Enigma

by RuNyx

Picture. Photographs. Memories. She had so many of them. She didn’t want to stand on that cliff. But she had to. There was no other choice, not for her. Not when they were watching. And they were always watching.

Junie, with her beautiful golden fur and an even more beautiful heart, the only creature on this earth who cared if Salem went missing and took the steps to find her.

Death was a curious thing. Planned or unplanned, mitigated or unmitigated, cruel or comfortable, it was the only universal truth that everyone lied about. Most adults she’d encountered spent their lives not thinking about it, trying to outrun it yet heading straight to it. She didn’t know if they realized what she had at such a young age—death was inevitable. It chased everyone from the moment of the first drawn breath and caught them at their last.

Salem didn’t know how older sisters were supposed to be, but if they were all like hers, the world was doomed.

“I met him online … in one of the university groups,” her sister explained. “We have been talking for a few weeks and I’ll see him after I graduate. We’ve decided it’s not proper to meet in person before that.”

This better not end up where my head is at rn

Are you or will you be a legacy student? That was easy enough. YES, she selected. The page was redirected and another link opened. An image in black and silver loaded, the logo of a large vulture with straight metallic wings staring intensely at the screen. Salem had never seen the logo before, not on any of the Mortimer memorabilia in her house.

Im worried

But no, it wasn’t only her academic curiosity leading her. It was the thought that her sister had once been that dark mass on a beach somewhere and no one had seen her for a while.

WHAT

longish hair and a killer jawline, pun’s intention yet to be decided.

Whatever it was, it made her open the camera on her phone and press the button. Bright white flash blinded her momentarily, making her blink rapidly to clear her vision, the sound of the shutter alarmingly loud for a split second before it died under the rushing waves. “Tsk tsk tsk.” His chiding pierced the air. “You shouldn’t have done that.” She swallowed but stood her ground. He began casually walking backward, to the opposite side of the beach. “You just put yourself smack in the middle of a game you know nothing about.”

Oh noooo hes part of the "they" or he is gegenuinely trying to help?

Talking to her mother never did anything for her spirits, especially in the last year since her father’s whole incident, but she couldn’t avoid the woman, not when she was her only blood left.

Omg

Dr. Merlin, one of the most renowned psychologists in the world, with path-breaking papers published to his name and friends in high places beyond academia, was one of the draws of the course. He was also the only professor her sister had mentioned once beyond the classes. Once from anyone else could be ignored. Not from Olivia.

And right then, looking at this older man with a seemingly handsome smile, she felt something heavy, something wrong, in her lower stomach.

THIS WAS THE GUY TALKING TO HER SISTER I BET

“This is my TA, everyone,” Dr. Merlin said, his voice hard. “Caz.”

Oh I feel like i know things

Or maybe it was the ghost of her sister, with her floating hair and outstretched hand on top of that damned lighthouse, haunting her dreams at night and calling for her.

In the last ten years, a total of ten students had died at or around the university, ruled out as mostly accidents or suicides. Ten students, including her sister. And setting aside the unnamed girl she had found at the beach, since she had no information about her yet, each of the ten students who had died in the last decade had one thing in common. They had all applied for the award. Same award, different points in time.

Melissa extended her hand, and Salem took it. “Salem Salazar.” She saw the other girl’s brown eyes widen slightly. “Salazar as in the guy who k—” “Yeah.” Salem pulled back her hand. She wondered how long she’d have to live with the fact that after her sister died, her father had gone off the rails a few months later and killed a man, right before turning the gun on himself, leaving her mother and her behind with debt and stigma.

Oddly enough, Aditi, who had been the one to instigate and procure the drinks, only took a sip before keeping hers in her hand, completely untouched.

She had looked like a goddess, a mystical creature hovering over the dead, come to life from the sea behind her. And in that one instant, she had become his muse.

“Next week.” Caz nodded. The applications reopening meant only one thing—there was going to be a group meeting soon. Blood rushed through his veins, a heady feeling coursing through him. This was it. This was what he’d been waiting for. An opportunity, a last-ditch effort before he had to leave and lose all chance of finding answers. He had to succeed.

“Salem Salazar,” Baron said from the side, evidently following his gaze. He knew her name already. But he didn’t like that the others did too. Fuck. “As in Olivia Salazar?” Eric asked from his side, as if to confirm. “Yes, but don’t even think about it. She’s off-limits.” Double fuck. She was off-limits. It wasn’t that he was interested in her, but knowing she was off-limits didn’t sit well with him. He’d never been able to do well with being told what to do and what not to do. “Why do you think they haven’t already lapped her up?” Baron chuckled, his tone dry. “Her sister made sure she remains untouched.” The family of the deceased weren’t to be touched.

He had asked her to stay away and she had deliberately not. She’d thrown the gauntlet, and fuck him if he didn’t pick it up.

She’d thought she would get one over on them if they didn’t get her words. It had taken thirteen-year-old Salem exactly eight days to realize no one had even noticed.

And Salem hadn’t had any friends, none who would physically see her at least, so she’d decided to just stop speaking and channeled her verbiage into writing to her only friend. A fake friend.

A pendant that had been Olivia’s thirteenth birthday gift from their parents, one she wore all the time, every single day. A pendant they had never found, neither with her body nor in her possessions, and assumed someone had stolen. And someone had. She stared at it, shock coursing through her system, and realized he was watching her. “That’s my ex-wife’s. Beautiful, isn’t it?” He was lying. Salem turned to him, and saw the look on his face. He knew. He knew it was her sister’s. He knew that she knew. And he still had it out on full display, a mockery of her memory, the arrogance of the mind game he was playing astounding her.

her face. “Very pretty,” she agreed amicably, and saw the surprise in his eyes. He’d maybe expected her to react differently, or maybe now thought that she didn’t recognize it. Whatever it was, she didn’t care. She didn’t know what he had done or how he had gotten it, but she swore she would find out. She stared at the monster, and smiled in his face. “Have a nice night, Dr. Merlin.” If it was up to her, it would be one of his last. With that, she walked out.

“I wasn’t panicking” escaped her, and even she didn’t believe it. She had been panicking and he had witnessed it, and she doubted he was gentleman enough to not call her out on it. Her voice, though, was thankfully devoid of her earlier scare. She tried to settle her face into the unfazed expression everyone expected from her. “And I don’t want to kiss you,” he stated bluntly. “Neither is true.”

“Do you know how she died?” A shrug. Salem looked at his form, weighing the words in her mind, wondering how and if she should let them escape. “Did they make her do it?” Still. The pencil, his hand, his entire body, everything stilled.

“I can do sexy a lot harder than you, little asp. Be careful what games you play with me.”

For that alone, he had joined a group, infiltrated them, and was now doing their bidding, biding his time, just to get answers about someone he had loved and lost. He needed the truth, and to get to it, he would do whatever it took. Anything else be damned.

The girl, luckily for her, wasn’t seen as one, not yet. But an eye had to be kept on her. And if they were good at anything, it was watching. Always watching.

FUCK IM GETTING SPOOKED

“I wish sometimes it was you instead of your sister who had died. Olivia was so good. The world would be a better place with her and without you.” One of the girls behind Lara gasped at the cruel words, and Salem braced herself inside, not letting an iota of her internal flinch be reflected outside. It wasn’t like Lara was telling her anything she didn’t tell herself every other day, sometimes twice on the weekends.

“You mean beyond her being a jerk to me when she comes to BBC and calling my friend names?” Salem suddenly stopped in her tracks, making the other girl stop and look at her. “You mean me?” she asked, just to confirm. Aditi rolled her eyes again and put her hands on Salem’s shoulders. “Yes, I mean you. You’re my friend, Salem. And friends don’t let other people call their friends names.” An odd, almost bubbling sensation formed in the pit of her stomach. The words seeped into her brain. She had a friend and her friend had stood up for her. That meant something to her. “Okay.” She blinked rapidly, trying to dislodge whatever was stuck in her throat. That was an odd reaction too.

Caz van der Waal was an enigma, an unknown variable in her equation, an unsolved mystery, and she had always loved and hated those in equal measure.

“Couldn’t stay away, little asp?” he had asked, that annoying smirk twisting his lips and an unknown look glinting in his eyes that traced every visible inch of her lazily, almost sluggishly with fever. She had looked him up and down like he was inconsequential, raising a haughty eyebrow. “Who are you, again?” His eyes had heated at that, a wild glint coming into them. “Ask me again when your nipples aren’t begging for my mouth.”

“That hunky chonk of a man stands there every freaking day at this exact time. Why?” Salem didn’t want to think of it. She shrugged. “Maybe he just likes the spot.” Aditi sighed. “Oh, my naïve little flower. Maybe he just likes the view,” she suggested. “He knows this is our schedule, and he stands there and stares at you. And it’s not just here. Don’t think I haven’t heard about what you two do in the psych class. One of the girls on my floor tells me it’s like watching a mating dance, the way you two go off at each other. But even aside from that, it’s just the way he looks at you, like he’d eat you alive if he could. If he wasn’t so hot, it’d be really creepy.”

She saw Aditi hug other people sometimes, and knew it was her own air of aloofness that kept the other girl from doing the same to her. She knew she’d get a great hug if she asked, but she didn’t know how to ask. And deep down, she wondered what it felt like—a good, warm, tight hug that could release endorphins in her body and relieve her stress for a bit. Maybe even give her a few good hours of sleep. Maybe even make her happy. Was she even capable of that?

“Both as a Salazar and as—” he gave her a small grin “—goldengirl01?” Salem froze, her hand in his, and stared at the boy with new eyes, apprehension leaking into her bones. How the hell did he know of that?

Could he have been the teenage boy she had met that night eight years ago, the only one who could have possibly known that name and her in the same breath? No. Baron was too posh, and the teen boy had been rough.

In the Mortimer University group, everyone asked questions and posted pictures and commented on them. They were active and making friends. In Mortemia, there were no posts, none except from the users called admins. She dreaded, in the pit of her stomach, being tagged by them and given a task of some kind.

“I have a friend who can fix it for you by tomorrow,” he assured her. “Just tell me where to drop it off and I’ll leave it in a box for you. If I don’t, you can always tell everyone you saw me, right?” Right. That made sense. Quietly, she placed the phone in his hand and watched him pocket it. “Leave it at the East Academy front desk, for Salem, Floor Five.” She was the only one with that name on Floor 5. It felt better, knowing he didn’t know her last name or her address. “Alright, Salem. I’ll see you later.” With a nod, he walked backward into the woods, disappearing from sight. Salem went back to the party, wondering if she would see the boy or her phone again. She didn’t.

That was caz yeah?

She hadn’t known better and sent him some pictures, the kind a child should never have taken or shared with anyone even though she had been coerced, and after her phone was taken, she’d been removed from the group and those pictures had been all over the internet. Everyone in her school had seen them before they were taken down and her father had the story and the photos buried.

“I’ll take a rain check.” She turned to leave and felt him grip her bicep, turning her back around again to face him. “What’s going on with you?” Salem looked at him, puzzled. “You’ve been off the last few days,” he stated, daring her to defy his observation. “You’re not meeting with the girls in the block these days, you don’t go to the library, you’re distracted in class, and this is not the first morning I’ve seen you leave campus this early. You look dead on your feet. So, what the hell is going on with you?”

He noticed her breaking her pattern. He noticed her being off. He noticed her looking tired. She hadn’t said a word to anyone about the things weighing her down, and yet, somehow, he had noticed it. For the first time in her life. Someone had seen her. No, she wasn’t stunned. She wasn’t creeped out. She wasn’t aloof. She was moved.

“Did you do something?” “I don’t know,” he confessed, and Salem felt a pang of sympathy.

“You didn’t mention what you were majoring in, my dear?” the older lady asked her. Salem blinked and replied. “Journalism.” Did the university even have journalism? She couldn’t recall. The lady paled a shade. “Oh, dear.” Salem felt her eyes narrow slightly at the reaction. “What?” “Nothing.” The policewoman shook her head. “Just … A journalism major came to talk to me a few years ago too. He had been an applicant for the awards as well. Scholarship student too. His project had been similar to yours, some kind of survey about the university. It’s just so similar, I got déjà vu.”

Caz

“Would you maybe happen to remember his name? Just so I can see if he ever published his project and get some help?” The woman was shaking her head before Salem had finished talking. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible, my dear.” “Why?” The older lady leaned back in her chair. “Because his body was found a few weeks after he interviewed me. He had jumped down from the top of the damned lighthouse.”

Op not him

The woods were dark and creepy, shadows disappearing into the umbra, silhouettes of trees and branches moving in the wind suddenly seeming like dark hooded figures moving through the thicket.

“It’d be so easy right now, wouldn’t it?” he rasped against her ear, his lips touching the shell and sending shivers running marathons over the length of her body. “So easy to push you against his desk and fuck you raw.”

“Did you follow me tonight?” “Yes,” he answered simply. “Why?” He shrugged. “I had nothing better to do.” She doubted that. “So, what? You decided to stalk me instead?” “Why not?” His tone had zero remorse. “You’ve been acting weird, and I wanted to know why.

“Try it. Try walking off a cliff, I will block you. Try making yourself bait, I will catch you. And try being with another man, I will use his blood and make you the canvas.”