Rejected by the Beta, Claimed by the Alpha

Chapter 149: Horror Town

CLARK POV:

The campus was massive.

And when I say massive, I mean get-lost-and-die-of-old-age-before-you-find-the-dorms-again kind of massive. The buildings were arranged like someone had handed an architect a puzzle with missing pieces and told them to just wing it. Halls twisted and turned like a literal maze. If I’d been alone, I probably would’ve ended up in a basement broom closet thinking it was the library.

But thankfully, Sara was a genius with directions. Seriously. She didn’t just remember where places were—she actually started pointing out shortcuts and alternate exits like she’d been here for years thanks for the map. Meanwhile, I was mentally marking trees and doors like a lost five-year-old at the mall.

Our first stop: the library.

The place was huge. Colossal. It had multiple floors—each stacked with rows and rows of books like they were trying to win a Guinness World Record. It wasn’t just a library; it was a monument to paper. As I stared up the spiral staircases, I couldn’t help but wonder: Has anyone ever actually made it to the top floor? Do you win a prize if you do? Do you see God?

Sara whispered something about wanting to come back here later, and I just nodded, still dazed by the sheer size of it. I liked books—well, sometimes—but this felt like the kind of place that expected you to be smart just to breathe the air.

Next stop: the laboratory wing.

Good lord. NASA would’ve felt underdressed in there. Sleek surfaces. Monitors humming quietly. Machines with lights that blinked like they were talking to each other in robot code. I half expected to see someone walk by in a hazmat suit, holding an alien fetus in a jar.

"This place is insane," I muttered, peeking into one of the glass-walled rooms. "If I accidentally press a button in there, I bet I’d launch a satellite."

Sara just laughed. "Better not touch anything. You might start a new Cold War."

She wasn’t wrong.

After that, we wandered through the campus gardens. Honestly? I thought it’d be the chillest spot so far. A little nature, a breeze, maybe some benches. And yeah, it looked like a place made for couples to sit and read poetry to each other. Vines curled around wrought-iron benches, and flowers were so perfectly arranged it looked artificial.

But something about the place felt... off.

Like the quiet was too quiet. The air was thick with this weird tension, like the trees were listening or watching. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it didn’t feel like a study spot. It felt like a place that pretended to be one.

"Do you feel that?" I asked.

Sara gave me a weird look. "Feel what?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Must be in my head."

But then—just as we were about to leave—we saw them.

A couple tucked behind a tall hedge, the guy clearly kissing the girl’s neck like they were in a vampire movie. Both of us just froze.

heat rush to my face. We bolted like we’d caught

Sara said between breaths, still half-laughing, "that was not the kind of tour

Who does that in broad daylight?" I shook my head.

said, laughing

agreed: it was lunch time. And we needed a break

Sara suggested. "Might as well explore the town while we can. Orientation part

to escape. Whatever this school was hiding—whether it was creepy roommates, vampire couples, or haunted libraries—it could wait till after

And maybe dessert.

town outside our

halls, ghostly gardens, overly handsome seniors with unsettling eyes—but

out of a

traffic, drunk laughter, the usual. Instead, it looked like someone had

I didn’t even

her steps a little slower than usual. "Is it just me," she whispered, "or does this place feel...

said. "I thought I was the only one expecting a zombie to lurch out

it was more nervous than amused. "It’s like the

"And it doesn’t like what

though it was daytime. A hardware shop with rusted

of them, but the ones we

just say they weren’t handing out welcome

shopfront froze when we walked by. His eyes followed us, wide and unblinking, like we were ghosts. A woman pushing a

on our foreheads that say ’sacrifice us to

laugh. "I was hoping it was just my imagination. But this

and two tables visible from outside. It didn’t look like much, but we were hungry, and the idea of heading deeper into the ghost town was... not

walked in, everything

Literally.

us. All eight of them. The restaurant wasn’t packed, but it

gave a tiny

I smiled awkwardly.

No one smiled back.

looked about late twenties—pretty in that sharp,

the university?" she

We nodded.

into a line before

figures?" I asked, trying not to

she gave us a slow once-over, her gaze lingering just a second too long, like she was evaluating how long we’d last here. Then her face

That was somehow worse.