Fear University

by Meg Collett

  “This place isn’t a prison, as you can see. It’s a school, a university. We teach the college-age children of the hunter families to kill aswangs. These people live and die by this war. They send their children here to fight and bear this burden. And their children will do the same, and their children after that.”

  “So what’s the big deal? It sounds like you have an endless supply of fresh blood.”

  Dean shook his head. “We don’t, Ollie. This life is hard. People are afraid, and our numbers are dwindling. The ’swangs, for the first time in history, have the upper hand on us.”

  I sat forward in my seat. “What are they so afraid of? What can these ’swangs do?”

  Dean took a long sip of coffee and set the mug down. Rolling back his chair, he stood and flipped the map of the grounds back to reveal an old drawing of a black dog with elongated, skinny legs and paws eerily familiar to a human hand. The proportions of its body alluded to the appearance of a dog, but looked almost as if a human had been stuffed inside its jagged ribs and was straining to get loose.

  “That’s what I killed,” I said, my eyes glued to the creature’s weird, human-like eyes and startlingly white teeth.

  “This is an aswang,” Dean said. “These creatures have two forms: a night-form where they become black dogs, and a day-form where they return to their human form.”

  “Human?” A hazy memory from the flight over here surfaced, and I remembered a body lying next to me. A man with a broken jaw and neck. But I’d likely been dreaming.

  “Their human forms are simple husks, like a paper envelope holding in the ’swang until it can come out at night. During the day, ’swangs are harmless. That’s when they are easiest to kill, but it’s impossible to know a ’swang in its human form.”

  “They sound like werewolves.”

  “The concept of werewolves and even vampires evolved from the lore of aswangs, but aswangs are very much real. And far more dangerous. When ’swangs hunt at night, they don’t just kill you. They don’t drink your blood or eat you. They kill you with your own fear of pain manifested inside your brain.”

  A chill crept down my spine, like when I was younger and used to hear really good ghost stories. My heart fluttered with excitement. I stood and crossed behind Dean’s desk to study the drawing of the ’swang. In its pencil-drawn eyes, I almost made out a weird reflection, like the artist had caught the inverted image. “How? Are they telepathic?” I asked, thinking of how the ’swang had spoken to me.

  “A ’swang manipulates the parts of your brain that process fear. These creatures turn your mind against you and make you experience a pain unlike any other. They make you think you’re dying, and then they feed off the fear that’s coursing through your body alongside the pain and adrenaline as they eat you.”

  The eating me part didn’t bother me; the manipulation did. I didn’t like that some creature could crawl into my mind and take control, even if I couldn’t feel the pain they were inflicting on me. “Is it like magic?”

  Dean made a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s a big debate here at Fear University. We don’t know if the ’swangs use magic or some kind of supernatural power against us, or if it’s mere evolution.”

  I wanted to laugh but I stopped myself. “Magic versus evolution? What do you think these things evolved from that they can be so much more advanced than we are?”

  “I don’t believe they’re more advanced. ’Swangs are primal beasts driven by basic desires. They just have a cool hat trick up their sleeves.”

  “A hat trick that kills a shit-ton of people.”

  “True. But aside from the debate, we really don’t know how they came to be or what they came from. A lot of what we know about these creatures is theoretical.”

  “So they can’t speak to you or anything?” I said the words carefully, like they didn’t mean anything.

  “No.”

  I frowned and stepped back from the picture, putting the desk between Dean and me again. “So however they do it, they mess with your brain and make you think you’re experiencing pain. But I didn’t feel pain that night. Or ever. So whatever they use to screw with people, they can’t screw with me.”

  Dean smiled, and, for the first time, he relaxed. We took our seats again, as if this was a negotiation or a board meeting. “I believe it’s because your brain processes pain differently due to your mutation of congenital analgesia. The ’swang couldn’t affect your brain, which meant it couldn’t feed off your fear.”

  “I wasn’t afraid.”

  “I know,” Dean said, laughing, and I knew he believed me. “That’s why you’re special, Ollie. You have a power hunters can only dream of. These monsters can’t touch you. Do you know what that means?”

  Dean turned serious again, leaning across his desk like I was a piece of lemon meringue pie with whipped cream on top. He meant every word with every last ounce of truth in his body, and what’s more, I knew he needed me. This whole place needed me. Because I was special.

  I’d never been special my whole life.

  “It means I would be a good hunter,” I said, keeping my voice carefully under control. I didn’t want him to see how excited I was. Excited at the hope I could possibly belong somewhere.

  Dean shook his head. “No. It means you would be the best hunter that ever lived.”

  “That’s why you made Luke bring me here. You want me to stay and learn to kill them.”

  “To kill monsters. To help us obliterate these vile creations and take back our world.”

  I frowned at his words. From the back of my mind, I recalled the ’swang’s horrible, painful whimper as I’d broken its jaw. “What if I say no?”

  “You can,” Dean said quickly. “You’re not a prisoner here, but I think I can offer you something that might make you want to stay.”

  I knew what he meant. I’d been expecting it. “The murder warrant,” I said evenly. “And Maxwell Taber.”

  “Yes. Our work here is sanctioned by a very select group of individuals in the United States government, like I said before. They have the power to pardon you. And my hunters, well, my hunters have the power to take care of your brother.”

  “He’s not my brother.” I bit off each word with force, clenching my fists.

  Dean’s mustache stretched above a soft smile full of understanding and sympathy. “We could do that for you, Ollie. You could start over here. You’d be safe. We would become your family.”

  I looked away at his words. How many times had I wished for a family? A real family that actually wanted me. A place where I belonged and felt special. Where I wasn’t a neat party trick drunk men showed their drunk buddies. Where my condition, my curse, could be a gift. When I was hurt, someone besides myself would take care of me. It sounded so much like Heaven, my knees went a little weak.

  Sensing I needed a moment to collect myself, Dean changed the subject. “What do you think of the estate?”

  “I think it’s a prison.”

  Dean held up his hands. “No one is trapped here. The fence and a few other security measures are used for the pretense of the university being a prison, but they are also for protection against the ’swangs.”

  “They know about this place?” I asked, my fingertips turning cold.

  “They do, but they’ve never been organized enough to mount a decent attack. Normally, it’s two or three rushing the fence. We have alarms and motion detectors, so it doesn’t take much to subdue them. There are plenty of emergency procedures in place. You’re safe here, Ollie.”

  “I don’t put much stock in procedures.”

  Dean smiled warmly. “I think you and I could get along quite well.”

  I shrugged without responding. I’d heard that a lot in my life. Never worked out well.

  “Now, Ollie. We need to talk about the other night.”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  “You were walking home from work. You’re a waitress, right?” He smiled again when I nodded. �
��My wife was a waitress. She hated it. Said too many people got off on commanding other people.”

  I smirked. “She’s right. Does she still waitress?”

  Dean’s smile slipped ever so slightly. “I’m afraid she’s not with us anymore.”

  The way he said it made me think one thing: ’swang. I saw a flash of teeth and hungry eyes, and I blinked the memory away. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Thank you.” He quickly brushed over the subject. “Can you start from the beginning? What did you hear or see before the ’swang appeared?”

  I thought back to last night, trying to remember the details. Details to share and the ones to keep to myself. Like hearing the ’swang. Something told me I should keep that card close to my chest. When I was ready, I launched into my story, telling him about the dark street, walking home alone, and the ticking sound.

  Dean nodded like he expected this. “It started loud at first, right? Then got quieter?”

  I blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”

  “That’s how the ’swangs hunt. To trick their prey, they make it sound like they are moving away from them, not drawing closer. The nearer they are, the quieter the night.”

  “Oh,” I said, unnerved by that. “Okay. So that’s what I noticed right before I saw the dog—’swang. I knew it wasn’t normal right away. It just stood there, staring at me like it . . . was human or something.”

  “What did you see, Ollie?” Dean prompted.

  “My reflection,” I said, deciding to tell the truth.

  Dean leaned forward. “What about it?”

  “It was upside down.”

  Dean smiled suddenly like I’d aced a pop quiz. “Not a lot of people notice that. Their fear controls what they see.”

  “I wasn’t afraid.”

  “I can tell. What happened then?”

  Damn if his approval didn’t bolster my confidence. I launched back into my story about fighting the ’swang. When I finished, he leaned forward on his desk again, hands clenched together in front of him like he was praying. “We could use your help, Ollie. Your gift could make you almost invincible against ’swangs. You could kill thousands with the proper training. We would take you in, make you family. You would live and train here. This would be your new home, but you’d have to leave your old life behind. No contact. All your friends and family would think you’re dead—”

  “There’s no one.”

  Dean paused, sadness deepening the wrinkles around his mouth. “Another gift, I guess. This lifestyle isn’t conducive to connections to the outside world. It gets too hard. But it’s a big commitment. You would be giving up everything. You would be in for life. And in the end, you might even die for the cause. All our hunters accept this. If you choose—”

  “I do.”

  And I did. For me. For a home. For a family. For belonging. But I also agreed because I knew I was a certain type of person. A bad kind. A killing kind. I would be good at hunting monsters, because I was a monster myself. Why run from something that felt so right?

  “You do?” he asked, taken aback. “You’re sure? This is serious, Ollie.”

  I made myself wait, so he knew I understood how serious this was. I didn’t want to play too much into Dean’s hands, but he already knew he had me hook, line, and sinker. He’d seen my reaction when he talked about family. He knew that was what I wanted, even more than the pardon and Max’s death. But I still told myself to wait, to make it seem like I at least cared about my freedom.

  But in the face of all this . . . my freedom was the last thing on my mind. I longed to be special. To belong. I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything. The decision was one I’d been waiting my entire life to make. I didn’t need to think about it.

  “I want the murder charge taken care of. If you can make that go away, I’ll stay. But I take care of Max Taber. No one touches him but me. Got it?”

  I would finish the job I’d started two years ago. The justice wouldn’t be for me but for the other little girl who had been in the basement that night.

  “We can do that. But before we do, I want to make sure you’re a good fit. You will go to classes at the first-year level and train in the evenings with a tutor. You will have final exams and the Field Testing this semester like all the other first-years, but you will also have an extra evaluation from me in two weeks from now. If you pass, you can stay at Fear University, and if you make it through this semester, I will get your pardon.”

  My future here would be riding on this evaluation. No matter what, I needed to pass. “Fine. The evaluation then. And you’ll clear my name at the end of the semester.”

  Dean waited a long moment, like he was examining me again, looking for any lies. I waited while he searched. When he sat back in his chair, I knew I was in. “We’re glad to have you, Ollie,” he said, sighing like a heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders. “You don’t know how relieved we are.” He shuffled out some papers from underneath his coffee mug. He held up a folder. “This has your temporary schedule, student card, which Sunny will explain, and a map of the grounds. I want to talk to some professors and get their opinions, but I’m putting you straight into all the first-year’s classes. You’ve missed about a month of school, but you won’t have too much catching up to do.”

  “Great.” I took the folder he offered me. “I’m ready.”

  “If you have any trouble with anyone, you come straight to me, okay?”

  “What kind of trouble would I have?” I narrowed my eyes, wary again.

  “Ollie, you’re an outsider here. Until you prove yourself, and until people have time to forget how you came here . . . you might be caught in the crosshairs. All these people have ever known is their duty. We were born into this. You weren’t. It will take time, but I’m afraid you might catch some grief for it.”

  I gritted my teeth. Always the outsider. Always the foster kid. “I can handle myself just fine.”

  “I know you can, but I don’t want you to hurt any of the other students when they piss you off.” He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but grin back. This guy understood me; I liked it. It felt nice to be respected.

  A knock rapped against the office door. Dean smiled. “That must be Sunny now. I told her to drop by and show you around. This is your home now, Ollie. You’re not a prisoner, but if you want to go outside of the fences, please talk to a professor or me first. We will have to ensure your safety. If you need something other than what the university’s general store provides, a professor goes out once a week. You can leave a list with her.”

  “Okay,” I said, sensing that our meeting was over.

  We rose from our chairs. Dean stretched out his hand. It took me a moment to realize he wanted me to shake it. Carefully, I grasped his hand. If he noticed my reluctance at touching him, he didn’t comment. “Can I ask you something?”

  I glanced at him before quickly pulling my hand back. I didn’t like those words; they sounded like a test. “What?”

  “Why did you kill that man?”

  My mouth parted in surprise, and, for once, I didn’t know what to say.

  “He was Max’s father right? His biological father? That’s why Max has been stalking you?”

  I swallowed, the act feeling impossible in my dry mouth. Images flashed through my mind. Blood. Not mine. Screams. Not mine. Max’s hands. His father’s hands. Rope and darkness and a bleak basement that smelled of fresh earth. A little girl with pretty hair and bright-blue eyes begging me to save her. I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t do anything that he didn’t deserve.”

  “So it wasn’t an accident then?”

  “No.” I ground out the word. “And I would have killed Max too if he hadn’t gotten away.”

  I didn’t know if that was the answer Dean expected, but I took his silence as my cue to leave. I crossed the cozy room to the door, and, with the doorknob in hand, I turned back around. Dean was already sitting back in his chair, sipping his coffee. “You said I would hav
e a tutor. Who is it?”

  Dean smiled. It looked almost apologetic. “We want you trained by the best, Ollie. I know he’s a little rough, but he’s the greatest hunter we’ve seen in a long time. Luke Aultstriver will be your tutor.”

  I nodded and opened the door, trying to hide my smile. That’s who I’d hoped he would say.

  F O U R

  Keeping up with Sunny, who resembled a child’s doll more than an eighteen-year-old young woman, turned out to be harder than it sounded. She bounced down the hall, springs engineered into her little heels. This part of the school was mostly empty since it was the weekend, but we passed a few students wearing the same gauzy pants as us. Sunny smiled and waved at each of them, calling their names in greeting, though they were too busy staring at me and the bandages on my hands to wave back. I kept my face carefully blank, one brow cocked in a “back off or die” manner I’d perfected over the years. It seriously surprised me how a mere facial expression kept people back at a safe distance.

  Between cheerful waves, Sunny showed me all the classrooms I’d passed on my walk over with Luke, pointing out where my classes would be as she consulted my schedule. “The third floor in both wings is for classrooms and professors’ offices. Your schedule will say east or west for what wing your classroom is in, and then you can follow the numbers to the right room. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

  I couldn’t hold back my smile at her cheerful tone. If I looked past the fact that this place was a prison, it actually felt kind of nice, like an old university full of happy students and the smell of leather books. “Will we have any classes together?”

  Sunny squished up her nose, making her glasses touch her eyebrows. “No. Some of the students, like me, are in accelerated classes.”

  “You must be really smart, then.” I didn’t know how normal friends acted around each other, but it seemed like a nice enough thing to say.

  “Oh, it’s not like that. It’s like,” Sunny hesitated, “like, the students who were marked to be good hunters go straight into the advanced classes. Not that I’m going to be a good hunter or anything, but they didn’t know that until my schedule was already set this year. They put us in accelerated classes because we’re from the older families.”