Chapter 7 LOCKER 108.

Chapter 7 LOCKER 108.
STORM'S POV:

I didn't sleep that night. Not really. My body still ached from the earlier attack, my lungs burned from the way he'd held me still, forcing me to breathe through the panic, but it wasn't just that. My mind refused to quiet down.

Lucian's words replayed on a loop. Low, deliberate and cold. 

“ Submission is the price for your silence. Cross me, and no one would save you.” 

I hated that those words echoed in my head long after he was gone. I hated that part of me still remembered the warmth of his touch, the restrained fury in his gaze, the strange calm that came when he was near. 

He terrified me. And yet, not seeing him terrified me even more. 

  
    I hadn't seen him since that night. A part of me wanted to ask if he has been watching me all along. It wouldn't surprise me. Lucian was the kind of man who preferred shadows over explanations. 

But, I knew better than to ask. He'd ignore me, like always. Pretend as if he didn't hear the question and walk away, leaving me grasping at silence. Somehow, that kind of dismissal unsettled me more than his threats. 

By morning, the atmosphere in the academy had changed. Sharper. Colder. Like the walls themselves were whispering.

Every hallway conversation seemed to stop when I walked by. Every stare lingered too long. I tried to keep my head down, stay quiet. Stay ‘Andrew Walton’ The identity forced on me. But lately, even that disguise felt paper thin.

A group of students stepped in front of me as I rounded the corner. One of them shoved me lightly. “ Whoa, look who it is?” A boy sneered. 

“ Andrew Walton, what did you steal this time, huh?” I opened my mouth to respond, but laughter cut me off.

“ Guess we'll never know.” Another voice added, and they walked away, leaving me staring after them, heart hammering. 

The first disappearance had barely shaken the students. “ Probably ran away.” They said, But then, it happened again. And again. Three students in less than two weeks, gone without a trace. 

The academy buzzed with rumors that spread faster than truth ever could. 

And somehow, each one found its way back to me. Andrew Walton. The boy who arrived out of nowhere. The one who's always alone. 

It started with whispers, then snide remarks. “ Always disappears when something goes wrong.” 

“ Creepy, isn't he?” Maybe he's the reason they are gone.”

By evening, the tension broke.

The principal's voice broke from the speakers, cold and brittle with authority.

“ Effective immediately, a curfew is in place. No student is to be seen outside their dorms after eight o’clock. 
Anyone caught wandering will face immediate punishment. Until the investigation into the recent disappearances is concluded - this academy is on lockdown.”

The announcement silenced the halls, but inside me, panic began to build. Rules like that always came too late. 

That night, as I made my way to my dorm, a folded piece of paper lay on my bed. No envelope, Just my name - Andrew Walton, scribbled on it.

My pulse stuttered. 

Locker 108. Midnight. Don't make me come find you.

Lucian.

For a second, I just stared at it. My mind is spinning. Lucian, writing a letter? That was new. He preferred materializing out of nowhere. Like some ghost that followed no human logic. But a handwritten note? That was too deliberate, too quiet. 

I checked the time. 8:42. Past curfew. 

A sane person would have ignored it. Locked the door. Slept through whatever mind game he was trying to play. But, Lucian was never just playing. And I knew from experience, he didn't follow rules, curfews or boundaries.

“ Of course,” I muttered, under my breath, stuffing the note inside my pocket.

“ He couldn't just knock like a normal person,” 

Still, I went. 

The corridors were eerily silent, lights flickering weakly. My footsteps sounded too loud against the marble floors. My fingers brushed against the cold metal of my locker as I reached for it.

Nothing. Not even a mere sight of Lucian lurking in the shadows.

Strange.

I frowned, glancing around. The hallway was empty, shadows stretching across the walls. I exhaled and pulled the locker open - 

And froze.

Inside, stacked carelessly, were torn clothes. Crumpled papers, a student's uniform shirt - soaked in dried, rusty blood. The metallic smell hit me first, sharp and undeniable. Then came the nausea, twisting through my stomach like a knife. 

I stumbled back, my body slamming into the locker behind me. A sound rippled out of my throat before I could stop it. A small strangled scream that echoed down the hallway. 

Lights flashed from a distance. Voices. Security.

My breath hitched. No, no, no.

Realization struck like ice in my veins. Someone had set me up. This was planted. And now…. I was standing right in front of it. 

I slammed the locker shut, fumbling with the lock, my fingers trembling. My heart pounded so loud, it drowned everything else out. The beam of a flashlight sliced through the corridor, drawing closer.

“ Who’s there?” A guard barked.

Panic surged through me. I turned, ready to run- “ Don't move!”

The command hit me like a slap, stopping me dead in my tracks. 

I froze, the light now fixed on me. My name tag glinted under the beam from behind me. Even if I ran, they'd know exactly who I was. 

Andrew Walton. The one everyone already suspected.

I could feel my throat closing. The guards’ footsteps grew louder, the clink of their belts, echoing off the walls. 

And for the first time in days, I realized Lucian wasn't here. No shadow in the corner. No silent figure waiting to clean up the mess.  

Just me.

Caught. 

Trapped under the watchful eyes of everyone who already believed I was guilty. 
    A thousand thoughts raced through my mind all at once. What was Lucian driving at? I wanted to curse him, scream at him, and demand answers. But, even if I did, he wouldn't appear. He thrived in absence, on control. On the slow gnawing of fear.

And yet… a part of me- a stupid, infuriating part, wished he was here. Because if he was, maybe I wouldn't feel so utterly alone in this. 

Maybe his presence, terrifying as it was, would make the danger bearable.   

But as the guards’ voices drew closer, a cold thought cut through the panic—
      What if it wasn't him? What if someone else had used his name, his shadow, to set me up?
     Because no explanation, no protest, could undo what someone had meticulously planned.