An alarm blared in my ears.
I didn't even know I had an alarm clock.
In a fit of rage, I buried my head under the pillow, but the ringing only grew louder, unbearable, like a blade driven into my skull. With a violent swipe of my hand, I hurled the device against the wall. It shattered with a sharp crack of plastic and glass. I was already wide awake. No point trying to fall back asleep.
I turned on my phone. A news video popped up immediately:
"After two months of closure following deadly animal attacks, Agora Hills High School is finally reopening its doors."
I muttered to myself:
"There's only one thing left to do."
I got out of bed, my body still heavy with fatigue, and headed to the bathroom. In the shower, I turned the water ice-cold. The biting spray lashed my skin, knocking the breath out of me. Last night… flashes of the previous evening's events hit me hard. The water streamed down my chest, so cold it almost burned. I was supposed to feel happy about this return to normal life. But happiness had never been synonymous with Von Tod.
The hallways of Agora Hills High were pure chaos. Dozens of students shoved and laughed too loudly, slamming locker doors. The familiar smell of teenage sweat, cheap deodorant, and new notebooks hung in the air. The new lacrosse team had been formed. By his locker, Jackson was green with jealousy — or rather furious, fists clenched, eyes murderous.
For this new school year, we were no longer in the same class as Rickie and Jackson. Good… or maybe not.
I headed to our classroom, my mind occupied with how to defuse this explosive situation. But what awaited me inside was far worse.
I pushed the door open. A sharp, authoritative female voice cracked like a whip:
— Jäher von Tod. One hour and forty-five minutes late. What do you have to say in your defense?
— Nothing, Mrs. Ramirez.
I walked to my usual seat without another glance. I leaned toward Cléo — Riven was stuck at the other end of the room — and whispered:
"What is Mrs. Ramirez cooking up for us?"
Cléo rolled her eyes.
"Salem witch."
"What does that have to do with the school curriculum?"
"Wait… how do you even know the curriculum?"
"They send it by email."
"I didn't check."
Suddenly, Ramirez's dry voice rang out:
"What are Mr. Von Tod and Miss Vondergeist talking about? Share with the whole class, please."
Cléo answered with an innocent smile:
"He just asked me what class we're having today, ma'am."
Ramirez didn't even try to understand.
"Vondergeist, come sit in the front. Even with short hair, your intelligence remains limited."
The class burst into laughter. I couldn't help but smile too. Cléo gathered her things, annoyed, and took the empty seat in front.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Ramirez told them to enter. A new student appeared. At first, I paid him no attention, my gaze lost toward the window as usual, watching the gray clouds that threatened rain.
He introduced himself in a clear voice:
"Hello everyone, my name is Jayden Spencer Park. I am Korean-New Zealander, I am 18 years old and I am happy to be here."
(In Korean: "안녕하세요 여러분, 제 이름은 제이든 스펜서 박입니다. 저는 한국-뉴질랜드 혼혈이고, 18살이며, 여기 있게 되어 기쁩니다.")
He sat down exactly where Cléo had been sitting. Then he turned to me with a crooked smile:
— Von Tod. Happy to see you.
I was surprised, but I quickly masked it.
— I see you're not dead yet.
— You're still as annoying as ever. But killing you right now would be too boring.
— If I don't kill you first.
There was no real tension in the air, only an ancient rivalry as old as the blood running through our veins.
The class ended before Ramirez had truly started. She handed out sheets with a sigh.
"Here are your respective groups for the assignment to be turned in."
Riven raised his hand.
"When do we have to submit this TD?"
"The day you least expect it."
She listed the groups. Cléo wanted to be with us, but her name came out well before ours. Then Ramirez announced:
"Riven Hartmann, group leader. Jäher von Tod. And finally… Jayden Spencer Park. That's all for today. You may leave."
The classroom emptied in a cacophony of scraping chairs and chatter. While I packed my things, Riven approached, tense.
— It's the same guy who beat me up yesterday.
— Yes.
— I'm gonna make him pay.
— You can't do anything against a wizard.
As we left, Riven stopped short.
— Wait… he's a wizard too?
— He comes from a very powerful lineage of sorcerers.
Cléo joined us, eyes narrowed.
— Who comes from a very powerful family?
Riven and I stayed silent.
— You're completely crazy, Riven said.
Cléo crossed her arms.
— You're hiding something from me. And believe me, I'll find out.
She gave us a pointed look, as if to say she would be watching us from now on.
We headed toward the field where Jackson was probably waiting. While walking, he asked me:
— Why doesn't Rickie remember the past events with us anymore? The wizards, werewolves, all that…
— I used a spell to make him forget.
— I thought only vampires could do that.
— No. Not only them.
We reached the field. Jackson (Jack) came toward us with a forced smile.
— Guys, I have good news for you.
Riven replied with fake enthusiasm:
— Speak now.
Jack dropped bitterly:
— We've officially been kicked off the team.
Riven stared at him, incredulous.
— That's your "good news"?Riven stared at Jackson, incredulous, his brows furrowed.
"That's your 'good news'? They're kicking us off the team?"
Jackson shrugged, a bitter smile on his lips, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatshirt. The cool morning breeze swept across the dew-damp grass. In the distance, the enthusiastic shouts of the new lacrosse players rang out like collective mockery.
"Yeah. Coach said we're no longer 'in the team spirit' because of the repeated absences. And after last year's animal attacks, they want a spotless image. No waves."
A cold anger rose in my chest. The smell of wet earth and freshly mown grass filled my nostrils, mixed with the distant scent of the locker rooms. Weak sunlight pierced through the gray clouds, casting long shadows across the field.
Riven clenched his fists, his eyes flickering imperceptibly toward that pale yellow he struggled to control when rage took over.
"They're kicking us out because we missed a few practices? While we were just trying to survive!"
Jackson lowered his voice, casting a quick glance around.
"It's not just that. Parents are complaining. They say weird stuff is starting again since the reopening. Claw marks on lockers. Students coming home with stories they don't want to tell. And Rickie… he's asking quite a few questions lately. Nothing serious yet, but he senses something's off."
I stiffened. Rickie didn't remember anything thanks to the spell I had cast on him, but apparently his subconscious was trying to fill in the blanks.
Cléo joined us at that moment, slightly out of breath, her short hair still damp from the shower. She immediately sensed the tension hanging in the air.
"What's going on? You all look like you're at a funeral."
Before I could answer, a familiar, mocking voice rose behind us:
"Team problems, Von Tod?"
Jayden Spencer Park approached with a casual stride, hands in his pockets, a carnivorous smile on his lips. He was already wearing the lacrosse practice jersey, as if he had always belonged. His light accent — a subtle blend of Korean and New Zealand English — made every word both melodic and dangerous.
"안녕하세요 여러분, 제 이름은 제이든 스펜서 박입니다. 저는 한국-뉴질랜드 혼혈이고, 18살이며, 여기 있게 되어 기쁩니다." he repeated with irony, mocking his own morning introduction.
I turned slowly toward him, my gaze hard.
"You already feel right at home, I see."
"Why not? Coach appreciates talent… and powerful bloodlines. Unlike certain people who get kicked out like trash."
Riven took a step forward, muscles tense. The air suddenly felt heavier, charged with invisible electricity.
"You wanna settle this now, wizard?"
Jayden raised a hand in mock innocence, but his eyes gleamed with amused menace.
"Easy, flea bag. I didn't come to fight… not yet. I just wanted to warn you: those 'animal attacks' everyone's talking about? They weren't mountain lions. And whatever caused them hasn't left. If you keep digging up graves and playing with souls, you'll wake up something far worse than me."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. The wind suddenly picked up, making the lacrosse goal nets snap in the distance. Cléo watched us one by one, frowning, clearly lost but intrigued.
"What is he talking about?" she asked, her voice low. "What graves? What souls?"
I kept silent, jaw clenched. Riven looked away slightly.
Jayden shrugged with elegant nonchalance.
"More than you think. And if you want to survive this school year… you might need an ally. Or an enemy worth your time."
He turned on his heel and walked toward the coaches' group, leaving a heavy, question-filled silence behind.
Riven spat on the ground, frustrated.
"That guy's going to cause us serious trouble."
Cléo crossed her arms, eyes narrowed.
"You're clearly hiding something from me. Graves? Souls? What the hell is this? I'm not stupid, you know."
I sighed, choosing my words carefully.
"It's not the right time, Cléo. Trust me."
She gave me a pointed look, the kind that said she wasn't going to let it go easily.
"Fine. But I'll find out eventually. And I don't like being treated like an idiot."
We remained silent for a moment. In the distance, the new players ran across the field, carefree, their joyful shouts clashing violently with the tension enveloping us. The forest bordering the school looked denser and more threatening than usual, as if it too was watching.
"We keep going anyway," I said finally, my voice firm. "We stay together. And we keep an eye on Jayden… before he keeps one on us first."
The end-of-break bell rang shrilly in the distance, sharp and relentless. None of us moved immediately. The illusion of a normal school year had just shattered.