Nocticadia: A Dark Academia Gothic Romance
Nocticadia: Chapter 16

An impressive building, with multiple pillars that reminded me of something out of Washington D.C., identified the campus library where I’d been assigned work-study duties. Once past security and the metal detector, a soaring vaulted ceiling, adorned in gorgeous frescos of angels in battle, seized my attention as I entered the open space. Balconies stood at either side, converging into a winding staircase at the center of the main floor. I’d heard there were multiple levels, with an impressive gallery of baroque paintings and artifacts in the library’s attic. I’d also heard of other things known to go down in the attic—a hotspot for campus hookups, so I’d have to be careful venturing up there. Fancy chandeliers loomed over long hardwood tables, which made up plenty of study spots, each with multiple desk lamps, outlets, and pencil cups.

I’d always had to carve out times in the day when no one was around to get any quiet study. Yet, there, I could’ve heard a pin drop.

I followed the signs to the second level, passing private little study nooks–tables amid walls of bookshelves. The upward path led me to the beautiful rotunda room, where white marble floors and banisters gave a bright contrast to the dark wood of the other rooms. Impressively carved stone heads on pillars stood about the room in small alcoves, giving it a Romanesque look. Through the windows of the Adderly memorial room, I took in the gorgeous view of the yard, with its magnificent oaks I imagined would soon be snow-covered, making for a cozy scene. The room itself held the history of Dracadia, from what I could gather of old photographs and glass cases that held artifacts. I looked forward to perusing more of the school’s history when I got the chance.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many secret places this magical school held. I could’ve probably attended for years, and I’d never explore the many wonders of it all. The more I saw, the more I wanted to see and know.

As I entered the Stirling room, dedicated to science texts, I found an older man, with dark skin and graying hair, reaching to place a book onto the shelf over his head.

“Excuse me,” I said on approaching. “I’m looking for Kelvin Reed?”

The man spun around, his spectacles halfway down his nose as he regarded me with a tip of his chin. “I’m Kelvin Reed.” The articulate nature of his voice matched his appearance of sweater vest over a gray shirt, looking like a lifelong academic.

Smiling, I gave a respectful nod. “Lilia. I was assigned work study here.”

“Ah, yes. Miss Vespertine. Very good to meet you. I’m the Master Librarian for the Adderly Memorial and Stirling Science wing.” Truly, I could’ve listened to the man talk for hours, his voice was so pleasant to the ear. “I’m assuming you’ve acquainted yourself with the Adderly Memorial room already?”

“Yes. Is that the same Adderly as the statue in Thresher Bay?”

“It is. Lord Commodore Adderly was a widely respected pillar of Dracadian history.” His comment brought to mind Mel’s irritation over the memorial. Maybe I’d learn what had brought her to those opinions.

“I’m looking forward to learning more about the history of the school.”

“Well, you’re in luck. It so happens to be a requirement for working in this department. It’s our duty to preserve the precious texts we managed to recover from Adderly’s ship. So, your job for the next week is to familiarize yourself with our history so that you might be a resource to others.”

“Would I have access to these texts, as well?”

Brows knitted, he sighed. “For the most part. Some texts are restricted and require certain permissions to access.”

Those were suddenly the ones that piqued my curiosity most.

With a nod, I followed Kelvin back to the Memorial room, which was decorated to look like something out of an old ship, with all the nautical details–ropes with thick knots, a porthole, and oars. Perhaps items they’d recovered from Adderly’s ship.

“We’ll start here,” Kelvin said, gesturing to the many books in the room. “Leave any books that you read on the table. I’ll take care of them. It’s important they return to their proper places.”

“Got it. I just … spend the couple hours I’m here reading?”

“Yes, exactly.”

I couldn’t have picked a more perfect job. Except maybe one that required sleeping.

Kelvin left, and I perused the room, looking for an interesting place to start. I came to a halt before a painting of a woman with fiery auburn hair. She wore a plain white dress and held white lilies in her hand. The name below read Sister Mary Elizabeth, though she didn’t wear any religious garb in the painting. Beneath the painting a thick book sat cracked open on a table lectern, a bible given the looks of it. Romans 12:17 had been underlined: Do not repay anyone evil for evil.

Another glance at the woman drew me into staring at her. How much she reminded me of my mother. I nabbed one of the books from the shelf beside her painting and sat down at the table near the window.

According to the text, she’d come to Dracadia as a young nun to care and watch over those deemed mentally unsound and exiled to the monastery. The book described her as a kind and benevolent woman, particularly admired by Dr. Nathaniel Stirling.

The book included a picture of the doctor, known for wearing the infamous plague doctor uniform while caring for his patients, whom he believed were infected by bad spirits. An unsettling shiver coiled down my spine as I stared at his image on the page, in his beaked mask and long black cape. The sight of him must have given his patients nightmares. It seemed the science wing had been named after him, based on him having unwittingly discovered Stirlic acid, an antiseptic made from the Jestwood plant. It had apparently changed the outcome of surgeries he’d performed, and he’d been hailed the godfather of sterilization.

Except, he’d employed his discovery in a much more sinister way when banishing evil from his patients.

I found myself immersed in the history of the monastery as something of an early mental institution, where patients had been subjected to a number of experiments to exorcise the so-called bad spirits from their bodies.

By the time I finally broke my concentration, I noticed it was already dark outside. A glance at my watch showed that I’d stayed over an hour past my work study time.

“Shit,” I muttered, placing the books in a neat stack on the table, as Kelvin had requested. I gathered up my book bag and twisted around, knocking into the person behind me on an explosion of papers that flew up into the air before scattering over the marble floors.

“Oh, my!” Dr. Langmore stepped back, adjusting his spectacles. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss Vespertine.”

Cheeks red with humiliation, I dropped to the floor and gathered his fallen papers into a somewhat messy pile. “It’s my fault, Sir. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I pushed to my feet and handed off the stack, which he received on a smile.

“Please, I insist on sharing half the blame.”

“I was just leaving. My work study shift ended an hour ago.”

“Ah! Ambitious. We like that.” His gaze skated toward the window and back. “It’s fairly dark outside. Will you be walking alone?”

“Um. Yeah. My dorm isn’t far.”

His eyes squinted with unease. “Still, I would advise caution.”

“Of course.” Movement beyond him caught my attention, and I looked past Langmore to replace a shadowy man striding toward us, his eyes scrutinizing as he entered the memorial room.

Clearing his throat, Langmore seemed to follow the path of my gaze, twisting around toward Professor Bramwell. Seemed the man’s intimidation radius was fairly broad, as even the dean appeared somewhat uncomfortable in his presence. “Yes, well. Take care, Miss. I’ve a staff meeting.”

“Sure,” I said, still caught up in my staring. When Bramwell’s gaze flicked to mine, I finally broke my ogling and lifted my bag up onto my shoulder.

Bramwell didn’t say a word to me as he passed, in spite of my polite nod and smile, which quickly faded when I turned away.

What an asshole. It was a wonder he saw anything past his own nose.

With that, I made my way toward the exit.

The moon shone high in the sky as I hoofed my way across the courtyard. For the most part, the campus seemed to have settled in for the night, though a few students still bustled about. I’d survived the first day, and even in spite of the crappy moments, I’d enjoyed it. For all its faults, the school had a dark magic about it. The history, the architecture, the mystery of the campus and its people–it spoke to me and inspired a longing to drink it all in.

Such a sense of belonging was foreign to me. Even though I hadn’t been born into wealth, like most of the students, there was so much to Dracadia that went beyond old money. It existed in its own little pocket of intrigue, like stories of Pan and worlds far beyond.

To imagine that I’d become part of its fabric had yet to sink in.

Vigilantly scanning my surroundings, I skittered toward the shallow stretch of woods that separated my dorm from the others in the square.

“Lilia,” a voice whispered from behind, and I startled.

Turning around showed nothing more than tree branches swaying in the breeze. I scanned over the courtyard, eyeing two students off in the distance. Another hustling toward a dorm.

As I turned back to my path, something caught my eye on the other side of an oak tree. A dark figure that I had to squint to see in the dim light given off by the streetlamp halfway between me and the tree. A long, black cloak. A long, beaked nose. Two black holes for eyes.

The plague doctor mask I’d seen.

On a gasp, I spun back around, straight into the wall of a human being standing behind me.

“Whoa!” Spencer chuckled, grabbing my arms as I crashed into him. “Someone’s in a hurry.”

“I saw some–” I twisted back toward the tree, replaceing nothing there. A longer scan showed not even the students from before. “There was someone by the tree. I … I swear I saw …”

“You really shouldn’t be out walking alone. I know you said you’re all about giving people the benefit of the doubt, but some people are just assholes.”

Muscles sagging on a sigh of relief, I turned back to him. “Are you?”

“An asshole? I thought we already established that I was.” On a snort, he knocked my arm. “C’mon. I’ll walk with you. Where are we going?”

“Crixson.”

“Ahh. Crixson. Get used to seeing things that aren’t there.”

I hated to admit, I was a small bit relieved to have company on my walk. Dracadia wasn’t Covington, not by a long stretch, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t crimeless, either. “So, what makes you think you’re so safe to walk around by yourself?” I craned my neck, searching for the figure behind us.

“This is where you see if I insert something sexist, right? Tell you it’s because I’m a guy?”

“I don’t know. Is it?”

“The truth is, I stayed late training. Otherwise, I’d be stuck back at my room watching Big Bang Theory reruns with my roommate.”

I chuckled at the visual of that. “That sounds exciting.”

“Riveting. Where are you coming from?”

School flags rippled in a light breeze that scattered my hair around my face. Every sound seemed to catch my attention, as I kept stealing glances over my shoulder, the unsettling feeling still vibrating my bones.

“Work study,” I said, trying to tame the wild strands ticking my cheek.

“Cool. Where’d you get assigned?”

“Library.” Damn the strand that slipped into my mouth, heightening my irritation. My hair had always been wild and unruly, but add a bit of wind? It had a mind of its own.

“I was assigned there last semester. I got kitchen duty this semester.”

Slapped with surprise, I frowned. “You …. You’re in work study?” I’d always had the impression that only kids who couldn’t afford school got placed there.

The shallow forest just before my dorm seemed darker tonight, the trees even creepier for some reason, and again, I was reluctant to admit that I appreciated Spencer’s company.

“Yeah. Oh, wait … is this where you insert something about rich kids being brats?” He chuckled, loosening the accusatory tone in his voice.

“I guess I’m a little guilty of passing judgment.”

“I guess,” he said, as we finally reached the front of my dorm.

“Thanks for walking me.”

“Anytime.” He brushed his finger over my hand, and on reflex I jerked back, clearing my throat to cover up the slight gasp that escaped me.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he flattened his lips and took a step back, either offended or embarrassed by my reaction. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I’m … sorry. ‘Night.”

I didn’t have much experience with friendships. Male friends, in particular. I’d had too much going on at home to pay attention to guys my age, and the few times I had gotten involved with them, it certainly wasn’t friendly. Every exchange with Spencer just felt awkward and forced on my part. I’d barely been cordial with the poor guy.

So, why the hell did he bother?

As I entered the dorm, I passed the lounge and caught sight of the TV, where a news report brought me to a skidding halt.

Namely, the face that popped up on the screen

Angelo.

Frowning, I darted toward the lounge, just catching the news anchor talking about some billionaire CEO who’d been found brutally slain a few days ago. For a moment, I slipped into an alternate reality, thinking it might’ve been Angelo who’d killed him, but the report went on to say that he was wanted for questioning.

“Authorities believe Angelo DeLuca may have had dealings with a cult and is considered armed and dangerous.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. With shaky hands, I tucked myself into a quiet corner and dialed Conner, biting my nail while waiting for him to answer.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Did you see the news? They’re saying Angelo was involved in that rich guy’s murder!” I whisper yelled, the panic in my throat squeezing the words.

“Nah, wasn’t him. He’s been here the whole time. Poor asshole’s freaking the fuck out over it. One of his cop buddies said Angelo’s name was written in blood on the wall. He thinks he’s marked by someone, but he won’t say who.”

“And what’s this cult they’re talking about?”

The sound of Conner’s long exhale crackled through the phone. “Some sadist group. They call themselves Schadenfreude—but don’t go repeating that. They’re dangerous, according to Angelo. Asshole didn’t even want to tell me about them, at first.”

“Sadist?” I lowered my voice even more. “Like … torturing people?”

The moment he said, “I guess,” my stomach curled into itself.

“Maybe you should stay away from him, then?”

“He just needs to lay low until the police replace out who did it.”

“Conner, what if the killer comes after you? Jesus, are you drunk right now?”

The guy had absolutely no concept of the danger he might’ve been in. A sadist group affiliated with Angelo? It didn’t get any more messed up than that.

“A little, but no one is coming for me, Lil. We’re fine. No one’s gonna connect the two of us. He hasn’t used the DeLuca name in five years.”

“Except that his face is plastered to the TV. Someone might recognize him.”

“The guy’s so fucking paranoid, he won’t even leave his place. Been making me run his damn errands for him.”

“I just think you should inform the police, is all. Maybe they can protect you.” At the very least, the shady ones Angelo seemed to be associated with. While grateful not to be in the thick of all that, I wasn’t stupid enough to think criminals stopped at the men they’d sought. Sometimes, they went after friends and families, too, in an effort to make a spectacle out of their revenge.

“Police ain’t gonna protect shit. Relax. Bee’s at school. You’re away at school. I’m the only one who might be caught up in this shit, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

I rubbed a hand down my face, groaning at Conner’s misplaced disregard when it came to things that mattered. Things that could turn really bad, real quick. “Just … don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. How’s school?” Such a benign question for the topic at hand.

“Great. It’s great, Conner.”

“Good to hear. I meant what I said, kid. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. Keep me updated, okay?”

“Will do.”

With that he hung up, and I exhaled a shaky sigh.

“Hey.” At the sound of a new voice, I looked up to replace Mel standing over me. “All good?”

“Yeah. I just needed to make a private call.” I stuffed my phone away, hoping she hadn’t heard any of the conversation. “I’m heading up to my room now.”

“I saw you walking with Spencer,” she said flatly.

“Oh. Yeah, he walked me to my dorm. We’re just friends.”

“Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”

With my head still spinning, I honestly wasn’t in the mood, but I responded with, “Sure?”

“I’d be careful around him.”

What the hell? Had she crowned herself the resident messenger of shady men, or something? First Bramwell, then Spencer.

“Why?”

“Because he’s a lying piece of shit. A manipulator.”

I shrugged, mildly frustrated at the way she’d nosed herself into my business. We’d had a neighbor like her back in Covington. An older woman who’d constantly inquired about my mother’s state of health and whether, or not, her illness could pass through the apartment vents. As my mother had progressed, we’d decided to keep her confined to her room, so as not to rouse all the gossip in the building. “He’s been pretty cool to me.”

“Of course he has. That’s what manipulators do.”

Perhaps her warning was warranted, but I had a shitshow on my hands with Conner hanging out with what seemed to be a wanted criminal, and I just didn’t have the headspace for her right then. “I appreciate the heads up.”

“I’m serious, Lilia. You don’t want anything to do with that.”

“Noted,” I said, heading back to my room.