Apprentices: First Quarter

Awaiting Punishment

I don’t dare tell Kir about my slip-up. And out of my friend group, only Katie knows about what kind of punishment I earned myself. She’s as shaken as I am, trying to convince me to complain to the principal. But knowing Mrs. Madden, she would probably double my punishment.

My best friend is against me going there, but it’s not like I have any other choice. I earned myself this crap when I went too far during our magical history lesson. I should’ve known better, but ah, well. I guess I’ll never learn.

As I already mentioned, I could pull some strings with Kir and have him get me out of the punishment, but I don’t. I don’t feel like it would be right to use him. I got myself into this and I’ll get myself out as well. I deserve punishment, even if I don’t like where I’ll have to spend my detention.

I’m doing quite well during my lesson with Kir the night before, which gives me enough courage and strength to keep quiet about where I’m spending my Sunday in front of my werewolf friends. I’m sure they wouldn’t like where I’m going, and I get it. After all, I didn’t lie in class. Werewolves and vampires really despise each other.

Katie is watching me quietly the whole breakfast, probably waiting if I’m going to crack and tell the boys about my punishment, but I don’t. I can’t tell them, especially not Jake. He’ll think I’m fraternizing with the other part of me and that’s the last thing I want. There’s no way I’ll ever give into that.

I don’t think it’s even possible. I’m fully a witch. My vampiric blood only messed with my dominant element. It can’t mean that I’m suddenly going to like the smell of blood and will want to drink it. Right?

Knowing that no one can answer that question for me, I sigh to myself. Why am I torturing myself with such questions? They’re not going to get me anywhere. And my big mouth won’t either. If only I decided to use my brain to sneak into the Headquarters instead of trying to get there by punishment. Well, what’s done is done.

I told everyone that I’d be spending Sunday alone in my room, studying for a very difficult upcoming test. The boys didn’t question my decision, even if Jake seemed a little bummed about it. To apologize, I plant a soft kiss onto his cheek, not caring who’s watching.

As I walk out of the cafeteria, I can feel a quite a few gazes, glued onto my back. But I couldn’t care less. I needed that tiny moment to get through today. Because I have a feeling that I’m not going to like whatever tasks the vampires prepared for me.

The entrance to the Strigon Residence is situated right between the high school and the college buildings. I head outside like I’m walking towards the college building, only to turn left and head to the gigantic black door. It’s made entirely out of iron, looking like it doesn’t quite belong in the modern world. But everything about the Seminary looks like that.

I use a big handle to knock on the door, staring at the devil’s face, from which the handle is woven. I’m actually knocking with the devil’s tongue. That wasn’t a really pleasant thought. Pull yourself together, Evelyn. You can get through this.

As soon as the door opens, I notice the way the woman that opens doesn’t let much light in. Well, the sky is dark and cloudy, just like my mood. There’s not really any light to begin with. But she’s still careful, eyeing me up and down before stepping aside and letting me in.

The moment I do, I regret it. The door shuts tightly behind me, revealing a short hallway, lit up only by flames, dancing on the walls. s**t, I didn’t realize this would be a history lesson as well. I feel like I’m in the sixteenth century. I would laugh at my own joke, but the truth is, I’m too scared to laugh.

The woman slides past me, instructing me to follow her. I do, following carefully at a distance. We enter a grand foyer of some sort, which is lit up by a gigantic chandelier. But there seems to be no electricity. Just f*****g candles again. What is this, dark and gloomy Da Vinci or what?

The stairs and the flooring are made of black marble, but covered by a thick rug, which is closely resembling the color of blood. I wonder why that might be … Actually, no. I don’t want to know.

I turn my gaze away from the dried flowers inside massive vases, trying to ignore how there’s spiderweb woven between the delicate petals. It’s quite the contrast, compared to the shiny, polished vases with gilded ornaments. Vampires are really weird creatures.

I head to the left, where the woman is going. I’m still not sure who she is. Apart from telling me to follow her, she didn’t say a word to me. I have no idea if she’s a member of the Strigons or a servant. But judging by the way she walks through the hallways, her head always slightly bent down, I would say she’s a far cry from royalty. And let’s be real, the Strigons wouldn’t open the doors themselves.

We walk through another set of wide hallways, lit up by torches. There are doors everywhere and I have no idea where the woman’s taking me, or if she even knows why I’m here. Suddenly, she takes me somewhere downstairs. And that’s the first alarm that rings inside my head. But I tell myself to quit being such a p***y and follow her.

I get down carefully, because the stairs are made of uneven stone, making me pay extra attention to how I’m walking. I don’t want to bleed in a house, full of vampires. Even if they feed mostly on animals.

As the woman opens a small wooden door at the end of the staircase, she has to bend to get through it. I do the same, almost fainting in horror as I take in the scene in front of me. It’s not that there’s blood. I can take a little blood. But this? It’s like a m******e.

There are pools of blood, lying on the ground. Gigantic pools of blood. It’s splattered all over the curtains, the seating furniture and everywhere else one can think of. I can’t believe my eyes as I realize that the dark masses, scattered on the ground, are dead animals. f*****g s**t. What did I get myself into?

I don’t want to cover my mouth with my hand, because I would look like a scaredy-cat, but at the same time, I can’t take a deep breath to calm myself down. If I did, I could smell the blood in the air and then I would surely faint, puke or run out screaming.

The woman turns to me with a hint of a sadistic smile on her face. “You have the whole day to clean this up,” she informs me, then pointing into a corner I didn’t see before. “There are mops and buckets. There’s a sink with running water right next to it. If you finish early, knock on the door exactly seven times. Someone should hear you, I think.”