Grimmstead Academy: Defiant Rebellion

by Candace Wondrak

  And then, of course, I wondered something else. Did my father call the police once he couldn’t get ahold of me? Would the police even be able to come here?

  Eh, probably not.

  When it all came down to it, it didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered except finding a way to screw up the plans of whatever dark force grew under this house, this academy-that-was-not-really-an-academy.

  Fighting evil…wasn’t that a hero’s job? I, Felice Fairday, was anything but a hero. The blood on my hands would prove it, but maybe that was the point. Maybe, to beat this thing, you had to be a little conniving, a bit precocious, and a whole lot fiery.

  Chapter Fourteen – Dagen

  It wasn’t as if I desired to be in this room all night, but I supposed it was my turn to be with the body. Her body. Felice’s corpse laid, all hunched over and stiff, under the same white sheet that had covered Payne’s body.

  The difference? Payne’s body hadn’t smelled one bit, in spite of the time that went on. Felice’s stunk something fierce, although I supposed it wasn’t as bad up here, on the third floor of the house.

  I’d taken over watching from Ian not too long ago; I’d told him I wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway, so I might as well be the one to stand guard and make sure nothing funny happened. Victor was sure the house itself couldn’t forcibly take her body, that Felice or one of us had to essentially hand it over, which none of us were likely to do. We cared for her too much, and I…I’d already made a mistake by keeping this to myself for so long.

  I couldn’t even remember that night, not really. The noise had grown so loud, it practically forced me to head into the basement, where I found her, bleeding out over the crack in the floor, the earth itself seeming to open and swallow everything she gave it. By the time I reached her, by the time I gathered myself from the shock of seeing what I saw, it was too late. She was dead.

  She was dead and that ever-repeating sound echoed in my head even louder, coming right from the lifeless body in my arms.

  Her heart.

  Or lack thereof.

  All this time, the noise that had kept me awake at night, the noise haunting my every waking moment had been her heart, locked away in the basement, out of time itself. Did it make one lick of sense? Of course not. This was Grimmstead. Nothing ever made sense if you thought too hard about it. After all, how could I possibly have heard her heart even before she’d come to Grimmstead? It didn’t make sense.

  As much as a self-fulfilling prophecy as it was, I hated it. I hated the way I felt, like I could’ve done something more to help her, to save her somehow. Logically, I knew it wasn’t my fault. I simply didn’t reach her in time. Gears keep grinding in my head, though—what if I would’ve run to the basement? What if I wouldn’t have hesitated and found her before she truly died? Perhaps I could’ve saved her, stopped this place from killing her.

  A lot of pressure to put on the past me, a lot of pressure that, in the end, was only a what-if.

  Felice was dead. There was no changing it. I had no idea where we would go from here. None at all, and that, if I was honest, frightened me to no end.

  I sat in the corner of the room, my back against the wall, watching the table and her body. From where I sat, I could see the top of her head, her matted, brown hair under the sheet. I was not a man who believed in God, but I almost felt like praying to him.

  This place…none of it was what we thought.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  The noise I heard was dull right now, probably because her body was so close. I wondered if I would never again be drawn to the basement; if the sound was indeed her heart, surely I was technically drawn to it, her corpse. The basement was never the final destination.

  I couldn’t say how long it was before I heard footsteps creaking on the floor. I looked up, finding that Felice had pushed open the door to the room, standing under the archway before heaving a sigh and entering. Her gaze lingered on her body for a few moments before she spotted me, and she sighed yet again as she headed towards me.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, muttering it to herself before sitting beside me. Her arm brushed mine, and just like that, the incessant noise halted as if by magic. Even though she was dead, even though her spirit and her body were no longer in the same place, she still held power over me. How else could she make that horrible noise stop?

  I said nothing, not knowing what to say. I took off my glasses, wiping them with the sleeve of my shirt as I pondered. Comforting was never my thing. Lately, I was the one who needed to be talked off the ledge of insanity. Seeing her body, thinking that everyone in the house hated me and blamed me for what had happened…it pushed me too far.

  “Well,” Felice quickly added, picking at her nails, “that’s kind of a lie. I did fall asleep. I, uh…I think I had a dream, though. Or a vision. Something.”

  Measuredly putting my glasses back on, I met her amber stare, questioning.

  “Victor was right. This place doesn’t have all of me, and it won’t—not until it gets the rest of me.” There was a pause as she glanced to the table, at her corpse. “That. This place wants my body, for whatever reason.”

  I had no idea if what she was saying was true, and I knew how dangerous a thing hope was, but it was hard not to have a sliver of it as I gazed at the woman I adored above all else, the woman I had failed. “I know it’s not worth much, coming from me, but whatever happens, you have me.”

  Felice gave me a small smile, and before I knew what was happening, she leaned into me. I moved, allowing her the opportunity to literally crawl onto my lap. The sound had completely vanished the moment she started touching me, which let me feel a whole symphony of other things. Determination. Love. Sorrow. Lust. All that and more. This woman really did give rise to a whole new me.

  “It means everything,” she whispered, clinging to me as if she thought I could save her, could protect her from the world. From Grimmstead and all of its twisted depravity. “I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have you guys.”

  My arms were slow to wrap around her small frame, and I hugged her to my chest, her cheek laying softly along my shoulder. Frankly, I wouldn’t know what to do if she hadn’t crossed Grimmstead boundaries either, but I supposed if that were true, I wouldn’t even know what I was missing.

  At least, if she’d never come here, she’d still be alive. It was more than I could say for her now. As much as I adored this woman and wanted her here with me, with us, filling the void I’d never known I’d had, I’d much rather have her out in the world, living her life, oblivious to our suffering. She could grow old, get married, have kids, do things everyone else did. Or maybe she wouldn’t, but at least it would’ve been up to her.

  Now…now there truly was no hope for her, no chance to do anything. She would never age, never wed, never birth out any number of kids. She wouldn’t have a family, beside us—and what good were we when we’d led to her demise? We were terrible for her, truly.

  My voice came out quiet as I murmured, “I fear we are not as good for you as you think we are.”

  Felice lifted her head off my shoulders to stare at me, her impeccably-plucked eyebrows coming together as she asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “I only mean—that was to say…” I fumbled over my words as if I’d never been in the presence of such a beautiful, stunning goddess before. And I hadn’t, not before her. Maybe there’d been other women here, but right now, it was hard to remember how everything was before she’d come.

  She must’ve realized where I was going with it, for she told me, “Stop. Stop blaming yourself for what happened to me.” Felice ran a hand down the side of my face, giving me the gentlest smile she could muster. Just that simple touch set my mind whirling, my heart racing. “It’s not your fault I’m dead, and it isn’t anyone’s fault that I’m here. This house brought me here. This place somehow sent me that letter and offered me that position. It wanted me here, and I don’t doubt that if I would�
�ve ignored it, it would’ve found another way.”

  She was probably right, but still, I didn’t want to admit that to myself. That her arrival here was inevitable. Surely fate had more in store for Felice than eternity here? Some men and women might long for such a thing, but when eternity came hand in hand with hell, any sane person would change their mind.

  “I’m thankful you’re here,” Felice spoke. “I’m thankful for all of you, and I want you to believe that, Dagen.”

  I slowly nodded. She wouldn’t say something she did not mean, and yet it was difficult for me to agree with what she’d said. It worried me, that she was so adamant we were good for her, that we’d help her through this, that, maybe, we’d find her a way out of this.

  The hand on my face now cupped my cheek softly, her skin smooth on mine—though my cheeks were covered in prickly stubble. Felice turned my head, bringing her mouth to mine, and I let myself get lost in her, giving into the racing heart in my chest and the tender softness of her lips on mine.

  There really was nothing else like it in the world.

  With our mouths locked on each other, we slowly moved positions. I sat with my back against the wall, and she straddled me, both hands on the sides of my face as if she thought I’d dare to move, to pull her off me. Believe me, that was the last thing I’d do. Even though I felt awful for what had happened, even though her corpse sat less than ten feet from us, I could not push this woman off me.

  No sane man could.

  Even with everything going on, with everything that had happened lately—how much things had changed—it went to show that nothing at all had changed. I still cared for this woman, and I’d do anything for her. I needed her like I needed the air I breathed, and even though guilt sat in my blood, I could not deny her.

  Passion exploded between us. We were two souls, caught in a strange, hellish tug of war with an enemy with no face. It always felt as though we were losing, watching our sanity and our lives disappear inch by inch as Grimmstead yanked on the other side, but I supposed there was just as much fun in losing as there was in winning.

  And, you know, you didn’t truly lose a game like that until your hands weren’t on the rope, until you no longer could hold tight.

  Me, Felice, the others? We still held on tightly, none of us ready or willing to let go. Grimmstead might be in the lead now, but because of the hope blossoming in my chest, I did wonder if we could pull it back.

  It didn’t take much for me to get hard, and Felice showed no hint of hesitation as she fumbled with my belt and my trousers, her lips still locked on mine, devouring any sound I might’ve made. We were both readily hungry for each other, our bodies raring to go instantly.

  Soon enough she had my length free, my cock standing erect, and she tore her mouth off mine as she positioned herself above it, one hand beneath the skirt of her dress, moving her underwear to the side to allow me entrance.

  I could feel myself start to lose it when her body took mine in, bit by bit until I was fully submerged inside her. Her pussy, so tight and hot, locked around me, and I let out a moan.

  It was weird to have sex while her body lay not too far away, decomposing, wasn’t it? Ah, well. I supposed anything that happened under this roof most of humanity would consider foreign and immoral. We were all madmen here, wicked and depraved, insane and psychotic. Felice fit weirdly into each of our hearts.

  Even Bram’s, apparently? Go figure that one.

  Felice took charge, since she was the one on top. Her fingers wove into my hair, and she pulled my head towards hers, her mouth finding mine yet again. This kiss was hard and fast, her rocking hips taking on a steady pace on my cock.

  Her body was like home, fitting perfectly around mine, her lips tasting sweet and heated. I couldn’t remember where I’d come from, what situation I’d had before Grimmstead, but I knew I’d never felt anything remotely close to this. This was…well, this was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, and I’d wager it was the same for the others.

  There was something special about Felice, something that made us all weak to her. Our hearts, our bodies. If it was due to the connection she had with Victor, perhaps we should thank him. I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without her.

  It did not take me long to feel my ballsack trembling, my cock twitching inside her with the need to release, and I didn’t fight the feeling. I had to tear my mouth off hers, letting out a groan as my body shuddered under hers. My hands found her hips, fingers digging in as my cock erupted, coating her inner walls with my cum. My eyelids slammed shut, every muscle in my body spasming as the orgasm swept through me, the strongest I’d ever felt.

  Felice slowed her rocking after I came, but she did not pull off entirely. Her body heaved with hard breaths, and she rested her forehead against mine. I slowly opened my eyes, finding that she was watching me.

  Did I come too soon? Should I have pushed the feeling aside for a while? Maybe I—

  All of my worry mattered not, for Felice said something that did not reference our intimate session: “I have an idea.”

  An idea?

  She did not elaborate as she got off me, my cock sliding out of her as she stood and adjusted herself beneath her dress. I watched her, struggling to get to my feet and put myself away, zipping up my pants and latching my belt. “What is it?” I asked, only partially out of breath, wanting to know.

  Like clockwork, there it was: thump, thump.

  “I need to talk to Lucien and Victor, see what they think,” she said in a hurry, practically running to the door. She stopped, tossing a quick look back at me. “I’ll tell you if I get their go-ahead.” And then, without a word more, she was gone, practically vanishing into thin air.

  I blinked after she left, feeling a strange sort of uneasy.

  Whatever her idea, it had come to her when she and I were in the middle of our lovemaking, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had led her to the idea, whatever it was. Was it the sex, or was it just timing? Either way, I’d have to be patient.

  That would be extremely difficult, I suspected.

  Chapter Fifteen – Felice

  Lucien’s and Victor’s rooms were pretty close together, considering how much Lucien did not like Victor. Victor wasn’t a fan of him either, so the dislike was mutual. Ironic, considering they were basically the same, minus a few physical tweaks.

  I went to Lucien first, knowing I had to get his okay before I spoke with anyone else about it. After all, my plan did involve using the Desire Room, the room Lucien had pretty much closed off and ruled by himself for years. Technically it was Victor’s room first, but seeing as how Lucien was still head of this strange household, it would be him who I’d talk to first.

  My fingers curled into a fist, and I gently knocked on his closed door. I could feel Dagen’s cum staining my panties, but now wasn’t the time to linger on that. Though, I supposed I could go downstairs and change, but…

  The moment I knocked, the door swung right open, which I found immediately odd. Lucien did not strike me as a man who would leave his door ajar, especially while he was asleep and, for all intents and purposes, defenseless.

  An uneasy feeling sank in my gut, and I felt a soft, tickling sensation on my hand. I glanced down, finding a quite large black fly skittering about on my flesh, as if I was the dead one, not the body down the hall.

  I swatted it away, stepping deeper into his room. It was just like the others, no larger, no more specially-furnished, but what stopped me was the fact that his lamp was on, a dull yellow color lighting up the room. My feet froze as I gazed at the man on the bed. Lucien was not under any covers, and yet…yet he didn’t look right.

  His arms were folded across his chest, kind of like how I imagined a mummy’s to be: an X. His long, thick legs were straight, practically long enough to fall off the edge of the bed. He wore the same suit he’d worn earlier, the same shiny shoes and the same stern expression…except his eyes were closed, and he looked…

  We
ll, call me crazy, but he looked almost like a man made of stone.

  It took all of the courage I had in me to step closer to his bed, to whisper, “Lucien?” My voice echoed in the small, closed-off space, and I couldn’t help but feel a certain kind of sick in my stomach. Once I reached his bedside, I set a hand on his arm, touching him, squeezing his bicep.

  It was hard, but not hard like his normal musculature. It had no give at all. The softest thing about it was the suit sleeve on his arm, but there was only so much fabric could hide. Underneath the sleeve, his arm was like a rock, motionless and unmovable.

  “He’s been like this since the sun went down,” a serious voice spoke behind me, causing me to jump.

  When I turned around, my heart beating so fast it might explode—a funny thing for a dead girl to think—I saw Victor leaning against the closet doors, a perplexed expression on his handsome face. Judging from his clothes, he hadn’t slept a wink either.

  “What happened?” I was breathless in the worst of ways. To think, mere moments ago, I was down the hall, with Dagen, wildly oblivious to this.

  “I don’t know,” he said, moving to stand beside me, nearer Lucien. His hazel eyes roamed Lucien’s still frame, and he frowned. “He was talking to me when he…suddenly stopped. He was lucky someone was near, otherwise he would’ve fallen and hit his head. I caught him, lugged him to his room, but…”

  Both our eyes were on Lucien, on his still frame, and my heart tugged in my chest in the worst possible way.

  “It’s like, whatever power was keeping him alive simply stopped,” Victor whispered, glancing to me. “Perhaps the one in charge here does not take kindly to us keeping your body to ourselves.”

  Maybe this was the house’s way of telling me things would get worse if I didn’t hand over my body and soul to it? I knew that’s what he meant, and I hated to think he was right. After that dream, after being threatened by my evil-eyed doppelganger, I couldn’t help but think this was my fault.