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It was not a pleasant sight. In the atrium of the academy, the cold granite tiles, usually scrubbed to sparkle, now served as a canvas. Scrawled in large, blocky letters in the colour of half-dried blood, its message was loud and clear.
"THE END OF ARISON" it said. It looked as if the words were carved into the academy with a dagger, and it was oozing out terribly.
All the students gathered around the words displayed on the floor in a perfect crescent shape, no one daring to get closer. Everyone seemed so mesmerized by the letters that it was a while before anyone noticed the second, and even more daunting part of the puzzle.
"Look!" A first-year boy cried as he pointed upward. Everyone followed his hand and their eyes fell upon another grizzly sight. Just below the banister of the winding staircase leading up the dormitory tower was an unassuming candle bracket, but on it hung not a candle, but a clearly dead bird. Its eyes were still open and stared piercingly into the crowd, its wings outstretched like a cross hung above a church. And Opuntia stood in front of it all, her mind now racing with thoughts.
"C'mon, out of the way, why isn't anyone moving?" A voice said behind her, annoyed. She turned her head to see Sampson attempting to make his way toward her, followed by Teddy and Engelbart. They all still seemed unsure of what was happening, due to the lack of shocked looks on their faces.
"O.P, what's the hold up for?" Teddy called to her, trying to see above 3 rows of heads.
"It's, well, not good," was all Opuntia could muster, not even wanting to tell her friends. But Eng, who was taller than Sampson and Teddy, seemed to get a glimpse of the scene before them.
"Oh my God…" he said, his round eyes growing wide, and stumbling backwards into Teddy.
"Someone please tell me what's going on!" Sampson huffed. But before anyone could explain, none other than Redwood's voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs, carrying everywhere in the tower.
"SILENCE!" he roared and got his wish immediately. The sound of his echoing footsteps could be heard as he plodded through the sea of students, parting a clean path between them. Opuntia and her friends were separated and watched as he finally reached where the scene lay, now revealed to be closely followed by Mordred Arison.
There was a long moment where Redwood just stared, taking in the words, what they were written in, and finally the bird.
"…When I find out who has done this, they will never set foot in this place, or any other academy, ever again." Redwood's tone was a growl, almost as low as a whisper, but Opuntia was sure everyone could hear him loud and clear. As he said this, her father's eyes met hers: an unusual event in itself. He was typically so hard to read, so he could have been expressing anything from anger, to delight, to terror. But no matter what he meant, his look set a deep realization down in the pit of her stomach. The 'end of Arison' could also mean the end of her.
Before sending everyone off to their regular classes, Redwood demanded that no one speak of the scene in the atrium, yet that was an optimistic demand. The word of the mystery spread like wildfire, and soon the whole school was aware of it, even if they didn't get to witness it themselves. It was certainly a more interesting topic than whatever was happening in Drownreef's class.
"All of this content is on the upcoming test so I expect everyone to be paying close attention," He drawled dutifully, changing out his projector slides. Yet only Wilfred seemed to be paying attention since all the other boys (and one girl) were pondering perhaps the biggest event at Arison in the last decade.
"I'll tell you why this is so big," Sampson theorized to all of them at lunch, surveying the buzzing cafeteria. "We don't have sports teams, any clubs, no school events of any kind besides masses and sermons. This is the only interesting thing that has happened here since Alfred Dulittle in the second year!"
This wasn't entirely true. Arison did traditionally claim to offer clubs and student societies alike, but by the time the students were even past their first year, they were so crushed under the weight of academics that they barely had time or passion for anything else.
“Alfred Dolittle…oh the donkey guy?” Teddy replied, deep in remembrance.
“The very same,” Sampson grinned. It was not easy to forget what exactly Alfred had done, since, as Sampson mentioned, it was probably the most interesting thing to happen at the school in the past 3 years.
“Donkey?” Eng questioned, polite bewilderment on his face.
Everyone in the group jumped at an elaboration as if it was all a tale deeply personal to them. All as Opuntia watched in uncharacteristic silence, at least glad of the change in subject.
“I’m pretty sure I saw it first, out of all of us,” Teddy explained.
“Nah, it was me, I remember running to tell everyone, I almost knocked Wilfred over.” Sampson cut in.
“No, but I remember—”
“Look, Alfred was peeved about his rejection from Duke and blamed Arison, so, in retaliation, he spray painted a picture of Redwood as a donkey on that big mosaic window in the church house.” Cas finally concluded, getting the final word in.
“C’mon, it’s not as cool when you say it like that!” Teddy whined, waving his hand in annoyance.
“And he was expelled?” Eng asked in disbelief.
“Almost in an instant,” Wilfred sighed. “It did not take them long to find out it was him…”
“Yeah, but he went with the stupid route,” Sampson said in a knowing way. “He wanted out of the system and then just got sent to military school instead. He really should’ve built up a reputation of hijinks before the big donkey stunt of 67, then his folks would’ve never thought he had a chance at getting whipped into shape.”
“And I’m guessing that’s what you plan to do?” Cas smirked at Sampson with an eyebrow raised.
“Yep!” he beamed, leaning back on the wooden bench.
This was definitely the apparent path Sampson seemed to be taking since many students at the school assumed him the culprit of the atrium vandalization. Stephen Phillipe, a shrimpy fourth year with round, beady eyes approached the group’s end of the table and bent down to talk in a low voice next to Sampson.
“You’ve really done it this time, Laurier,” he giggled. “How you got away with it is beyond my tiny brain, that’s for sure.”
Sampson gave him a disgruntled look and made everyone else in the group immediately stare at him with open mouths. Opuntia could feel her heart freeze in place.
“Who on Earth is saying that?” Sampson asked, whipping his head around at the rest of the lunch room.
“Oh, everyone in my year,” Stephen grinned. “Don’t worry, we’re not finks.”
“Oh, Sampson, you didn’t—” Teddy said, setting his fork down in disgust.
“Now, come on, of course I didn’t.” He assured them all. “You would have to be some sadistic skuzz to do that.”
“More like masochistic, since you know how much pain you’re about to get,” Wilfred added, chuckling. He seemed easily convinced of Sampson’s innocence, along with Cas, but Teddy and Opuntia still were uneasy.
“Look, last night you seemed really upset at Redwood and the school so it might make sense,” Opuntia spoke aloud for the first time in all of lunch. Obviously, it didn’t bring her joy that one of her best friends would be the culprit of such a low-down crime, but at the same time, it gave her assurance in knowing that if it was him, he wouldn’t be after, well…her. She wouldn’t have to peer over every corner and avoid dark corridors, not knowing what was coming for her. Yes, it was a little delusional, and Opuntia knew that, but in a place where there was never a second where she belonged, was it finally time for the school to take charge and drive her out for good? Like an immune system eradicating a virus. she was the one who disregarded the rules, and there were definitely people who didn’t like that.
“So what? I went a little ape,” Sampson brushed it off. “Does that mean I go and kill a bird and wipe blood on the floor?”
“The poor bird…” Eng said softly to himself.
“Okay, point made, but that was not blood.” Cas retorted, causing more discourse between them all. Despite only being 20 minutes into the lunch period, Opuntia quietly got up from the bench and began attempting to make her way through the inch of space between tables.
“O.P, where are you going?” Teddy asked, confused.
“Uhh, studying for calculus!” Opuntia called back to them, fully knowing she was going in the opposite direction of the library and dormitories.
“You know, studying less than an hour before a test brings more stress than success,” Wilfred tried to tell her, but she was already gone. The atrium was wiped clean of the incident, not a single red dot or feather remained, but a few students were left examining the area, acting like detectives or at least curious figures with nothing else to do. Out of the main doors and through the stone path to the forest she went, not knowing why exactly she was going there but she knew she wanted somewhere far from humanity. Usually, she enjoyed the comfort of her friends greatly, but the space in her heart for those boys was now crammed full of the scarlet message.
Its duality confronted her and was threatening to tear her apart clean in half. On one hand, the school. The wretched school that she longed to leave so bad, she really wouldn’t mind the pain it would cause Redwood or any of the teachers, and yet, the school was tied to her. It’s the only reason why she was there in the first place, and that thought led gracefully to the other side: her. And if not her, her father. Her insides were seething with curiosity and fear, a combination worse than gasoline and a match. She reached the lightning rocks and perched on the largest one, placing her head in her hands, her eyes wide open, peering between the gaps. What should she do? What was there to do? Should she wait patiently and have trust in her father and Redwood, despite them seemingly doing nothing? Should she sit and wait at the possibility of being the next thing hanging from that candle bracket?
With these thoughts, her hands absent-mindedly opened her bag and pulled out her math book. She stared down at it for a moment, taking in the scribbles of formulas and example problems she was supposed to understand, but her hand holding the pencil ached for something different. Like Frankenstein struck by lightning, she came to life with words, and they poured out of her into her math book, stark against the numbers.
And so, the archer sends its arrow out
And while it surely struck its target deep
Was I merely a watcher in the crowd,
or do I have the bow aimed straight at me?
A curtain hangs low on the painted frame
tiny slivers are all I can make out
But it is I alone who must refrain
from crying and pointing fingers about
Do I light the flame and pull back the blinds
Only to be hit by the smoking gun?
Or blend in the crowd and hope to all gods
that the archer’s act is finished and done?
Although I may try with all of my might
the question will still call to me at night
With lead in my brain, I’ll take the blow
But I’d be insane to do it alone…
-O.M.A
She hadn’t even considered the words as she wrote them down, but it was clear she had made up her mind. There was one thing that was certain, she would find out who had done this, and the odds were better in numbers.
The rest of the day seemed almost normal for Opuntia. She felt surprisingly confident on the calculus test, maybe because she could focus much better with her mind made up. She once again headed to the library to start her weekend homework, occasionally gazing out the window at her friends’ P.E. class. She had to stifle laughter as they all lamely attempted to do one-handed pushups, all while being yelled at by the other Maystine twin. Then she pictured her friends laughing at her once she told them about her plan, and her smile faded at once.
It wasn’t easy avoiding them for the rest of the day, especially Teddy, who could always seem to track her down, but she knew she couldn’t hold information like that from all of them for that long, and she had to find the perfect time to do it, and the perfect way to say it. Finally, at half past 9 that evening, she sprung into action, leaving her dorm and making her way through the lamp-lit hallways. The curfew was usually 10, but the entire building was dead-silent, most likely all of the boys were too afraid to be loud in case Redwood or her father punished them even harsher than usual, due to the day’s events. But she didn’t care, this was far too important. One by one she knocked on their doors, first Wilfred and Cas’s. Wilfred opened it holding a toothbrush and wearing slippers, just about to go and brush his teeth in the communal bathrooms (gross).
“Hi,” She said, as Wilfred raised an eyebrow in concern. Cas stuck his around the door.
“What are you doing? Redwood is gonna go ballistic if he sees people out of bed again.”
“Relax, Cas, we still have time until curfew,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Listen, I need to talk to you guys.”
At these words, the two of them looked at each other with the same glint in their eyes. A mutual understanding that Opuntia could not put a finger on.
“Well, everyone, actually. Meet me in Teddy’s room,” she said before walking away to the next door, trying to go quickly but quietly at the same time.
She was so used to Teddy and Sampson sharing a room, that she had almost forgotten to inform him, and had to backtrack three doors back, praying that Jeremy McCain would not be the one to answer. Unfortunately, he was.
“Listen, Arison, I get you think that you’re the queen of Arison, and everything, but some people have an academic reputation at stake here.” He whispered snootily, opening the door barely an inch.
“God, Jeremy, if you think I’m here to see you, then I’m a queen doing charity work,” she snarled back, causing Jeremy to scowl and shut the door in her face. She sighed and turned away, hoping Sampson was just in the bathroom or something, but only a few seconds later the door opened again, and Sampson spilled out of it, his curly mop of hair flattened from his pillow.
“Heard I was called?” He asked, grinning.
“If Redwood goes around interviewing character witnesses I’ll have a lot to say about you two.” Jeremy called after them. “There is an investigation happening at this school, you know that, right?” They both ignored him.
Sampson caught the hint right away where they were going, and threw the door open to his old bedroom with ease.
“Sampson! What if they were…naked?” Opuntia said, immediately covering her eyes.
“Relax, the coast is clear,” He said, plopping down onto his old bed, with Eng inside the blankets. He sat straight up, looking worried.
“What’s going on? What happened?” He said, rubbing his eyes.
“Nothing, I just, needed to talk to you guys about something.” Opuntia said, awkwardly, feeling bad that she made him so nervous.
“Is this why you disappeared the whole day?” Said Teddy, also getting out of bed. “I didn’t even see you at dinner!”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Opuntia said, feeling even more guilty. She didn’t even think her friends would notice she was gone, but obviously at least one did. Especially after a mysterious omen showed up on the school property that day, maybe it wasn’t the wisest to vanish.
Wilfred and Cas eventually slumped into the room, leading Opuntia to take a deep breath, look around at all of them, and then start.
“Ok, please don’t think I’m an idiot for this but—”
“Is this about number 9 on the calc test?” Cas cut in, “Because I swear to God that professor Maystine did not teach us that,”
“Dude…” Sampson said exasperatedly, causing Cas to go silent. Opuntia started again, her heart beating a little faster.
“Look, okay, you guys don’t have to follow me into this but I want to let you know how I feel. What happened today was probably the craziest thing that has happened here for as long as we’ve been, and I just have this terrible feeling about it. I know it doesn’t seem like there’s much to even do but I just know Redwood and… my dad are just going to sweep it under the rug, but I…” She tugged her sweater as if grasping for her heart in her chest. “I can’t let that happen. I don’t want to sleep at night not knowing what this person will do next. So, I’m gonna try, probably not successfully, but I’m gonna try to find them.” She looked around at her friends for their reactions, but they all seemed blank, or possessed some emotion she couldn’t read.
“You don’t have to help me, but I just hope you guys can realize why it matters to me.” She had planned those words specifically. She didn’t flat out say, ‘I think someone might do harm to me or my family,’ but she hoped it was enough. She finished talking, and just stood there, giving them a chance to take in what they said. Sampson, like always, was the first to speak.
“I mean if you insist, I guess I’ll help you find out who did it,” he said playfully, clapping his hands together.
“It’s a lot to ask, I mean I don’t even think it’ll lead to anything, but I thought it’s worth a shot to try, right?” Opuntia added, half-heartedly.
“O.P, of course we’re gonna help you,” Teddy said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We already do everything together anyways, we can spare some time for detective work, right guys?” Her friends all nodded and said words of agreement, except for Cas. She knew he would be the hardest to convince. He usually didn’t like going against the rules or doing anything that could potentially get him in trouble, so she was just glad he wasn’t immediately blurting out what ditzes they were. But he just stared at his feet for a moment, cross-legged on the linoleum floor. Then he sighed and adjusted his glasses.
“I guess if it helps you sleep at night,” he said indifferently.
Opuntia couldn’t help but beam at them. Given the choice between turning and running, or staying by her side, they all were there. Well, she didn’t know how much it counted since she was sure all of them were interested in the mystery too, but the look she saw in her father’s eyes that morning was nowhere present in the room. She knew that these boys, no matter how annoying, sarcastic, or uncaring they seemed, they were there, and that alone kept her safe from the painted words on the floor.
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