Blackwood Echoes: A Psychic Mystery

Static

The bus coughed, shuddered, and finally wheezed to a stop in front of Blackwood Academy. Honestly, it looked exactly like you’d expect a school called Blackwood Academy to look. All gray stone, pointy arches, and enough ivy to house a small family of squirrels. It wasn’t exactly welcoming. More…imposing. Like it was daring you to ask what secrets it was keeping.

I tugged my backpack higher on my shoulder, trying to ignore the knot tightening in my stomach. New school, new state, new…everything. My mom had decided a change of scenery would be good for us after, well, everything. I wasn’t convinced. Good scenery couldn’t fix much.

I stepped off the bus, instantly swallowed by a wall of cool, damp air. October in North Carolina was definitely a vibe. A misty, slightly creepy vibe. The air smelled like wet leaves and something older, something I couldn’t quite place. Like dust and…woodsmoke? Or maybe just oldness.

A few other students were milling around, mostly upperclassmen judging by the confident way they carried themselves. They barely glanced at me. Good. I wasn’t really in the mood for small talk. I just wanted to find the main office, get my schedule, and locate the nearest coffee source. Priorities.

I spotted a girl with bright pink hair and a sketchbook tucked under her arm leaning against a stone pillar. She was sketching the academy, capturing the gloominess with surprisingly cheerful lines. Maybe she wouldn’t judge me for being the new, slightly awkward transfer student.

“Hi,” I said, approaching cautiously. “Um, is this Blackwood Academy?”

She looked up, a smile instantly lighting up her face. “The one and only! You must be new. I’m Lila.”

“Wren,” I replied, relieved. “Yeah, just arrived. It’s…big.”

Lila laughed. “That’s one word for it. It feels like a movie set sometimes. A very old, possibly haunted movie set.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Haunted?”

“Oh, you’ll hear the stories,” Lila said with a wink. “Blackwood has a history. Apparently, a student disappeared years ago. Never found. And now…” she lowered her voice dramatically, “Clara Bellwether fell from the observatory tower yesterday.”

My journalistic instincts immediately kicked in. “Fell?”

“That’s what they’re saying,” Lila said, sketching furiously. “But some people think it wasn’t an accident. Clara was…different. Kept to herself. And she was really into the old stories, the creepy parts.”

“An accident is always the easy answer,” I muttered, already mentally drafting a headline. ‘Blackwood Tragedy: Accident or Something More?’

“Exactly!” Lila snapped her fingers. “You think so too? You’re like a real detective.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I just like puzzles. And things that don’t quite add up.”

The main office was predictably gloomy. Dark wood paneling, portraits of stern-looking headmasters, and an air of quiet authority. The receptionist, a woman with a tightly wound bun and an even tighter expression, barely acknowledged me as I approached.

“Name?” she asked, not looking up from her computer.

“Wren Abbott.”

She typed a few keys. “Ah, yes. The new transfer student. Here’s your schedule and a campus map. Headmistress Thorne will see you shortly.”

My schedule looked like a color-coded nightmare. Advanced English, Biology, Pre-Calculus…the usual torture. And then, surprisingly, a class called “Local History and Folklore.” Huh. That might actually be interesting.

I was still scanning the map, trying to decipher the labyrinthine layout of the school, when the receptionist’s phone rang. Her face tightened even further as she listened.

“Yes, Headmistress…Of course…I’ll tell her.” She hung up and turned to me, her expression unreadable. “Headmistress Thorne is…occupied at the moment. She’ll see you later.”

“Occupied?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Just a lot going on with the…situation,” she said vaguely. “You can go find your first class now. Room 207.”

I grabbed my schedule and headed out, feeling a growing sense of unease. Something wasn’t right. The receptionist was definitely hiding something. And ...