I look up at the red sky and tilt my head, the black clouds going over the moon as I hum softly. I look back down at the white stoned building, the gate brass and tall as the guards stand at tension. I head over and grip onto my bag.
The guards' gazes follow me as I reach the gates slowly, seeing the dead trees as I smell the burnt bark. I sneeze slightly as I tuck my silver hair behind my ear, one of the guards stopping in front of me, “Name,” he orders as I blink.
“Kyma, Kyma North,” I say as he looks at me, his cat-like eyes staring at me before he moves sideways; waving above his head as the gates slowly open, having a creek coming from them as wind comes from them.
I plant my feet as the gates open before I glance at the guards, them nodding at me before looking forward. I look forward before I tuck the strand behind my ear again, heading inside the gates as I hear crows call before circling in the sky.
I blink and inhale slowly, the air feeling heavier as I head toward the black and red doors. The front view lined with gravestones and black roses climbing up the building. I roll my shoulders and look at the door, seeing the main professor, his hair almost rose gold and slicked back as he leans on his cane. I walk closer to see his royale blue suit is ironed. He gives a slow smile as the wrinkles on his face seem to go away and he stands straight, “Ah, welcome,” he says, his voice seeming deeper than it’s supposed to me.
I stand in front of the steps and bow, “Sir,”
“Oh, get up, Boy. No need for that,” he says and chuckles. I straight and clear my throat, “Sorry Sir,” I say as he looks at me, his eyes peering into mine. He steps back, a hand outstretches, “Please, come in,” he says slowly.
I blink and watch him before I climb the stairs slowly, an electric shock going through me as I shiver slightly then look back at him. He nods and gives a crooked smile. I look back and inhale slowly, climbing up the rest of the stairs before the doors shut behind me; seeing the walls are white stone as well and torches with a purple fire flickering.
“Is a place of which the best monsters are made,” he says and walks next to me, looking at me at the corner of his eye; smiling as I see his canines poke out slightly.
I blink and nod, looking forward, the best monsters are made.