. His fingers felt cold even inside the car.
"How long will I stay?" he asked quietly.
His father didn't answer.
Instead, the man opened the car door and stepped out into the rain. Water immediately soaked into his coat as he walked around the car and opened the trunk.
The boy stayed inside for a moment longer, hoping—maybe stupidly—that his father would say something else.
Anything.
But there was only the sound of rain.
Finally, he stepped out.
Cold air wrapped around him instantly. The rain smelled strange here, mixed with damp leaves and old stone. The ground beneath his shoes was covered with gravel that crunched softly as he moved.
His father placed a suitcase beside him and shut the trunk.
"That's all your things," he said.
The boy nodded slowly.
The silence between them stretched.
He looked up at his father's face, trying to read something there. Regret. Hesitation. Doubt.
But his father's expression was the same as always.
Distant.
"Classes start tomorrow," his father continued. "The dorm supervisor will show you your room."
"You're not coming inside?" the boy asked.
His father shook his head.
"I have work."
Of course he did.
The boy swallowed the tight feeling rising in his throat.
"Okay."
For a brief moment, neither of them moved. The rain grew heavier, pattering against the gravel and dripping from the iron gate.
Then his father stepped back toward the car.
The boy felt something inside his chest twist.
"Wait," he said suddenly.
His father paused with his hand on the car door.
"When will you visit?"
The question hung in the air.
For a moment, the rain was the only thing making noise in the quiet road.
His father didn't turn around.
"You'll be busy here," he said.
And then he got into the car.
The engine started with a low growl.
Headlights cut through the fog as the car slowly turned around on the narrow road.
The boy stood there, rain soaking through his clothes, watching the only person he had left drive away.
The red taillights faded into the mist.
Within seconds, the road was empty again.
Gone.
Just like that.
The boy stood still for a long time, staring at the place where the car had disappeared.
"My father always said people leave eventually," he murmured to himself.
"I just didn't think he meant himself."
A loud metallic creak suddenly echoed in front of him.
The boy looked up.
The iron gates of Blackthorn Boarding College were opening.
Slowly.
He frowned. He hadn't touched them.
The gates continued to swing inward with a long, dragging groan, revealing a narrow stone path leading toward the enormous building beyond.
Wind rustled through the trees lining the path.
For a moment, the place felt… wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
As if the school itself had been waiting.
The boy picked up his suitcase and stepped forward cautiously.
The gravel path stretched across a wide courtyard covered in wet grass and dark trees. The building ahead towered above everything else—four stories of gray stone, sharp roofs, and endless windows.
It looked more like an old castle than a school.
A single light flickered above the main entrance.
He walked toward it.
Halfway across the courtyard, he felt something strange.
Like someone was watching him.
The boy stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned his head and looked up at the building.
Most of the windows were dark.
But one of them—
On the third floor.
There was someone standing there.
A figure.
Tall and still, barely visible behind the rain-covered glass.
The boy squinted, trying to see more clearly.
The figure didn't move.
It was just… watching him.
A chill ran down his spine.
Then lightning flashed across the sky.
For a split second, the courtyard was filled with bright white light.
And in that instant, he saw the figure clearly.
It was a boy.
Pale.
Expressionless.
And staring directly at him.
The lightning vanished.
Darkness swallowed the building again.
When the boy looked back at the window—
The figure was gone.
Only rain slid down the glass now.
The boy stood frozen in the courtyard, his suitcase slipping slightly from his grip.
"Great," he muttered quietly.
"First night here and I'm already imagining things."
But deep down, he knew one thing for certain.
Someone had been watching him.
And somehow…
He had the feeling this school already knew he was here.