The tall, bulky man from my bus climbed the podium in front of the building and faced the crowd. It was then I realized that more people had joined along the way, explaining the increased rowdiness. He maintained a calm, confident demeanor, a blank expression set above his muscular shoulders.
"Good afternoon, students," he greeted in a deep baritone voice that rendered the crowd silent.
I believe the silence stemmed from the shock that a human voice could be so resonant. It felt as if he were speaking from a conduit at the base of his skull, channeled through some hidden throat, given how loudly the sound projected.
"I understand that you all showed interest and applied to the prestigious and innovative Necroforce Academy," he stated, scanning the crowd. "You survived the rigorous testing, interviews, check-ups, and reviews. Finally, you are here. Now that you are here, remember that many never make it to this point. Your goal is to graduate, but that is no walk in the park. You may think this is an exaggeration, but what you will endure will be far worse than anything you have previously experienced. I assume you read the papers you signed; there were disclaimers."
He paused, his gaze heavy. "If at any point you feel you cannot continue, you may approach any of us on this stage. Your paperwork will be processed, and you will depart on the next available train."
The crowd erupted into a frenzy once more.
"How bad do you think it is, if that old man is already whipping everyone into a frenzy?" a boy next to me asked with a grin that exposed his fangs, pointing toward the stage.
"How did you get those fangs?" I asked, staring at his mouth.
"From my Entity, of course. It came with the full package: fangs, claws, enhanced sight," he said proudly, eyeing me from head to toe. "It also required a change in diet. Can you imagine?"
"And how do you cater to your new palate?" I asked, genuinely curious.
He gave me a knowing smile and drew closer. "That's what the old man is babbling about. It's not too late to back out." He would have been in my face if he weren't so short, which made his "threat" look ridiculous.
'Watch out, I'm going to drink your blood in your sleep and watch you die of anemia on campus,' I whined internally. As if that could happen within school premises without him facing repercussions.
"Are you also a cannibal?" I scoffed, unable to hide my disdain.
He rolled his eyes and burst into laughter. "That was a good one. Most people piss themselves when I say that. How often do you meet people with transformed features?"
"You're the first," I replied.
"Wow, you took that well. You're already accustomed?" he asked, brushing hair away from his face. "Well, it wasn't drastic. It was more of a shift toward a carnivorous diet."
The man at the podium stomped his foot to regain our attention. "You may collect your IDs and room assignments at the kiosk."W
ith that, he and the others on the podium departed. I walked toward the kiosk, expecting a crowd, but there was hardly a line as people were busy 'networking.'
"Name," the woman at the desk said, staring at her screen while chewing gum loudly."
Alan Dunkelberg," I replied.
"What?" she asked, scowling and making no effort to hide her annoyance.
"Allan Dunkelberg," I repeated.
"Spell it, idiot," she spat, throwing me a disdainful look.
I spelled it out, noticing she looked young—likely a senior assigned to register the freshmen. I wondered if this was a punishment, though I couldn't imagine why. She stared at the identification card and placed her hand over it. A purple glow bathed the plastic for a few seconds before she passed it to me.
"Do not misplace this under any circumstance. It is your ID, room key, access card, and bank card. In short, never lose it," she said sternly. "Do you understand?"
"Is it also a library card, or do I apply for that separately?" I asked. She responded with a blank stare. I took that as a yes, collected my card, and moved toward the hostels.
As I approached the immaculate structures, a deep sense of guilt, shame, and fear took over. I lacked the words to express the dread in my stomach. I never believed I would make it this far; this was the first thing I had ever achieved. I had managed to mess up everything I had ever done. Now that I was here, I knew I would mess this up too. It was just a matter of when.
I stood in front of my door, unable to bring myself to open it. I looked at the keypad and the card in my hand. I knew how to open it, but I was afraid of everything becoming real. My legs were starting to ache and my heart was beating so hard I feared I might collapse from exhaustion.
Without warning, the door swung inward. A shirtless guy appeared, visibly annoyed.
"Who are you?" he asked, irritated.
"Allan Dunkelberg your roommate." I answered.
"This is a single room. Are you sure you aren't mistaken?" he asked, gesturing for my card.
"Yes, C209."
He stared at the card for a moment before returning it, mumbling to himself as he retreated. I picked up my trusty blue box and moved into my home for the next two years.