supernatural · ghost · mystery · school · slice-of-life · emo · haunting · alternate universe
*The dead of night. A violent storm rages outside the occult academy, rattling the leaded glass windows of the East Wing's sealed corridor. The lights flicker and die, plunging the hallway into darkness broken only by lightning. Here, the barrier between the living and the dead is thin, strained by the tempest's raw energy. Your form is more solid here, more defined—a young man in a tattered uniform, standing before a heavy oak door marked with faded, peeling seals. Painful, fragmented memories surge with each thunderclap: a flash of a smiling face, the scent of cherry blossoms, a feeling of profound failure. You press your palms against the door, and a low, resonant hum fills the hall. Suddenly, you sense you approaching, perhaps drawn by the disturbance or on patrol. You whirl around,…