Unknown names

“I presume I will not be missed,” I said, gripping the handle of my bags tighter as I stepped out of the car. 

“Priscilla,” my mother said, cupping her cold hands with my face, “I will be in despair every day without you.”

I looked into her eyes as my heart unexpectedly fell into my gut, the way one’s does when they see an old friend unexpectedly. 

My mother grinned, “and your foolishness to believe me, makes the slightest disappointment of your departure…vanish” She sneered as I sighed and turned to my luggage. The building standing in front of me was one out of a horror movie. Gray pillars were shoved in the ground with vines covering the top and draping over the side. Beyond the school, there seemed to be an endless desert, with no living animals in sight. But the boarding school itself was a dreadful building. Shattered windows were plastered on the entire building, and ever so often a flying object would come cruising out of the sky. The building was sand colored, with cracks running up the side. It truly looked as though it was bound to collapse any minute. 

I sighed and turned to face my mother, “you had to send me to the most cliché boarding school that you could think of?”

My mother squinted and gripped my arms, and then she giggled. A high-pitched giggle that was on the brink of becoming a cackle. She took her voice down and hissed “I will hear nothing of you until May. I expect no letters to come in the mail. I expect not a word from the headmaster. Do I make myself clear?” She asked, inching closer with every word, her hot breath going in and out at a perfect tempo.  

I smirked, “crystal.”

I pulled my head away from hers, reaching back in the car to get my luggage, as my mother stayed very still. I knew that she was watching the school children enter, with their parents giving them a hug and a kiss goodbye, tears streaming down their cheeks. As soon as I emerged from the car, holding two dull gray suitcases in each hand, I turned to face her once again.

“Goodbye mother. I will see you in May,” I gave a sarcastic sigh, wishfully looking at the school. 

“Do not joke about this Priscilla,” she snapped, “there is a saying that you’ve heard many times. It can be used in almost all of your situations. Do you know which one I am referring to?” She started to walk in a slow circle around me, without giving me time to answer, “out of the woods. When one emerges from a… dreadful or difficult situation, they normally say, ‘we are out of the woods,’” she took a pause before continuing, “the phrase out of the woods means that one has come to safety, to a resting point, per say,” she now stopped directly in front of me, “I want you to know that you are not out of the woods yet. You are not safe. This is not your resting point,” she scowled, and her hot breath was once again blinding me.

I looked at my nails before looking back up at her, “see you on the other side,” I said, leaving her with nothing else, and trying my best to make my exit not look foolish because of my heavy luggage that was uncontrollable due to the uneven roads. I approached the school, watching as returning students hugged their parents and exchanged words of sentiment. Some of the first years in front of me had tears welling up in their eyes as they desperately clutched onto their parents. I heard one woman in front of me, “Charles, honey. You will write every day. When you come back for Thanksgiving I will give you more stamps. If you run out before, ask someone where you can borrow some more. Oh god Charles,” she said, pulling the boy into another embrace, “be braver than I am. Be brave for the both of us” she sniffed, watching as he entered the stone school doors that were five times his size, and the only part of the building with any color.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, not realizing the woman in front of me had been talking to me for a while, “Hello? Ma’am. Hello?” She asked. One could tell she was a tall figure, even though she was sitting behind a desk. There was a tight bun sitting on top of her head made of her raven hair. Red lipstick painted her lips, but there seemed to be more on her teeth. Her gray eyes scanned me up and down as she reached for another pencil.

“First, middle, and last name?” She asked.

“Priscilla Angra-Mainyu”

“Spelling?”

 “P-r-i-s-c-i-l-l-a is my first name. A-n-g-r-a dash m-a-i-n-y-u is my last”

The woman furiously scribbled something down on her paper, “First year?”

“No ma’am. I’m a year four. But this is my first year attending…” I racked my brain for the name of the school, trying to think about what my mother had told me. When that had failed, I looked around, searching for someone with the name of the school on their uniform.

“You will be in dorm D-37. Floor 4. Your roommate should already be there” the woman handed me the paper that she had been writing on, not looking up from her desk, “this will have all your classes, all your information about your teachers and such. It’s double sided” she added as she saw my confused expression, “there is also a book in your room that is moderately large called ‘The Guide’. It will have all other information about your school year” she said, her tone implying that I had wasted too much of her time, “next!”

I followed the sand-colored pathway to the doors, my suitcases just barely rolling. When I entered, I realized the building on the outside gave one a wrong idea about what waited on the inside. The walls were made of dark wood that looked like water had been run down it repeatedly. There was one donut-shaped black couch in the middle, and students were repeatedly going over the back of it to sit down. Long tables were pressed against the wall, with lamps that gave off gray light and books that seemed to be identical. Students conversed and hugged each other, marveling over each others new books and shoes. I showed myself to the elevator, pressing the button with an arrow facing upwards and waiting for it.

“Doesn’t work” A boy said who came behind me.

“God, just sneak up on me. I’m good. I’ll figure it out” I said, shooing him along.

“It doesn’t work” he repeated, “hasn’t worked since I first came here. Everyone knows this. Which means you either are suffering from amnesia or you’re new.”

I didn’t laugh. Instead, I observed the boy in front of me. He had poorly cut curly hair that could’ve been described as dirty blond, but in reality was just brown hair with faded bleach. He met my eyes almost exactly. To be fair, I was fairly tall for a girl, so it was no surprise. His eyes were green, but not the piercing kind.  

“Tough crowd. Come, I’ll take you to the stairs” he said, taking two of my bags. I was in no place to deny help, but that didn’t stop me. 

“I’m good. You can go. Goodbye” I said, snatching my bags back and turning to the rest of the crowd.

“Wrong way” he said, squatting down and inserting a key in a keyhole I hadn’t noticed in a square next to the elevator, “the architect of this building hid all kinds of secret passageways and such. Random inscriptions line the walls of them. The one thing he forgot to add was a normal way to get around” he explained, pushing down on the small square and starting down the stairs that had been revealed. 

I gave him a scoff, even though he was out of earshot, and followed him down. 

“I didn’t get a key” I said, recognizing his figure a little bit further in front of me. The luggage that I was carrying made a clamorous sound, each one going at it’s own pace. 

“You aren’t going to until Thanksgiving. The entire idea is that every time you must go somewhere, you interact with other students. Of course, it’s highly annoying and most definitely not ideal” His voice seemed deeper, more ominous in the stairwell.

“Is there a light or something? I can barely see five feet ahead of me” I asked, trying to close my eyes and reopen them to try and find what little light there may have been.

“I passed it already. The light switch. Run your hands along the side and you should feel it”

“What hands?” I asked, grinning to myself, “they both are holding my bags” 

“Alright. There should be another one right-t-t-t- here”

All of a sudden the room was illuminated. I was so startled I dropped all my bags and tumbled down to the floor, my luggage following not shortly behind. Each stair added a new bruise as I let out small yelp. My head was moving in ways that one does when they have a seizure, and my arms desperately reached for something to grab onto. Eventually I stopped, reaching the cold, hard, stone floor. My bags landed on top of me, each of them knocking my breath out over and over again. 

“Still not going to ask for my help?” He asked, turning to me with a look of bore on his face. 

I let my body relax and made something that hopefully resembled a nod. I felt him walk around to my side and take each bag off my back. 

“My back is broken” I sighed after trying to get up. 

“Come on” he offered me his hand and I reached out for it. He had a noticeably strong grip that pulled me up with yet another startle. 

I got up and brushed myself off, taking two of the handles of my bags, one in each hand, and starting to walk alongside the guy. He had a serious look on his face, focusing intently on the pathway in front of him. 

“I didn’t catch your name” I said, trying to break the tension in the air.

“Warren Barone. People aren’t big on names here. Do not ask a teacher for theirs, they are simply ‘teacher’, ‘ma’am’ or ‘mister’” he told me.

“That’s peculiar, is it not?” I questioned, “what else are we supposed to go by?”

“Numbers. Your uniform has yours inscribed in it. It should be in your dorm. It’s ever so…”

“Cliché” I finished for him.

He turned to face me, “cliché” he repeated, as if he was clarifying it, “I don’t think you’ve noticed the school doesn’t even have a name. It’s simply just a symbol. It looks similar to a boat” he pointed to the symbol on his uniform in the upper right hand corner.

“No” I started, examining it closely, “that’s one of the designs on my mother’s carpets. I mean, you’re correct in the fact it looks like a boat, but it isn’t, it’s supposed to be a dragon” I explained, “it’s supposed to symbolize power. It’s on many Persian carpets I think” 

A look of discomfort took form on his face, only “Huh. Never knew that. Well, you learn something new every day. And we’re here!” He said, dragging out his last word.

“But… we didn’t even take a flight of stairs?” 

“The pathway is at an incline. It takes forever, but you don’t know you’re walking up. I’m assuming you’re on floor four?” He asked.

“You assumed correct. D-37” I told him, hoping that he would know what it meant.

He scanned me up and down as if I had just dropped on the floor dead, “Are you…are you sure?” He stuttered.

I looked back down at the paper I had been given, “Um… yeah…? Is everything okay?” I asked at his revised look of astonishment.

“Well, not only are we sharing that dorm, but that also happens to be a… well… you’ll see” he started to walk faster, and I practically had to jog. I knew that my questions weren’t going to be answered, but that didn’t keep me from asking them.

“What’s so bad about D-37? Hello? Is it like… an executive suite? Or is it the opposite of that?” I asked, following him through the twists and turns.

All of a sudden he came to a halt, and if we had been living in a movie, the sound of screeching tires would’ve been inserted. 

“I need you to know that when I open this door, I had nothing to do with whatever is waiting inside. It is out of my control” he stated, “Do you understand?”

“Not at all. But for some reason, I trust you” I told him, “and I don’t trust anyone.” 

“That statement is about to be even more true” he said as he slowly opened the chocolate colored wood doors. 

I couldn’t reconcile that with the fact that it was a dead body laying in front of me. 

Silence swept over the room. There was no whirring of an air conditioner. There was no one cooking something on the stove. There were no lights being switched on and off. It was silent. 

Warren took a step forward, crouching down to get a better look at the body, “It’s a teacher. I think her name was… oh god I can’t remember. Oh my god. This damn no-name system. She was a year 3 English teacher who we all know wanted to be a history teacher. She was into symbology. Like that one book, ‘The Da Vinci Code’”

“I never read that book. My mother had one too many copies though, for no apparent reason. But would you like to explain what the hell is going on, why this English teacher is dead in our dorm. And also why a girl and a boy are sharing a dorm.” 

“You…you’re going to want to sit down. Probably not in this room” he stuttered, leading me to the kitchen.

“Where to start. Alright. Every seven years, there is one room where a major crime is committed. Now, you may be wondering why. Just as I did when I first came here. Basically, it is a way for us to practice things like noticing details, taking account of things, how to piece together puzzles, et cetera”

I felt my jaw drop, “YOU KNOW, THERE’S OTHER WAYS TO PRACTICE THAT WITHOUT KILLING A LIVE PERSON” I shrieked. 

Warren started to pace, “I know I know. I- I just…” he looked up and started to breath heavily, “what’s your name again?”

“Priscilla. Priscilla Angra-Mainyu” I responded, picking at my nails. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, “Angra-Mainyu?”

“Angra-Mainyu” I confirmed.

“Priscilla. There is so much to this. There are one thousand kids who attend this school. We were chosen for a reason. As… cliché as that sounds. And your very name might be the start of it” he pulled out a notepad and a pen that had been sitting in his pants. 

“Angra-Mainyu. Do you know who that is in Persian culture?” He asked.

I shook my head, “essentially, it means destructive spirit or mentality…flowing through your blood. I think. The definition my mother always used to describe it was straight from the internet, so it didn’t make much sense. ‘hypostasis of the destructive spirit/mentality’”

“Okay” I said taking longer breaths, “and your last name is similar warrior in Latin and German. And your first name means loyal, also in German. So in essence, your full name is…”

“Loyal warrior” he finished, “Priscilla. That name is a biblical name. It means ancient. So your name means, ancient destructive spirit/mentality. There’s no way this is a coincidence” he concluded, “It’s not possible this was a coincidence”

“Damn right it wasn’t” a voice said. It was low and raspy, and was standing right in front of us. The woman who had been dead minutes ago stood in front of me, blood stained all over her body, “and I’m not going to let you figure it out. Gotta nip it in the bud. You’re going to want to die in the dark. Both literally and figuratively. Bet your mother used that expression with you Priscilla” she chuckled which led to a cough attack, “you’re a smart bunch. But it’s only been five years since the last school attack. This” she gestured to the blood seeping out of her stomach, “this wasn’t planned. It’s time to go” she let out a cackle that was not long lived, as it was followed by a coughing attack and then the lights being switched off, “night night children” she sneered as a scream was let out next to me.