Blood of the Atrum Luna

"AH—UGH!" Grunted the young woman, Evara, whose behind hit the hard surface of the dirt. Her eyes immediately looked up wide and dilated, feeling her fingers clutch tighter into her bruised arm. Her black eyes remained stagnant on the pair of persons who put her in that messy state of agony, feeling the sore patches of her skin ache more. The pair of women standing before her grinned; one passively swinging the metal rod that was used against her. She gulped. "Stupid bitch." Spat the sharp tongue of one that gazed down at her. "Can't believe the college decided to admit a thief like you." Poor Evara still shrouded in pain, slowly pulled back on the dirt ground, hearing the constant echo of her thudding heart in fear. "Alright, students!! Stand in a straight line!!" The loudened voice of the woman standing on the highest rock feet away, caused all heads to look in one direction. A sense of relief washed over Evara's heart, watching her two attackers throw her a bitter gaze before walking in the direction of their instructor. Tall and curvy, the instructor stood in a grey jumpsuit, her plum lips parted as she shouted at the rowdy crowd of students in the back who weren't paying attention. "Class 2B!!! I said to stand in a straight line!!!" The sudden thunder in her tone caused the students to ruffle amongst themselves — they final strode in a twin straight line, looking up at the woman before them. She scoffed with a slight frown, her forehead draped in sweat from the hot afternoon rays that basked them, peaking through the tall green forest trees. "Thank you, Ms. Gloria," the calm, masculine voice from the side seized the viewing line of sight as a tall man of slender physic and long silver hair that draped half of his face stood on the position Ms. Gloria stepped down from. Dressed in a mystical robe that dragged after him, his fabric adorned with crystal embedments like that of a royal figure in the medieval age, he raised his hands. "Welcome, students! To your first Fantasy class of the semester!" The students, all dressed in casual light-shade t-shirts and joggers, looked up at the strange man with quizzical eyes. What was he wearing? Was the glaring question their eyes asked as they continued to gaze at him and murmur. The man then chuckled, "I am by name, Professor Sylvester Devon! The one who will take you through this semester! And as you all are aware, I am the current head of the fantasy department. Meaning everything I live and breathe for is the mystical enchantment of fantasy literature and arts! All, in the exquisite School of Creativity! Ririndell College!" They continued to listen attentively. "You are the seventh class and batch of the session, so of course certain things are new to you all. But here in the department of fantasy, we take our dwelling in the fictional reality very seriously! That means in the next Inspiration field trip, you all could be asked to dress like elves, goblins, or even medieval vampires! All to get in character when seeking for inspiration". A few of the students laughed at the thought of his words. Professor Sylvester carried on, "And for today's introductory trip, we will take a stroll through the campus's very own enchanted forest! So without wasting any more time!" He leaped off the rock with perfect balance, interlocking his hand in front of him as he strode down the dirt road as the students behind trailed after. Despite the light chatter and banter amongst the novice class members, Professor Devon went on. "I hope you all are aware there will be a test after this small stroll". Their voice creased. Sylvester chuckled, pausing his steps to look over his shoulder. "If you are too busy mumbling, you will fail to notice the little details in the forest that make it truly enchanting. Like the color of the plants, rare animals and birds, and even the specs in the wind", he chuckled. "And at the end of this, you all will have to produce a short story of less than three thousand words or 6 pages, based on what you learned today". A series of gasps and exclamation escaped from the student's lips. He chuckled. "Do not say I didn't —" "AHHHHHHHH!!" The ear-piercing scream from the far back of the crowd drew pairs of eyes in a sole direction, causing the professor and other escorting academic staff to rush forth. The scream came from between the trees off the path the students were intended to walk on. The school staff rushed and immediately halted at the sight of the girl seated on the ground as she dragged herself backward in fear, struggling to mutter in lost breath from her agonizing scream. Her eyes widened, and her lips left gapped in bewilderment at what was feet away from her. The academic staff gasped at the sight. Mounted in what resembled a pyramid, the chucks of decaying infested flesh, limbs, and organs were staked on each other, having the head of what looked like a girl — most likely a student — placed on the top like a birthday candle. A crystal rod was burrowed straight through a skull like a kabah. Professor Sylvester immediately clinched in disgust as the rotten air reached his nose. He immediately looked down at the student who happened to have discovered it before screaming for help. His brows quirked at the name written on her shirt's tag. "Evara Moore", he mouthed without thought, causing the trembling student to slowly look up at him, petrified with shock and fear. Her black eyes locked on him.