Chapter 144: Shaken Up Roomie

Clark POV:

What was it with these upperclassmen and their habit of staring like they wanted to eat me or recruit me into a cult?

I stepped back. Just once. Enough to put a breath of space between us.

"Which way to West Hall?" I asked, pointing down the twin hallways like a kid asking which door leads to safety and which to the trap.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he took a slow step forward, his shoes silent on the stone floor.

Then another.

Then he was close—closer than comfortable.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he leaned down slightly, face inches from mine.

"Whichever way you walk..." he murmured, "you’ll still end up where the house wants you to go."

I blinked. "The house?"

He looked around, his expression shifting from mild amusement to something almost reverent. "Memoville. The school. This place... it listens. It chooses. You don’t find a room here. A room finds you."

Okay. That was enough.

The guy was clearly high or one of those creepy drama club types who never broke character.

I gave him a tight smile and started to edge around him. "Cool story, man. Appreciate the ominous vibes."

He didn’t stop me, but he did whisper one last thing as I passed:

"Try not to bleed, little lamb. They can smell it."

My feet froze for half a second before I forced myself to walk.

Walk.

Do not run.

You never run when the predator is still watching.

I picked the right hallway—at least, I think I did. The walls started to have signs again, and after what felt like an hour, I found a wooden door with West Hall Dormitory scrawled above it in gothic lettering.

304. That

into my pocket for the keycard, I couldn’t help but look

Nothing. Just the hallway.

tall guy. No rush

Just silence.

When I swiped the keycard, the red light blinked, then green. The click of the lock echoed louder than it should

wardrobe. Everything was clean, untouched. But one bed was already made up. Neatly. Military style. With a duffel bag sitting at

had already

of the bed... he was

Creepy.

bag on the other mattress, sat down, and let out a breath I didn’t

is going on

glowing eyes, to staff

like he’s auditioning for a villain role

all

I needed her

if she’d mock me for

most of all, I needed to make sure whatever I’d hacked into... hadn’t landed me

looked toward the

the sun was

sky was turning

Like a warning.

Like blood in water.

I could swear I heard something

*********

up on my phone, breaking the tension I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. Apparently, due to the massive influx of students, the registration was still ongoing. They’d postponed the orientation until tomorrow morning, after everyone was registered and placed properly in the system. Great. More time to unpack, I thought, rolling my eyes. Maybe

pillows meticulously, trying to focus on something mundane, but my mind kept wandering. I should have been used to these kinds of spaces by now. New rooms, new faces, new places to hack, but the odd energy of the campus was getting to me. The eerie way the hallway seemed to stretch on

drawer, I heard it—a sharp knock at the door, followed by

up, man! Open up...! Oh God—OH GOD, open

fingers fumbled, my pulse picking up with the urgency in the voice outside. I wasn’t sure if it was a joke, some kind of prank, but I couldn’t

I could even ask what was going on, the figure bolted inside, slamming the door behind him with a force that made the walls shake. I blinked, stunned, as the guy huddled against the

than me—and... too pretty for a guy. His features were delicate, almost feminine. He looked like someone who belonged on a runway, not in a dorm room. His pale skin shimmered under the fluorescent lights, and his eyes were wide—wide

features or the sense that he didn’t quite fit in here. It was the way his body shook, trembled with fear.

eye as he stumbled across the room—one on his shirt collar, the other just beneath his shoulder. It was fresh

trouble? Was he attacked?

crawled onto the made-up bed across from mine, his body curling into itself. He looked like a child,

had happened

do. Should I help him? Call someone? I didn’t know if he was in trouble or if he was the

alright?" I asked, my voice quieter than I

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