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.

my face. We bolted like we’d caught a crime in progress, laughing

half-laughing, "that was not the kind

my head.

she said, laughing harder. "I’m

time. And we needed a break from the

"Might as well explore the town while we can. Orientation part two can wait

Whatever this school was hiding—whether it was creepy

And maybe dessert.

say "don’t judge a book by its cover"? Yeah—well, if the town outside our university was a book, I’d have burned the cover and

thought the campus was creepy—huge halls, ghostly gardens, overly

out of

traffic, drunk laughter, the usual. Instead, it looked like someone had hit "pause" on reality. The buildings were old—like, really old—stonework worn down by time and neglect. Signs were faded. Curtains in windows were drawn.

the sky looked duller here. I didn’t even know

beside me, her steps a little slower than usual. "Is it just me," she

good," I said. "I thought I was the only one expecting a zombie

it was more nervous than amused. "It’s

muttered. "And it doesn’t like what

neon letters that buzzed even though it was daytime. A hardware shop with rusted tools in the window. A pharmacy with dust on the shelves—inside. Who doesn’t clean their display

of them, but the ones

say they weren’t handing out welcome

we walked by. His eyes followed us, wide and unblinking, like we were ghosts. A woman pushing a stroller literally crossed the street when she saw us coming.

looked at Sara. "Do we have signs on our foreheads

was just my imagination. But

with a flickering "OPEN" sign in the window and two tables visible from outside. It didn’t look like much, but we were hungry, and the idea of heading deeper into

we walked in,

Literally.

at us. All eight of them. The restaurant wasn’t packed, but it might as well have been a

a tiny

I smiled awkwardly.

No one smiled back.

wiping her hands on a towel. She looked about late twenties—pretty in that sharp, angular way—but her expression wasn’t welcoming. It was tight, like her face

two from the university?"

We nodded.

into a line

I asked, trying not to

her gaze lingering just a second too long, like she was evaluating

That was somehow worse.