The Vespertine School of Experimental Thought

The walls spoke sometimes, which wasn’t something Admissions had been clear about when Elias first arrived at the Vespertine School of Experimental Thought. But there was no doubt. He heard them whispering sweet nothings into the students’ ears. The first time, Elias could have sworn the gothic architecture quaked when his head whipped toward the voice, as if the building itself delighted in finally being heard.

He was insane. Clearly. At least, that’s what he told himself. Yet, the awareness did nothing to quiet the chatter.

Meet them at the tower.

At first, he didn’t understand the incoherent phrases. He tried not to listen as he passed the department of Temporal Anomalies, and he tried not to react when he spoke to Professor Tankleton about his paper on Cognitive Reconstruction. Still, they continued.

Don’t forget the Tower.

Meet them at the Tower.

…The Crown Fits the Sharpest Mind. Ascend.

The last one stuck with Elias as much as he hated to admit it. He kept telling himself he wouldn't go. He was not here for any crown. Just knowledge. And yet, after a month of resistance, he found himself trudging the many stairs up to the abandoned Tower classroom slightly after curfew. He ran a finger along the wall and found the signature etched into the stone. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he kept going.

As he reached the top, he pushed open the large oak door to find a long classroom, dusty and damaged, with five student desks circled at the center. Three of them were filled by other students. They all stood at his arrival, and Elias did not bother to hide his groan.

Westley Westbrook pushed a hand through his perfect blonde hair and smirked at Elias.

“Look what the cat dragged in, eh? What took you so long, Stray?”

Elias bristled. Of all the students, it had to be this guy. “Well, Westley, I was waiting for the smell of cologne and condescension to clear out before I showed up. Looks like I miscalculated.”

Westley smiled as if he enjoyed their constant banter.

Delilah Davenport snorted and flipped her honey blonde hair. “It’s you? You're the final student?”

This hurt Elias a little bit. He’d been pining after Delilah since she showed him to his first classes when he arrived.

Eloise Fairchild spoke up, smoothing her plaid skirt as she did. “We’ve obviously been chosen; we all deserve to be here.”

A voice came from a darkened corner of the room. There are voices in the walls, and you all think this is a good thing?” Calder Voss slipped from the darkness, his leather duster whispering across the floor as he moved.

His dark hair fell into his eyes as he turned to Elias, “What took you so long?”

Elias balked at him. “What took me so long? Excuse me for not wanting to follow the voices in the walls.”

Westley sighed, “See? This is what you get for letting just anybody in.”

“Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice, Wes?” asked Calder.

Eloise ran her fingers through her dark hair. “What did the voices say to you, Elias?”

They all turned to him.

Strange. It was as if the air shifted then. Elias licked his lips, tasting silver. Metallic. He shook his head.

He pondered the advantages of lying to them all and came up with none.

“They just kept telling me to come here.”

Eloise asked, “Was there mention of a crown?”

His eyes narrowed, and he nodded.

Westley threw his hands up, Delilah let out a bitter laugh, and Calder moved back to the shadows.

"So... this is some sort of competition?" Eloise asked, placing her notebook and pen that she had been carrying on the table.

Westley clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "I am always ready for a challenge."

Elias snorted, "Yeah? What are you going to do? Call Daddy for some money?"

This made Westley's hands fall and clench at his sides.

“Not all of us want to play 'secret society',” murmured Calder.

Westley sat back down with a huff. “Why did you come then, buddy? To make new friends? You knew something was going on when you climbed those stairs, didn't you?"

Calder said nothing but perched on a ledge to look out one of the dust-covered windows.

They froze again, and Elias watched it all happen. Like a glitch in time. The temperature dropped, and his breath turned visible. The others stayed in place, drifting along until time started back up again, and Elias could only contemplate that he was truly losing his mind.

“Is there something wrong with this place?” he asked the room.

The others looked at him and for a split second he thought he saw demon versions, horns and crazy hair, and sharp teeth, but then they were just young men and women again, looking to him as if he had answers.

"What do you mean?" asked Delilah.

"You don't feel that?" Elias asked her back.

They looked at him as if they were trying to understand, just on the edge of learning something important, but it seemed to pass over them. "Feel... what?" Calder asked.

"The temperature changes? That shift in... something. It's hard to pinpoint. Like we've been here before."

"...Deja vu," murmured Eloise.

"How long have you all been waiting here?" asked Elias.

Westley looked at his expensive watch and tapped at the glass. He plastered a fake smile on his face. "Looks like this thing's broken."

A strange stillness settled in the room. Delilah, Eloise, and Westley exchanged uncertain glances. From across the room, Calder tapped a finger against the cracked windowpane. A soft tok tok tok.

“The birds,” he murmured. “They’re not moving.”

They all turned to him.

“Look.”

Outside, two turtledoves hovered midair—wings flapping, caught in some invisible drag. They drifted, sluggish and struggling, barely making headway against the brutal ocean winds.

It was like time itself had thickened.

"Hang on a minute." Eloise sat down at the table with Westley and opened the leatherbound notebook, flipping through pages scrawled in her hectic handwriting. She paused on a page and placed her finger on a particular sentence, then looked up at the others. "Have you heard the rumors about this place?"

Delilah came to sit at the table with them, "Of course, who hasn't?"

Eliose pushed her. "What do you know?"

Delilah let out an exasperated sigh as if she always had to do all the work. "Do you guys even talk to people? How do you not know this?"

They said nothing, and Delilah rolled her eyes. "Headmaster Vale. He ran the school seven years ago. He had made endless discoveries on the topic of Misplaced Energy. Until he jumped from that very spot and ended his own life."

She pointed at the floor just in front of the tall broken window, and they all turned to look. Wind gusted through, turning the pages of Eloise's notebook and setting everyone on edge. When they stopped, Eloise pulled the notebook closer to her. Her eyes widened.

Elias spoke up, "What does it say, Eloise?"

She shook her head and slammed the book closed. "I can't."

They all cocked their heads at her.

"How are we supposed to win this supposed crown if you don't play along?" Westley asked.

She looked at Westley, her eyes burning holes into him. "Trust me, West. I don't think this is something you want people to know."

Westley's cocky attitude slipped for a moment as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Or maybe you just want the crown for yourself?"

Eloise blushed.

Westley gestured at the book. "You're the one with the notes. The knowledge. Spreading your rumors here so that we'll lean into it. Suspicious if you ask me."

Calder stood up and came to sit with the rest of them at the table. "We all came here, Westley. We all heard the calls of the crown and came running. So don't act like you're better than that."

"Oh, give me a break. What, we're all friends now? What kind of competition is this?" Delilah asked.

Elias spoke up. "One that crowns us with death."

They all turned to him, fear seeping through the calm demeanors they tried to maintain.

"Where are you getting that ludicrous idea?" asked Delilah.

Calder leans back in his chair. "It's not crazy, actually. It makes sense. What if the Tower isn't crowning a leader? What if it's crowning its sacrifice?"

The stillness thickened, settling into their bones as the truth sank in.

"That's absurd," said Delilah.

"Is it?" asked Elias. "Tell me something, why do you think the Tower picked us?"

They all hesitated. Eloise tapped on the notebook in front of her. "It's not looking for the most brilliant, or the sharpest wit. It's looking for the most... broken."

They sat with that information for a moment, each of their minds swirling with the reality that they were not here to be the best or the brightest.

"It wants the one who will bend. Or break," said Calder.

The wind picked up again, whistling loudly through the hole in the open window, a jagged and painful sound, the wail of souls between worlds.

Elias stood up and walked to the entrance. "Let's prove it wrong."

Delilah scoffed, "How?"

Elias pulled at the heavy door. It didn’t budge.

"Eloise, what's in the notebook? What did it say?"

She cringed, "It's a list... of all the horrible things we've done or have happened to us. It's our truths we've come to hide."

He turned from the door. "Then, let's do it one better. Let's be honest."

They all looked at him like he was crazy, like they had been avoiding honesty for all of their lives.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll go first, then." Elias swallowed.

"When I was six, my mother died here. They found her signature etched into the stone in the stairwell. Because she wasn't anyone of importance, just the wife of a renowned professor, they kept everything hidden. But now I understand, she came for the crown. That was fourteen years ago..."

Silence. The air shifted again, but Elias kept his eyes closed.

Calder spoke next, his voice low. "My father's money ran out long ago. The only reason he's been able to keep me in this school all this time is because I am actually intelligent. I managed to get a scholarship, which he kept hidden because he thought it would make him look bad..."

Elias smiled sadly at him.

Delilah cleared her throat. "My family plans to marry me off to some foreign ally so we can further our indoctrination of their culture..."

"Jesus..." murmured Calder.

Delilah shot him a look but said nothing.

Eloise raised a hand. "My family has a long history of mental health issues, including schizophrenia. They believe I am next. That's why the voices were so... scary, at first. But also why I couldn't ignore them."

Delilah's eyes widened. Calder reached out to squeeze her shoulder. Westley stood, moving away from the circle of desks, his voice strained. "This is ridiculous. You're going to listen to the girl with the mental health issues?"

Eloise lowered her head, but Elias stood. "Oh, because you're the golden boy, right?"

Westley cringed.

The ground shook, jarring Elias until he fell forward toward his chair.

Choose.

It was a word in Elias' mind, but he could see the others' faces and knew they heard it too.

"Westley!"

Westley's face paled, but he gulped in air and yelled against the grinding of stone against stone.

"My brother was supposed to come here. But he... "

Stone pieces fell from the ceiling.

"Come here," Elias called to them, and they gathered around him, creating a circle. He grabbed at Westley's shoulders and shook him. "What happened, Westley?"

Westley's breathing picked up. He panted out. "He died. My brother died. And now, I am in his place instead of him. And I shouldn't be here. I should be the one to wear the crown, to end this madness."

"No," Elias said. "It's not your fault, Wes. It's not your fault."

The walls groaned.

Choose. Choose. CHOOSE.

Each word slammed into the walls like a tolling bell. The air rippled, and the desks screeched across the floor moving outward. Westley and Elias pushed the others so they would not be hit.

"Stay together," Elias shouted.

The five of them locked arms. The wind started again, screaming into the high ceiling, splintering the windows further.

CHOOSE.

"We choose each other!" shouted Westley.

Chunks of stone rained down from above, and with a deafening crash, a massive piece of the ceiling slammed into the locked oak door. It exploded off its hinges in a spray of dust and splinters, light flooding into the room like a tidal wave.

The Tower shrieked—an echo of ancient fury, or maybe grief—and then…

Stillness.

They didn’t speak. They just stood together for a moment, breathless and wide-eyed, hands linked.

Then Elias whispered, “Let’s go.”

No one argued.

They stepped over the shattered remains of the door and began their descent. Back to school. Back to their lives.

Sometimes, when they passed the Tower, they could have sworn they heard it -- scratching, begging, whispering. Asking.

Choose

But they always kept walking.