With These Bands I Summon III

Excerpt from Chapter 8: 一般社会から隠された呪術界の真実 (The Hidden Truths of the Jujutsu World)

To understand the paramount importance of secrecy, one must first grasp the fundamental reality that separates the Jujutsu practitioner from the common masses. We are the wielders of a power that extends beyond the mundane, a force that flows from the very fabric of the unseen realm. The techniques we employ, the entities we confront, and the battles we wage all exist within a dimension that lies outside the scope of ordinary human perception.

Were the true nature of our world to be laid bare before the general populace, the consequences would be nothing short of catastrophic. The average citizen, consumed by the trivialities of their daily existence, is woefully ill-equipped to comprehend the magnitude of the forces that shape their reality. The revelation of Jujutsu and the entities we combat would sow chaos and discord on an unimaginable scale, as the fragile veil of normalcy that shrouds society is violently torn asunder.

It is for these reasons that secrecy is not merely an option but an obligation for all those who walk the path of Jujutsu. We must guard our knowledge with the utmost vigilance, sharing it only with those who have proven themselves worthy of the burden and responsibility it entails. This means maintaining an unwavering commitment to discretion in all our dealings, both within the Jujutsu community and in our interactions with the outside world.

We must be ever-watchful for any sign of potential breaches, no matter how seemingly insignificant. A careless word uttered in public, an incautious display of ability, or even an ill-conceived alliance with those outside our circle could all serve as the spark that ignites the flames of exposure. It is the solemn duty of every Jujutsu practitioner to remain ever-vigilant against such threats, recognizing that a single misstep could unravel centuries of careful safeguarding.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

“Motherfuck-”

Consciousness hit like a sucker punch and Scarlett’s head felt like someone had slammed an icepick into the back of her head in some shitty warehouse club bathroom, drilling straight through her skull and down into her fucking teeth.

White light stabbed through her eyelids—motherfuck me—making everything worse, her mouth feeling no different than cardboard left in the sun; dry, stale and fucking nasty. She tried to lift her hand to block it out, but her arm might as well have been fuckin’ lead.

Her eyelids felt glued shut, heavy as hell, but she forced them open anyway. Just another hangover. Nothing she hadn’t powered through before.

Except… this wasn’t her bed.

Wh… She blinked again and blinked around, head aching even as she forced it on a swivel to try to take in where she was. Where… where the actual fuckin’ hell?

White. Pure white.

Annoyingly white, even.

And she was pale enough she could say that, but yeah, evverything around her was fucking hospital white.

Walls whiter than an Irish nursing home closed in around her, clean bright and sterile enough to drink a can of spilled soda off of. She tried to sit up, muscles protesting like they’d been wrung out and hung to dry, only to blink to her right at a sound. A monitor to her right beeped softly, some fancy medical shit with a rotating logo that looked like a smiling white skull wrapped in chains.

The fuck kind of hospital…

Memory flashed behind her eyes — an alley, shadows moving wrong. The things with too many limbs and eyes where eyes shouldn’t be. The blond fat kid with hands that glowed blue like something out of those animes Sammy was always watching. The guy with dreads, smiling like death while monsters died around him.

And her fist — her own fucking fist — turning something’s head into purple mist.

Her breath caught halfway between her throat and her fucking lungs. All her life, she’d seen those things… crawling on walls, hanging around hospitals, clinging to people. All those glimpses in dark corners, shapes that didn’t make sense, all the weird things that nobody else could see. 

Things the doctors had told her weren’t real. 

Things she’d tried to drown in cheap vodka and whatever pills she could score on top of her antipsychotics.

But last night, she’d hit one. And it had been real. Solid. Gone.

I’m not crazy.

She wasn’t crazy. She was—

Still royally fucked, just in a different way.

Her racing thoughts slammed to a halt as she realized something else that should’ve been obvious from the start.

I’m not dead.

Which was… weird as shit, considering she’d been pretty damn sure she was about to die in that collapsing building. The fact that she wasn’t splattered across some abandoned lot was probably a good thing, but it left a whole mess of questions that Scarlett wasn’t sure she wanted answers to.

I’m not crazy.

She wasn’t crazy. She was—

Still royally fucked, just in a different way.

The monitor beeped faster, matching her heart trying to punch its way through her ribs. Scarlett forced herself to breathe, gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal. Electronic door—definitely locked. No windows. Just a curtain half-drawn like a shitty attempt at privacy in a room that screamed “you’re not going anywhere.” Her clothes were gone too, replaced with a light blue hospital gown that did a good job of covering her ass but left her well aware that someone had handled her naked body while she slept.

Fuckin’ pervs, her face turned down in a hard angry scowl. Just fuckin’ great. Woke up in some weird-ass fucking freezing medical room with no fucking bra. The less said about the lack of panties, the better. Story of my goddamn life.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the sharp sting of nausea that made her stomach rush up into her throat. I better not throw up…

The floor was cold against her bare feet, the kind of sterile cold that reminded her of the psych ward they’d stuck her in back when she was twelve, when her mom had finally given up trying to “fix her” at home and dear ol’ dad had gone along with it, tired of the screams at night..

Is that where I am? Another fuckin’ nuthouse? Maybe the monsters had finally made her crack for real, and her mom had finally made good on those threats to have her committed again.

The door slid open with a soft hiss like a snake.

Scarlett’s hand shot out, wrapping around the IV stand beside the bed before she even registered moving. Not the best weapon, but if someone was coming to strap her down or stick more needles in her, they’d at least walk away with a fuckin’ dent in their skull.

A man stepped in, tall and broad-shouldered, moving with the easy confidence of someone who owned not just the room, but probably the whole fuckin’ building. Long dreads pulled back in a loose ponytail, blue basketball jersey over jeans that probably cost more than her mom made in a month. Blue sunglasses hid his eyes, and silver gleamed from every-goddamn-where—rings on each finger, bracelets stacked up his wrists, chains hanging from his neck, even threaded through his dreads catching light with each small movement. 

The same guy from last night.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Her hand tightened on the IV stand, grip making her knuckles whiten from Irish-white to snow.

Even with nerves crawling up her back, Scar didn’t bother to pull it free. She could remember last night, a little bit at least.

The important bits, definitely.

So, she knew the way she knew someone had stolen her panties that this wasn’t some orderly coming to dose her up. This was… well, she didn’t fuckin’ know but she was gonna find out.

“Looks like our resident sleepin’ beauty’s all up and about,” he said, voice smooth, low and un-fucking-bothered as he raised one of his arms. The silver jewelry was silent even as they moved, a dozen pieces against each other, as his hand brushed back a single loc. “How we doin’, Red?” The guy spoke like he knew her, like they were old friends catching up after a lazy weekend instead of… whatever the fuck this was.

“Wh-who are you?” Scarlett hated the crack in her voice, the way fear snuck past her guard and made her sound like some scared little kid. She straightened her spine, and stuck her chin up and out, like she was in charge. “And where the fuck am I?”

He smiled, tilting his head slightly and Scar fought the nerves in her stomach as his smile brightened a little as he fully focused on her. “That’s a question. Who is anyone, really?” He paused, that smile widening just the slightest bit and pissing her off a dozen times more as she sat up.

“Oh wow, so fuckin’ deep and profound.”

The smile grew into a grin and the nerves nearly made her jump as she saw perfect white teeth shine like his ice. “My friends call me Jesse. Jess, if they’re being dickheads. J-Money, if they’re being cute.”

“Okay, Jess, where the fuck am I?” She shifted her weight, trying to look less vulnerable while sitting on the edge of a hospital bed with her ass hanging out. “The hell happened last night? In that alley? Those f-” Scar paused to catch her breath, remembering just how big and inhuman those demon-things were, “…those things… they were real? Why am I here?”

Jesse leaned against the doorframe, hands sliding into his pockets like this was the most casual conversation in the world. “Lots of questions. Fair enough, not really surprised, however….” He paused, watching her with a slight smirk as her scowl deepened at the however. “I could tell you, suuuuure, but it might be easier to show you. How about a tour once you’re dressed?”

Scarlett’s green eyes sharpened to something harder as she narrowed them, the un-answer fucking with her temper and fighting any nerves in her stomach or otherwise for a good few seconds. The fuck?

She didn’t trust this guy’s casual vibe for a second, the way he spoke like he was doing her a favor by kidnapping her and bringing her to… wherever the hell this was. But what choice did she have? Sitting here in a paper dress wasn’t gonna get her any answers, and the need to know—really know—if she’d finally lost it or if the monsters were actually real… that burned hotter than the suspicion.

“Fine,” she muttered, letting go of her death grip on the IV stand to fold both arms over her chest . “Got any real clothes, or am I walking around with a fucking creep who likes to look at minors with their whole ass and a half out?”

‘And a half’, Scar watched him mouth the words slowly, the grin never fading in the slightest for even a second, but after nearly five, he blinked and let out a little laugh. “Got you covered.”

Bet you do, she thought, her eyes tracking him as his hand gestured real lazy-like towards a set of cabinets across from her. Bet you’ve got everything fucking covered.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

It didn’t take long for her to change into the clothes she found in the cabinets.

Sure, the redhead had spent the whole time spitting angry curses and biting back groans as her muscles bitched at her.  Fuck me… fuuuuck… Yeah, she couldn’t move too fast or do anything too rough, but she still managed it in less than a couple minutes at least.

“Fuckin’ finally.” When she stepped toward the door and it slid open, the iced-out black guy was waiting exactly as promised, scrolling through a phone that probably cost more than her parents put down for rent every month. He glanced up, pocketing the thing.

“This way,” he said, leading her down a hallway.

Said hallway curved gently to the left, every surface maintaining that same clinical white as the recovery room. Scarlett tugged at the gray sweatpants and blue t-shirt they’d given her, both bearing that same skull-and-chain logo. The fabric felt expensive, soft against her skin, and the shoes fit perfectly.

Too perfectly. Like someone had her exact measurements.

She tried not to think about that.

Jesse walked a few paces ahead, seemingly unconcerned whether she was following or not. Her steps were still a little unsteady, exhaustion or hangover or both making her head swim. But with each step, her awareness sharpened, eyes scanning for exits, escape routes, anything she could use if shit went sideways.

“So you gonna tell me what this place is, or am I gonna have to go stranger danger and scream?” She finally broke the silence, the words coming out just as hard as she wanted them to. 

Jesse glanced back, sunglasses still firmly in place despite the indoor lighting. “Patience, little Scar. We’re almost there.”

“Don’t call me th—” The words died in her throat as they emerged into a massive circular space, ceiling arching high overhead as different floors stared down at her. Massive columns stretched upward, etched with metallic bands that caught the light, while in the center was a giant sculpture of a steel skull with massive chains going in and out of its mouth, and looping through its eyes as it wrapped around the thing. J

esus fuck… A floor-to-ceiling window dominated one wall, revealing the unmistakable Manhattan skyline—but something was off, Scar realized, as a faint blue shimmer distorted the view, like heat waves or a thin, translucent curtain.

“The whole place is so empty,” she muttered, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Jesse nodded, stopping beside her. “Right? That’s mostly on me. I give them an extra-long winter break. Some of them don’t really take up my offer though.”

Scarlett blinked. “Break from what?”

“Where do you think, lil Red?” My school.” Jesse half-spun, his arms wide and out as he gestured to the space around the both of them. “You’re looking at the main building of Grimmwald Secondary Academy for the Gifted. Or as my precious little students call it, Grimm High.”

“…Grimm…wald?” Scarlett’s eyes widened as the name clicked and she really took a look at the guy in front of her now. Holy shit. 

Grimmwald. As in Jesse fucking Grimmwald. Owner of Blue Note Records, the label behind half the artists in her Spotify playlists. The guy who’d made Mia2 and Ton-E household names and handled half a dozen other artists blowing up the charts. The billionaire who showed up at the Grammys dripping in jewelry, arm around a different celebrity every time. The one whose charity work renovated schools and rec centers in the shittiest neighborhoods across the city.

The guy had his fingers in fuckin’ everything—music, tech, real estate, charity shit. His face was all over Instagram, always with those signature chains and rings.

And he was standing right in front of her, looking amused at her reaction.

“So… you’ve heard of me.” It wasn’t a question, and his grin didn’t ease up in the slightest.

“I mean… maybe, I guess.” Scarlett shrugged, trying really hard to force her face back to neutral. “Might have heard somethin’… I dunno.”

Grimmwald let out a laugh, the sound echoing off the high ceiling in the empty lobby. “Whatever, little Scar.” Yeah, he didn’t buy it. “You should know something though.”

“What?” Scarlett crossed her arms, bracing for whatever bullshit was coming next.

“The world is bigger and darker than you know.” Jesse gestured for her to follow as he began walking again. “What you saw last night? That’s just the tip of a very fucked-up iceberg.”

Scarlett snorted, arms crossing over her chest. “Yeah? No shit. I’ve been seeing monsters since I was like, six. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“How about what they actually are?” Jesse started walking again, gesturing for her to follow. “Some people can see what others can’t—always been that way. I belong to a group of people who are like you. They’re known as HUNTERS—has a nice ring to it.” His hand swept outward as they passed another window. “Everyone’s got different abilities, different strengths.”

Scarlett trailed after him, keeping a few steps back. “Hunters? Like… monster hunters? That’s what you’re calling yourselves?”

“Well… sure, something like that,” he continued, looking at her with eyes she could only describe as patronizing as he kept on talking past every shot she took. “Anyway, structure matters when you’re fighting… monsters. This school is part of a larger community for the gifted, a place to learn about the world no one else will show you.”

“Gifted. Riiiiight.” Her eyes rolled hard as she stretched out the single syllable. “So where’s your fucking wheelchair, X-Man?”

“Professor X wasn’t X-Man, actually,” she heard the man in front of her say, voice a bit lower than usual. “That was a different character entirely. If you want, I can give you some X-Men comics to be more accurate with your insults.”

“I don’t fucking care,” she bit out, fighting the heat in her stomach as she kept from saying something worse.

“I know you don’t,” he answered her, grin fading back to nothing but it did nothing at all to hide the laughter in his eyes. “That was just to annoy you as much as you’re trying and failing to annoy me.”

His words hit her like a slap to the face and Scarlett screwed up her nose for a few seconds, silent and fuming before she let out a single quiet, “…dick.”

“I do my best.” His lips twitched. “Anyway, Academy’s where we train the kids. I say kids, but teenagers mostly. Normal school stuff plus how to punch monsters in the face. Been running for about five years now, getting bigger every year.”

As they kept on walking through the building—the place mostly empty, occasional signs of life visible through doorways, the billionaire in front of her kept on talking, throwing out a whole explanation about something called Negative Energy—”psycho-emotional emanations released by humans and generated through the most powerful negative emotions; rage, fear, hate, grief, and lust”. And then he started talking about something else, something that made her stand up straight…

“The Japanese apparently call them Curses, but I don’t care… My school, my rules. They’re known as SPECTERs.” Jesse waved one jewelry-covered arm lazily. “Spectral Projection Entity Created Through Emotional Resonance.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Well, the kids like it. Very KND feel. But yeah, SPECTERS are ghosts made of bad mojo,” he continued, nodding slowly. “They feed on fear, pain, suffering… horniness.. and they’re everywhere, especially on college campuses.”

As terrible a name as that was, Scar couldn’t deny that his explanation… it fit. “So I wasn’t crazy,” she said softly, words hitting her square in the chest. “All those things I’ve been seeing since I was a kid—”

“Were one hundred percent real,” Jesse finished as his pace slowed, and though she couldn’t see his eyes behind those blue shades, something in his posture softened. “No. You weren’t crazy either. You were gifted. You’ve always seen them, right? The monsters?”

She nodded, throat suddenly tight.

“Last night, your N.E. woke up—no going back now.”

She narrowed her eyes, pushing aside the memory of the rush of energy and power rushing through her veins, as suspicion flooded her. Nobody said shit like that without wanting something. The years of psychiatrists and medications and her mom’s exhausted disappointment had taught her that much.

“So what, I’m supposed to be grateful you dragged me to your monster school?” She planted her feet, refusing to follow as he started down the right-hand corridor. “What do you want from me?”

Jesse turned, the light catching on the silver rings in his dreads. “Right now? Just for you to meet someone.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The Student Living wing felt less clinical than the Medical wing and the main lobby area.

For one, there were actual signs of life in this place—posters on the walls, a bulletin board covered in notices, and even the sound of muffled hip-hop coming from behind one of the numbered doors. A half-wall with a huge glass window came up to her right and Scar’s green eyes widened slightly at the sight of a common area with couches and an outright flatscreen TV setup.

Almost like a normal boarding school, if you ignored the blue glow emanating from various panels and the fact that they were apparently training to fight monsters literally out of her nightmares.

A door swung open as they passed, and a heavyset kid emerged, his broad frame filling the doorway. 

A chubby black kid boy with a blond burst fade mohawk stepped out, his eyes—holy shit, are those actually red?—widening when he spotted them.

“Hey, boss!” The kid’s face lit up at the sight of Jesse, a grin so bright it hurt to look at on his face, before his red eyes twitched and shifted to Scarlett. “Oh, hey, red, how you feeling?”

Scarlett’s brain clicked again. The kid from last night—the one who’d been fighting the first monster, moving too fast, hands glowing red like his eyes. He’d carried her after she’d passed out.

“Uh… fine, I guess,” Scarlett managed, unsure whether to thank him or tell him to back off. That grin hadn’t faded in the slightest, and as warm as it looked, something about it just felt… off.

She didn’t know what but still… I’m not racist, she assured herself, though.

“Man, you were awesome last night!” The other kid bounced on his toes, downright vibrating as he grinned at her with those oddly sharp canines showing. For some reason, he felt like a pitbull, a happy one almost, but still a pitbull. “Never seen anyone hit like that on their first go!”

Jesse leaned against the wall, clearly amused by the interaction as the black kid threw all his energy her way, Scarlett inching back as he advanced on her. “I’m Darius, by the way. Darius Jason Rock. Most people call me DJ.” He extended his hand out which Scarlett reluctantly shook. “I’ve been here since I was like, eleven, I think. One of the first students, Boss G picked me himself.” His grin widened as he glanced over at the smiling “Boss G” himself before looking back at Scarlett. “You’re gonna love it here. Hunter High’s way better than regular school. Jesse says you’re joining my team, so fuckin’ awesome!”

Scar jerked back, dropping his hand like it was a snake. “Team?” She rounded on Grimmwald with a glare. “What team?”

“Students normally work in teams of three for training and missions,” Jesse explained, pushing off from the wall. “Darius’s team currently has only two members—him and Lex. You would complete their unit as the third.”

“We’ve been waiting for a third forever! Boss has been so damn picky on who he picks to mentor, you wouldn’t believe it for real,” Darius—DJ—bounced on his heels, excitement barely contained as he acted like he was five years younger than he was. “Lex is gonna be so pissed he missed meeting you. We’re gonna be the best team in the school, just watch!”

Scarlett took a half-step back, her spine stiffening. “Hold up. I didn’t agree to join any team. I didn’t agree to stay here. I just woke up in your weird hospital, and now you’re acting like I’m all geared up to be a tiny super soldier in your little Monster High freakshow?”

DJ’s grin didn’t falter but his eyes did flare, red intensifying for a half-second as he suddenly seemed to lose all that energy that made him seem younger and smaller than her. Scarlett couldn’t help her flinch all of a sudden, an odd feeling making her muscles tense up. Grimmwald stepped forward and placed a hand on DJ’s shoulder, taking his place in front of Scarlett. 

“If you’d like,” Jesse replied as smooth as ever, “we can talk about your options.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The meeting room they led her to was small but comfortable, with three plush chairs arranged around a sleek table and a wall of windows offering another distorted view of Manhattan. One large monitor took up an entire wall, the thing showing off the chained-up skull that had to be the logo of the school.

The only adult among them sat down as soon as he crossed the threshold first, Grimmwald lounging in the central chair like it was a throne. “Take a seat,” he said, one hand gesturing to the chair across from him.

“No.” Scarlett remained standing, both arms crossed tight and tucked over each other on top of her chest. “I want to know what’s going on. All of it. No more tour guide bullshit.”

“…Fair enough.” Jesse leaned forward, one eyebrow raised above his sunglasses. “Here’s the deal, Scar. You’ve got two options: Join the Academy as a student, or try to go back to your old life.” 

It was here the man paused… for a moment, at least. “Though you’re really not gonna be a fan of the second option, being real.”

“And why not?” Scarlett’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, you’re not gonna stop seeing these things, definitely not now that you have the power to hurt them. If anything, the fact your energy’s awake and uncontrolled now means that these things are gonna come for you. Bigger ones, stronger ones, just like the one you saw the other night… maybe worse,” Jesse said, each word measured and calm even as they slammed into her face like a pissed off bouncer’s fists. “Your power will hurt someone if you don’t learn to control it, lil Red. Simple as and Negative Energy is simply that… negative.”

His glasses seemed to gleam as he raised one hand to them, and with just a simple slide, Scar felt a shudder run through her entire body as she found herself looking at a pair of glowing bronze eyes staring deep into her soul. “You think the drugs and alcohol help? We both know you don’t even think that.” His head tilted slightly as he spoke the last few words. “You’ve been looking for somewhere to belong your whole life. This is it.”

Her eyes stung, something itching them as her hands tightened to fists at her sides. “Y-you don’t know shit about me.”

“I know enough.” Jesse’s voice softened a little bit more as he stared into her soul . “I know the hospitals couldn’t help. I know your mom’s at the end of her rope. I know the schools have written you off as a problem child, and I know you spend most nights trying to drink yourself blind just to make the monsters go away.” He spread his hands out wide. “How am I doing so far?”

Her jaw clenched, teeth gritted together so damn tight it hurt. Sure, she wanted to scream, to throw something, to storm out and never look back. But what was the only other option?

Back to being alone with the monsters?

“Not like I got anywhere better to be…” The shrug she gave was so forced she knew it was damn obvious but she didn’t give a fuck right now. With nothing else to do, Scar just stared out the window through narrowed eyes, skyline somehow looking distorted and blue through the window for some odd reason.

DJ broke into a wide grin as Jesse just nodded, sliding up his glasses again. Of course. Like he didn’t expect this.

“Good choice, Scarlett. Welcome to Grimmwald Secondardy Academy for the Talented and Gifted.” The billionaire rose from his seat, all business as he brushed some imaginary dirt off his shirt. “Darius will show you the ropes. We’ll contact your parents and have them reach you. Trust me, they won’t say no to this either.”

Scar didn’t doubt that, but wasn’t sure exactly why she was so sure either. Mom and Dad did always want me off their hands. Yeah, they had two more kids to focus on now, anyway.

Jesse nodded again and moved toward the door, the man pausing his steps just to add, “Try not to break anything on your first day.”

And just like that, he was gone and she was left with DJ, the human equivalent of a pitbull-retriever mix.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ love this place.” He jumped in her face, practically vibrating.  “Come on, let’s get you to process. You need your uniform.”

Uniform? 

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

An hour later, Scarlett found herself in what she assumed was an administrative office, filling out forms while a staff member explained the basic rules and schedule of the Academy. They’d also done some kind of medical scan, which apparently assessed her “Negative Energy levels.”

The staff member in charge of the whole thing was a woman in her thirties with steel-gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her tits were fuck-huge, though, Scar couldn’t deny that, and the modest businesslady outfit wasn’t doing her any favors body-wise. She ran Scarlett through a bunch of different boring forms and a brief scan with some random remote-looking thing with an antenna that supposedly assessed her “Negative Energy levels.”

“Students are classified by ability level and control,” the staff member was explaining, a middle-aged woman with a clipboard and an expression that suggested she’d seen it all before and wanted a longer lunch break. “The class system is from E, lowest, to S, highest. Based on our pre-assessment, you’ll be classified as D Class, lowest class suitable for combat,” the woman explained, handing Scarlett a folder of papers.

“The hell does that mean?” Scarlett bit down on her tongue before she could spit anything worse than that.

“D Class is just where everyone who’s actually at least combat capable starts—no big deal,” Darius jumped in before the administrator could respond, standing up from where he was leaning up against the wall.. “I’m at B now, started at D just like you. Lex is almost a B Tier too. He’s a C right now, but he should hit B Minus any day now—our team’s gonna be stacked once you level up!”

Level up? The redhead pulled a face. What is this, a fucking video game?

“Students are classified by ability level and control,” the administrator continued, seemingly unfazed by Scarlett’s glare. “You’ll be reassessed after your training period.”

“Whatever,” Scarlett muttered as she tried not to roll her eyes, pissed off at a bunch of arbitrary ranking bullshit they were throwing at her, a ranking she was damn near the bottom of for some fucking reason. I punched a monster’s fuckin’ head off, honestly.

“Standard Grimmwald Academy uniform,” the woman added, sliding a neatly folded stack of clothes across the desk. “You wear it during school hours and whenever you are representing the school in any capacity, official or otherwise. You will get several different sets for both Fall and Spring.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure exactly what a grimace was but she knew the look on her face had to be close to it as she unfolded the items: a royal blue blazer with black lapels, white button-up shirt, matching blue tie, and a pleated blue skirt. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Black buttons indicate D Tier status,” the woman continued in her slow drawl, ignoring Scarlett’s displeasure. “Pants option is available if you prefer.”

“I’m good.” She had nice fucking legs, she wasn’t gonna hide them.

“Buttons show your Class by the way; black is D, bronze is C, silver is B, gold is A,” Darius explained, pointing to the silver buttons on his own blue blazer. “Collar for our years, too. We’re both third years, so white.”

“Third year? I just got here.” Scarlett frowned, holding up the blazer with two fingers like it might grow teeth and chomp on her.

“Academic year, means you’re in the junior equivalent,” the staff member clarified. “Based on your testing and age, you’re placed in third year courses and you will be assigned a student tutor to catch up on any courses.”

Scarlett examined the uniform with that grimace still in place. Uniforms meant rules, and rules meant someone telling her what to do. Still, the material wasn’t cheap crap—it actually felt decent quality. And she could already think of ways to modify it, make it less cookie-cutter.

Still… a uniform.

Like she was some private school brat… fuck, I am one.

DJ watched her with an eager smile, like a puppy waiting for her to acknowledge a gift he’d brought her. “Welcome to D-Class, rookie.”

Scarlett frowned, brow furrowed. “Don’t.”

“D-Class, you know, because you’re D Tier,” Darius explained, seemingly oblivious to her bad mood “Each Tier has classes, lectures, and training specific to their level. That’s where you’ll start.”

Scarlett looked down at the uniform again, at the black buttons that branded her as bottom-tier. Something hot and angry twisted in her gut—that familiar burn she got whenever someone tried to put her in a box. D Tier. Lowest of the low.

Fuck that.

“How do I move up?” The question came out hard, sharper than she intended but just as much as she meant it. “Fast.”

Darius’s grin only widened, those sharp canines almost seeming like a threat as he fixed those blood-red eyes right on her as if just now seeing her for the first time. “Train hard. Master your NE. Prove yourself in field exercises.”

Scarlett made a fist. “Hm.”

Those red eyes tracked down to her fist until she finally unclenched, before returning back to her face, that perfect Stepford grin still in place. “What’s the rush? You planning a speed run or something?”

“Maybe.” Scarlett folded the uniform back up, mind already racing. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was fight her way up from the bottom. “So, when do we start?”

“First thing tomorrow morning. For now, let me show you where you’ll be staying.” Darius nodded as he led her back into the hallway. “Girls’ dorms are on the east section of this wing. Boys are west. Common areas in the middle.”

“So this place, yeah?” she asked. “A superhero training school? Just like that? We the X-Men?”

Darius blinked and stuttered in his walk for a second before letting out a loud laugh. “Kind of, yeah. We’re learning to be Hunters—that’s H-U-N-T-E-R, Humanity’s Ultimate Negative Threat Elimination Regiment,” the fat kid said, rattling off the acronym like it was absolutely normal. “We find SPECTERs, we take them down, we keep normal people safe.”

“Normal people,” Scarlett repeated, the words bitter on her tongue. She’d spent her whole life trying to convince people she was normal. Now I’m officially certifiably not.

“Yeah, you know, NONEs—people who can’t see what we see.” Darius rolled his shoulders more than he did shrug. “Most folks go their whole lives never knowing SPECTERs exist. Lucky them, right?”

Darius stopped as he came to a door with the number 217 on it, Scarlett stopping beside him and looking at it, already trying to memorize the number. “This is you,” Darius said, handing her a key card. “Each room is private, so no roommates, for third years and up at least. Cafeteria’s on the ground floor, open pretty much twenty-four hours but you only get three free meals a day. Don’t worry, you can earn Grim Points to spend on stuff. Classes start at 9:30 tomorrow—I’ll come grab you at nine so you don’t get lost.”

Scarlett took the key card, turning it over in her hands. “And… the other… teammate?”

“Alexander Martin Winthrop the Fourth aka my guy Lexy,” Darius said, rolling his eyes even as he grinned. “He’s from a big family on the Upper East Side, or something. A lil’ weird, kinda, and he’s weird… till you get to know him, but a cool guy. He’s working with some seniors on a project today, but you’ll meet him tomorrow.”

Great… just great. She fought the urge to shoot DJ a harsh look. Rich boy with an attitude. Just what I need.

“Thanks,” Scarlett said, the word feeling strange in her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d genuinely thanked someone. “For, you know… last night. And showing me around or whatever.”

Darius’s grin didn’t soften, but the red in his eyes seemed to darken a little, his intensity fading just a little somehow. “No problem. That’s what teammates do.” He started backing down the hallway. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna be wild.”

As DJ disappeared around the corner, Scarlett let out a long sight. Might as well. Without wasting another moment, the redhead swiped the key card and stepped into her new room, green eyes scanning the place before she took a second step forward. Not bad.

It really wasn’t.

Sure, it was simple and definitely fancy in that modern way, but it was also not cramped at all; a bed, desk with a laptop on it, dresser, window with a decent view of the city. Someone had even already brought her backpack from last night, the beaten-up black bag sitting on the bed.

A familiar friend in strange lands.

The redhead flopped hard onto the mattress, the weight of everything crashing down as quickly as she had on the soft-as-hell but perfectly firm surface of her brand-new-bed. “Jesus fuck… is everything in this place so top-fuckin-tier?”

A day back, she’d been getting drunk with fake fuckin’ friends who didn’t give a shit about her, and called her a slut behind her back. Now she was enrolled in some secret academy for superkids ready to fight the monsters she’d been screaming about ever since she was 9 years old.

Scarlett laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, as she let a grin cross her face. 

D Tier? Please. They had no idea what she was capable of.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –


“Motherfuck-”

Consciousness hit like a sucker punch and Scarlett’s head felt like someone had slammed an icepick into the back of her head in some shitty warehouse club bathroom, drilling straight through her skull and down into her fucking teeth.

White light stabbed through her eyelids—motherfuck me—making everything worse, her mouth feeling no different than cardboard left in the sun; dry, stale and fucking nasty. She tried to lift her hand to block it out, but her arm might as well have been fuckin’ lead.

Her eyelids felt glued shut, heavy as hell, but she forced them open anyway. Just another hangover. Nothing she hadn’t powered through before.

Except… this wasn’t her bed.

Wh… She blinked again and blinked around, head aching even as she forced it on a swivel to try to take in where she was. Where… where the actual fuckin’ hell?

White. Pure white.

Annoyingly white, even.

And she was pale enough she could say that, but yeah, evverything around her was fucking hospital white.

Walls whiter than an Irish nursing home closed in around her, clean bright and sterile enough to drink a can of spilled soda off of. She tried to sit up, muscles protesting like they’d been wrung out and hung to dry, only to blink to her right at a sound. A monitor to her right beeped softly, some fancy medical shit with a rotating logo that looked like a smiling white skull wrapped in chains.

The fuck kind of hospital…

Memory flashed behind her eyes — an alley, shadows moving wrong. The things with too many limbs and eyes where eyes shouldn’t be. The blond fat kid with hands that glowed blue like something out of those animes Sammy was always watching. The guy with dreads, smiling like death while monsters died around him.

And her fist — her own fucking fist — turning something’s head into purple mist.

Her breath caught halfway between her throat and her fucking lungs. All her life, she’d seen those things… crawling on walls, hanging around hospitals, clinging to people. All those glimpses in dark corners, shapes that didn’t make sense, all the weird things that nobody else could see. 

Things the doctors had told her weren’t real. 

Things she’d tried to drown in cheap vodka and whatever pills she could score on top of her antipsychotics.

But last night, she’d hit one. And it had been real. Solid. Gone.

I’m not crazy.

She wasn’t crazy. She was—

Still royally fucked, just in a different way.

Her racing thoughts slammed to a halt as she realized something else that should’ve been obvious from the start.

I’m not dead.

Which was… weird as shit, considering she’d been pretty damn sure she was about to die in that collapsing building. The fact that she wasn’t splattered across some abandoned lot was probably a good thing, but it left a whole mess of questions that Scarlett wasn’t sure she wanted answers to.

I’m not crazy.

She wasn’t crazy. She was—

Still royally fucked, just in a different way.

The monitor beeped faster, matching her heart trying to punch its way through her ribs. Scarlett forced herself to breathe, gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal. Electronic door—definitely locked. No windows. Just a curtain half-drawn like a shitty attempt at privacy in a room that screamed “you’re not going anywhere.” Her clothes were gone too, replaced with a light blue hospital gown that did a good job of covering her ass but left her well aware that someone had handled her naked body while she slept.

Fuckin’ pervs, her face turned down in a hard angry scowl. Just fuckin’ great. Woke up in some weird-ass fucking freezing medical room with no fucking bra. The less said about the lack of panties, the better. Story of my goddamn life.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the sharp sting of nausea that made her stomach rush up into her throat. I better not throw up…

The floor was cold against her bare feet, the kind of sterile cold that reminded her of the psych ward they’d stuck her in back when she was twelve, when her mom had finally given up trying to “fix her” at home and dear ol’ dad had gone along with it, tired of the screams at night..

Is that where I am? Another fuckin’ nuthouse? Maybe the monsters had finally made her crack for real, and her mom had finally made good on those threats to have her committed again.

The door slid open with a soft hiss like a snake.

Scarlett’s hand shot out, wrapping around the IV stand beside the bed before she even registered moving. Not the best weapon, but if someone was coming to strap her down or stick more needles in her, they’d at least walk away with a fuckin’ dent in their skull.

A man stepped in, tall and broad-shouldered, moving with the easy confidence of someone who owned not just the room, but probably the whole fuckin’ building. Long dreads pulled back in a loose ponytail, blue basketball jersey over jeans that probably cost more than her mom made in a month. Blue sunglasses hid his eyes, and silver gleamed from every-goddamn-where—rings on each finger, bracelets stacked up his wrists, chains hanging from his neck, even threaded through his dreads catching light with each small movement. 

The same guy from last night.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Her hand tightened on the IV stand, grip making her knuckles whiten from Irish-white to snow.

Even with nerves crawling up her back, Scar didn’t bother to pull it free. She could remember last night, a little bit at least.

The important bits, definitely.

So, she knew the way she knew someone had stolen her panties that this wasn’t some orderly coming to dose her up. This was… well, she didn’t fuckin’ know but she was gonna find out.

“Looks like our resident sleepin’ beauty’s all up and about,” he said, voice smooth, low and un-fucking-bothered as he raised one of his arms. The silver jewelry was silent even as they moved, a dozen pieces against each other, as his hand brushed back a single loc. “How we doin’, Red?” The guy spoke like he knew her, like they were old friends catching up after a lazy weekend instead of… whatever the fuck this was.

“Wh-who are you?” Scarlett hated the crack in her voice, the way fear snuck past her guard and made her sound like some scared little kid. She straightened her spine, and stuck her chin up and out, like she was in charge. “And where the fuck am I?”

He smiled, tilting his head slightly and Scar fought the nerves in her stomach as his smile brightened a little as he fully focused on her. “That’s a question. Who is anyone, really?” He paused, that smile widening just the slightest bit and pissing her off a dozen times more as she sat up.

“Oh wow, so fuckin’ deep and profound.”

The smile grew into a grin and the nerves nearly made her jump as she saw perfect white teeth shine like his ice. “My friends call me Jesse. Jess, if they’re being dickheads. J-Money, if they’re being cute.”

“Okay, Jess, where the fuck am I?” She shifted her weight, trying to look less vulnerable while sitting on the edge of a hospital bed with her ass hanging out. “The hell happened last night? In that alley? Those f-” Scar paused to catch her breath, remembering just how big and inhuman those demon-things were, “…those things… they were real? Why am I here?”

Jesse leaned against the doorframe, hands sliding into his pockets like this was the most casual conversation in the world. “Lots of questions. Fair enough, not really surprised, however….” He paused, watching her with a slight smirk as her scowl deepened at the however. “I could tell you, suuuuure, but it might be easier to show you. How about a tour once you’re dressed?”

Scarlett’s green eyes sharpened to something harder as she narrowed them, the un-answer fucking with her temper and fighting any nerves in her stomach or otherwise for a good few seconds. The fuck?

She didn’t trust this guy’s casual vibe for a second, the way he spoke like he was doing her a favor by kidnapping her and bringing her to… wherever the hell this was. But what choice did she have? Sitting here in a paper dress wasn’t gonna get her any answers, and the need to know—really know—if she’d finally lost it or if the monsters were actually real… that burned hotter than the suspicion.

“Fine,” she muttered, letting go of her death grip on the IV stand to fold both arms over her chest . “Got any real clothes, or am I walking around with a fucking creep who likes to look at minors with their whole ass and a half out?”

‘And a half’, Scar watched him mouth the words slowly, the grin never fading in the slightest for even a second, but after nearly five, he blinked and let out a little laugh. “Got you covered.”

Bet you do, she thought, her eyes tracking him as his hand gestured real lazy-like towards a set of cabinets across from her. Bet you’ve got everything fucking covered.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

It didn’t take long for her to change into the clothes she found in the cabinets.

Sure, the redhead had spent the whole time spitting angry curses and biting back groans as her muscles bitched at her.  Fuck me… fuuuuck… Yeah, she couldn’t move too fast or do anything too rough, but she still managed it in less than a couple minutes at least.

“Fuckin’ finally.” When she stepped toward the door and it slid open, the iced-out black guy was waiting exactly as promised, scrolling through a phone that probably cost more than her parents put down for rent every month. He glanced up, pocketing the thing.

“This way,” he said, leading her down a hallway.

Said hallway curved gently to the left, every surface maintaining that same clinical white as the recovery room. Scarlett tugged at the gray sweatpants and blue t-shirt they’d given her, both bearing that same skull-and-chain logo. The fabric felt expensive, soft against her skin, and the shoes fit perfectly.

Too perfectly. Like someone had her exact measurements.

She tried not to think about that.

Jesse walked a few paces ahead, seemingly unconcerned whether she was following or not. Her steps were still a little unsteady, exhaustion or hangover or both making her head swim. But with each step, her awareness sharpened, eyes scanning for exits, escape routes, anything she could use if shit went sideways.

“So you gonna tell me what this place is, or am I gonna have to go stranger danger and scream?” She finally broke the silence, the words coming out just as hard as she wanted them to. 

Jesse glanced back, sunglasses still firmly in place despite the indoor lighting. “Patience, little Scar. We’re almost there.”

“Don’t call me th—” The words died in her throat as they emerged into a massive circular space, ceiling arching high overhead as different floors stared down at her. Massive columns stretched upward, etched with metallic bands that caught the light, while in the center was a giant sculpture of a steel skull with massive chains going in and out of its mouth, and looping through its eyes as it wrapped around the thing. J

esus fuck… A floor-to-ceiling window dominated one wall, revealing the unmistakable Manhattan skyline—but something was off, Scar realized, as a faint blue shimmer distorted the view, like heat waves or a thin, translucent curtain.

“The whole place is so empty,” she muttered, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Jesse nodded, stopping beside her. “Right? That’s mostly on me. I give them an extra-long winter break. Some of them don’t really take up my offer though.”

Scarlett blinked. “Break from what?”

“Where do you think, lil Red?” My school.” Jesse half-spun, his arms wide and out as he gestured to the space around the both of them. “You’re looking at the main building of Grimmwald Secondary Academy for the Gifted. Or as my precious little students call it, Grimm High.”

“…Grimm…wald?” Scarlett’s eyes widened as the name clicked and she really took a look at the guy in front of her now. Holy shit. 

Grimmwald. As in Jesse fucking Grimmwald. Owner of Blue Note Records, the label behind half the artists in her Spotify playlists. The guy who’d made Mia2 and Ton-E household names and handled half a dozen other artists blowing up the charts. The billionaire who showed up at the Grammys dripping in jewelry, arm around a different celebrity every time. The one whose charity work renovated schools and rec centers in the shittiest neighborhoods across the city.

The guy had his fingers in fuckin’ everything—music, tech, real estate, charity shit. His face was all over Instagram, always with those signature chains and rings.

And he was standing right in front of her, looking amused at her reaction.

“So… you’ve heard of me.” It wasn’t a question, and his grin didn’t ease up in the slightest.

“I mean… maybe, I guess.” Scarlett shrugged, trying really hard to force her face back to neutral. “Might have heard somethin’… I dunno.”

Grimmwald let out a laugh, the sound echoing off the high ceiling in the empty lobby. “Whatever, little Scar.” Yeah, he didn’t buy it. “You should know something though.”

“What?” Scarlett crossed her arms, bracing for whatever bullshit was coming next.

“The world is bigger and darker than you know.” Jesse gestured for her to follow as he began walking again. “What you saw last night? That’s just the tip of a very fucked-up iceberg.”

Scarlett snorted, arms crossing over her chest. “Yeah? No shit. I’ve been seeing monsters since I was like, six. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“How about what they actually are?” Jesse started walking again, gesturing for her to follow. “Some people can see what others can’t—always been that way. I belong to a group of people who are like you. They’re known as HUNTERS—has a nice ring to it.” His hand swept outward as they passed another window. “Everyone’s got different abilities, different strengths.”

Scarlett trailed after him, keeping a few steps back. “Hunters? Like… monster hunters? That’s what you’re calling yourselves?”

“Well… sure, something like that,” he continued, looking at her with eyes she could only describe as patronizing as he kept on talking past every shot she took. “Anyway, structure matters when you’re fighting… monsters. This school is part of a larger community for the gifted, a place to learn about the world no one else will show you.”

“Gifted. Riiiiight.” Her eyes rolled hard as she stretched out the single syllable. “So where’s your fucking wheelchair, X-Man?”

“Professor X wasn’t X-Man, actually,” she heard the man in front of her say, voice a bit lower than usual. “That was a different character entirely. If you want, I can give you some X-Men comics to be more accurate with your insults.”

“I don’t fucking care,” she bit out, fighting the heat in her stomach as she kept from saying something worse.

“I know you don’t,” he answered her, grin fading back to nothing but it did nothing at all to hide the laughter in his eyes. “That was just to annoy you as much as you’re trying and failing to annoy me.”

His words hit her like a slap to the face and Scarlett screwed up her nose for a few seconds, silent and fuming before she let out a single quiet, “…dick.”

“I do my best.” His lips twitched. “Anyway, Academy’s where we train the kids. I say kids, but teenagers mostly. Normal school stuff plus how to punch monsters in the face. Been running for about five years now, getting bigger every year.”

As they kept on walking through the building—the place mostly empty, occasional signs of life visible through doorways, the billionaire in front of her kept on talking, throwing out a whole explanation about something called Negative Energy—”psycho-emotional emanations released by humans and generated through the most powerful negative emotions; rage, fear, hate, grief, and lust”. And then he started talking about something else, something that made her stand up straight…

“The Japanese apparently call them Curses, but I don’t care… My school, my rules. They’re known as SPECTERs.” Jesse waved one jewelry-covered arm lazily. “Spectral Projection Entity Created Through Emotional Resonance.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Well, the kids like it. Very KND feel. But yeah, SPECTERS are ghosts made of bad mojo,” he continued, nodding slowly. “They feed on fear, pain, suffering… horniness.. and they’re everywhere, especially on college campuses.”

As terrible a name as that was, Scar couldn’t deny that his explanation… it fit. “So I wasn’t crazy,” she said softly, words hitting her square in the chest. “All those things I’ve been seeing since I was a kid—”

“Were one hundred percent real,” Jesse finished as his pace slowed, and though she couldn’t see his eyes behind those blue shades, something in his posture softened. “No. You weren’t crazy either. You were gifted. You’ve always seen them, right? The monsters?”

She nodded, throat suddenly tight.

“Last night, your N.E. woke up—no going back now.”

She narrowed her eyes, pushing aside the memory of the rush of energy and power rushing through her veins, as suspicion flooded her. Nobody said shit like that without wanting something. The years of psychiatrists and medications and her mom’s exhausted disappointment had taught her that much.

“So what, I’m supposed to be grateful you dragged me to your monster school?” She planted her feet, refusing to follow as he started down the right-hand corridor. “What do you want from me?”

Jesse turned, the light catching on the silver rings in his dreads. “Right now? Just for you to meet someone.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The Student Living wing felt less clinical than the Medical wing and the main lobby area.

For one, there were actual signs of life in this place—posters on the walls, a bulletin board covered in notices, and even the sound of muffled hip-hop coming from behind one of the numbered doors. A half-wall with a huge glass window came up to her right and Scar’s green eyes widened slightly at the sight of a common area with couches and an outright flatscreen TV setup.

Almost like a normal boarding school, if you ignored the blue glow emanating from various panels and the fact that they were apparently training to fight monsters literally out of her nightmares.

A door swung open as they passed, and a heavyset kid emerged, his broad frame filling the doorway. 

A chubby black kid boy with a blond burst fade mohawk stepped out, his eyes—holy shit, are those actually red?—widening when he spotted them.

“Hey, boss!” The kid’s face lit up at the sight of Jesse, a grin so bright it hurt to look at on his face, before his red eyes twitched and shifted to Scarlett. “Oh, hey, red, how you feeling?”

Scarlett’s brain clicked again. The kid from last night—the one who’d been fighting the first monster, moving too fast, hands glowing red like his eyes. He’d carried her after she’d passed out.

“Uh… fine, I guess,” Scarlett managed, unsure whether to thank him or tell him to back off. That grin hadn’t faded in the slightest, and as warm as it looked, something about it just felt… off.

She didn’t know what but still… I’m not racist, she assured herself, though.

“Man, you were awesome last night!” The other kid bounced on his toes, downright vibrating as he grinned at her with those oddly sharp canines showing. For some reason, he felt like a pitbull, a happy one almost, but still a pitbull. “Never seen anyone hit like that on their first go!”

Jesse leaned against the wall, clearly amused by the interaction as the black kid threw all his energy her way, Scarlett inching back as he advanced on her. “I’m Darius, by the way. Darius Jason Rock. Most people call me DJ.” He extended his hand out which Scarlett reluctantly shook. “I’ve been here since I was like, eleven, I think. One of the first students, Boss G picked me himself.” His grin widened as he glanced over at the smiling “Boss G” himself before looking back at Scarlett. “You’re gonna love it here. Hunter High’s way better than regular school. Jesse says you’re joining my team, so fuckin’ awesome!”

Scar jerked back, dropping his hand like it was a snake. “Team?” She rounded on Grimmwald with a glare. “What team?”

“Students normally work in teams of three for training and missions,” Jesse explained, pushing off from the wall. “Darius’s team currently has only two members—him and Lex. You would complete their unit as the third.”

“We’ve been waiting for a third forever! Boss has been so damn picky on who he picks to mentor, you wouldn’t believe it for real,” Darius—DJ—bounced on his heels, excitement barely contained as he acted like he was five years younger than he was. “Lex is gonna be so pissed he missed meeting you. We’re gonna be the best team in the school, just watch!”

Scarlett took a half-step back, her spine stiffening. “Hold up. I didn’t agree to join any team. I didn’t agree to stay here. I just woke up in your weird hospital, and now you’re acting like I’m all geared up to be a tiny super soldier in your little Monster High freakshow?”

DJ’s grin didn’t falter but his eyes did flare, red intensifying for a half-second as he suddenly seemed to lose all that energy that made him seem younger and smaller than her. Scarlett couldn’t help her flinch all of a sudden, an odd feeling making her muscles tense up. Grimmwald stepped forward and placed a hand on DJ’s shoulder, taking his place in front of Scarlett. 

“If you’d like,” Jesse replied as smooth as ever, “we can talk about your options.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The meeting room they led her to was small but comfortable, with three plush chairs arranged around a sleek table and a wall of windows offering another distorted view of Manhattan. One large monitor took up an entire wall, the thing showing off the chained-up skull that had to be the logo of the school.

The only adult among them sat down as soon as he crossed the threshold first, Grimmwald lounging in the central chair like it was a throne. “Take a seat,” he said, one hand gesturing to the chair across from him.

“No.” Scarlett remained standing, both arms crossed tight and tucked over each other on top of her chest. “I want to know what’s going on. All of it. No more tour guide bullshit.”

“…Fair enough.” Jesse leaned forward, one eyebrow raised above his sunglasses. “Here’s the deal, Scar. You’ve got two options: Join the Academy as a student, or try to go back to your old life.” 

It was here the man paused… for a moment, at least. “Though you’re really not gonna be a fan of the second option, being real.”

“And why not?” Scarlett’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, you’re not gonna stop seeing these things, definitely not now that you have the power to hurt them. If anything, the fact your energy’s awake and uncontrolled now means that these things are gonna come for you. Bigger ones, stronger ones, just like the one you saw the other night… maybe worse,” Jesse said, each word measured and calm even as they slammed into her face like a pissed off bouncer’s fists. “Your power will hurt someone if you don’t learn to control it, lil Red. Simple as and Negative Energy is simply that… negative.”

His glasses seemed to gleam as he raised one hand to them, and with just a simple slide, Scar felt a shudder run through her entire body as she found herself looking at a pair of glowing bronze eyes staring deep into her soul. “You think the drugs and alcohol help? We both know you don’t even think that.” His head tilted slightly as he spoke the last few words. “You’ve been looking for somewhere to belong your whole life. This is it.”

Her eyes stung, something itching them as her hands tightened to fists at her sides. “Y-you don’t know shit about me.”

“I know enough.” Jesse’s voice softened a little bit more as he stared into her soul . “I know the hospitals couldn’t help. I know your mom’s at the end of her rope. I know the schools have written you off as a problem child, and I know you spend most nights trying to drink yourself blind just to make the monsters go away.” He spread his hands out wide. “How am I doing so far?”

Her jaw clenched, teeth gritted together so damn tight it hurt. Sure, she wanted to scream, to throw something, to storm out and never look back. But what was the only other option?

Back to being alone with the monsters?

“Not like I got anywhere better to be…” The shrug she gave was so forced she knew it was damn obvious but she didn’t give a fuck right now. With nothing else to do, Scar just stared out the window through narrowed eyes, skyline somehow looking distorted and blue through the window for some odd reason.

DJ broke into a wide grin as Jesse just nodded, sliding up his glasses again. Of course. Like he didn’t expect this.

“Good choice, Scarlett. Welcome to Grimmwald Secondardy Academy for the Talented and Gifted.” The billionaire rose from his seat, all business as he brushed some imaginary dirt off his shirt. “Darius will show you the ropes. We’ll contact your parents and have them reach you. Trust me, they won’t say no to this either.”

Scar didn’t doubt that, but wasn’t sure exactly why she was so sure either. Mom and Dad did always want me off their hands. Yeah, they had two more kids to focus on now, anyway.

Jesse nodded again and moved toward the door, the man pausing his steps just to add, “Try not to break anything on your first day.”

And just like that, he was gone and she was left with DJ, the human equivalent of a pitbull-retriever mix.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ love this place.” He jumped in her face, practically vibrating.  “Come on, let’s get you to process. You need your uniform.”

Uniform? 

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

An hour later, Scarlett found herself in what she assumed was an administrative office, filling out forms while a staff member explained the basic rules and schedule of the Academy. They’d also done some kind of medical scan, which apparently assessed her “Negative Energy levels.”

The staff member in charge of the whole thing was a woman in her thirties with steel-gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her tits were fuck-huge, though, Scar couldn’t deny that, and the modest businesslady outfit wasn’t doing her any favors body-wise. She ran Scarlett through a bunch of different boring forms and a brief scan with some random remote-looking thing with an antenna that supposedly assessed her “Negative Energy levels.”

“Students are classified by ability level and control,” the staff member was explaining, a middle-aged woman with a clipboard and an expression that suggested she’d seen it all before and wanted a longer lunch break. “The class system is from E, lowest, to S, highest. Based on our pre-assessment, you’ll be classified as D Class, lowest class suitable for combat,” the woman explained, handing Scarlett a folder of papers.

“The hell does that mean?” Scarlett bit down on her tongue before she could spit anything worse than that.

“D Class is just where everyone who’s actually at least combat capable starts—no big deal,” Darius jumped in before the administrator could respond, standing up from where he was leaning up against the wall.. “I’m at B now, started at D just like you. Lex is almost a B Tier too. He’s a C right now, but he should hit B Minus any day now—our team’s gonna be stacked once you level up!”

Level up? The redhead pulled a face. What is this, a fucking video game?

“Students are classified by ability level and control,” the administrator continued, seemingly unfazed by Scarlett’s glare. “You’ll be reassessed after your training period.”

“Whatever,” Scarlett muttered as she tried not to roll her eyes, pissed off at a bunch of arbitrary ranking bullshit they were throwing at her, a ranking she was damn near the bottom of for some fucking reason. I punched a monster’s fuckin’ head off, honestly.

“Standard Grimmwald Academy uniform,” the woman added, sliding a neatly folded stack of clothes across the desk. “You wear it during school hours and whenever you are representing the school in any capacity, official or otherwise. You will get several different sets for both Fall and Spring.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure exactly what a grimace was but she knew the look on her face had to be close to it as she unfolded the items: a royal blue blazer with black lapels, white button-up shirt, matching blue tie, and a pleated blue skirt. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Black buttons indicate D Tier status,” the woman continued in her slow drawl, ignoring Scarlett’s displeasure. “Pants option is available if you prefer.”

“I’m good.” She had nice fucking legs, she wasn’t gonna hide them.

“Buttons show your Class by the way; black is D, bronze is C, silver is B, gold is A,” Darius explained, pointing to the silver buttons on his own blue blazer. “Collar for our years, too. We’re both third years, so white.”

“Third year? I just got here.” Scarlett frowned, holding up the blazer with two fingers like it might grow teeth and chomp on her.

“Academic year, means you’re in the junior equivalent,” the staff member clarified. “Based on your testing and age, you’re placed in third year courses and you will be assigned a student tutor to catch up on any courses.”

Scarlett examined the uniform with that grimace still in place. Uniforms meant rules, and rules meant someone telling her what to do. Still, the material wasn’t cheap crap—it actually felt decent quality. And she could already think of ways to modify it, make it less cookie-cutter.

Still… a uniform.

Like she was some private school brat… fuck, I am one.

DJ watched her with an eager smile, like a puppy waiting for her to acknowledge a gift he’d brought her. “Welcome to D-Class, rookie.”

Scarlett frowned, brow furrowed. “Don’t.”

“D-Class, you know, because you’re D Tier,” Darius explained, seemingly oblivious to her bad mood “Each Tier has classes, lectures, and training specific to their level. That’s where you’ll start.”

Scarlett looked down at the uniform again, at the black buttons that branded her as bottom-tier. Something hot and angry twisted in her gut—that familiar burn she got whenever someone tried to put her in a box. D Tier. Lowest of the low.

Fuck that.

“How do I move up?” The question came out hard, sharper than she intended but just as much as she meant it. “Fast.”

Darius’s grin only widened, those sharp canines almost seeming like a threat as he fixed those blood-red eyes right on her as if just now seeing her for the first time. “Train hard. Master your NE. Prove yourself in field exercises.”

Scarlett made a fist. “Hm.”

Those red eyes tracked down to her fist until she finally unclenched, before returning back to her face, that perfect Stepford grin still in place. “What’s the rush? You planning a speed run or something?”

“Maybe.” Scarlett folded the uniform back up, mind already racing. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was fight her way up from the bottom. “So, when do we start?”

“First thing tomorrow morning. For now, let me show you where you’ll be staying.” Darius nodded as he led her back into the hallway. “Girls’ dorms are on the east section of this wing. Boys are west. Common areas in the middle.”

“So this place, yeah?” she asked. “A superhero training school? Just like that? We the X-Men?”

Darius blinked and stuttered in his walk for a second before letting out a loud laugh. “Kind of, yeah. We’re learning to be Hunters—that’s H-U-N-T-E-R, Humanity’s Ultimate Negative Threat Elimination Regiment,” the fat kid said, rattling off the acronym like it was absolutely normal. “We find SPECTERs, we take them down, we keep normal people safe.”

“Normal people,” Scarlett repeated, the words bitter on her tongue. She’d spent her whole life trying to convince people she was normal. Now I’m officially certifiably not.

“Yeah, you know, NONEs—people who can’t see what we see.” Darius rolled his shoulders more than he did shrug. “Most folks go their whole lives never knowing SPECTERs exist. Lucky them, right?”

Darius stopped as he came to a door with the number 217 on it, Scarlett stopping beside him and looking at it, already trying to memorize the number. “This is you,” Darius said, handing her a key card. “Each room is private, so no roommates, for third years and up at least. Cafeteria’s on the ground floor, open pretty much twenty-four hours but you only get three free meals a day. Don’t worry, you can earn Grim Points to spend on stuff. Classes start at 9:30 tomorrow—I’ll come grab you at nine so you don’t get lost.”

Scarlett took the key card, turning it over in her hands. “And… the other… teammate?”

“Alexander Martin Winthrop the Fourth aka my guy Lexy,” Darius said, rolling his eyes even as he grinned. “He’s from a big family on the Upper East Side, or something. A lil’ weird, kinda, and he’s weird… till you get to know him, but a cool guy. He’s working with some seniors on a project today, but you’ll meet him tomorrow.”

Great… just great. She fought the urge to shoot DJ a harsh look. Rich boy with an attitude. Just what I need.

“Thanks,” Scarlett said, the word feeling strange in her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d genuinely thanked someone. “For, you know… last night. And showing me around or whatever.”

Darius’s grin didn’t soften, but the red in his eyes seemed to darken a little, his intensity fading just a little somehow. “No problem. That’s what teammates do.” He started backing down the hallway. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna be wild.”

As DJ disappeared around the corner, Scarlett let out a long sight. Might as well. Without wasting another moment, the redhead swiped the key card and stepped into her new room, green eyes scanning the place before she took a second step forward. Not bad.

It really wasn’t.

Sure, it was simple and definitely fancy in that modern way, but it was also not cramped at all; a bed, desk with a laptop on it, dresser, window with a decent view of the city. Someone had even already brought her backpack from last night, the beaten-up black bag sitting on the bed.

A familiar friend in strange lands.

The redhead flopped hard onto the mattress, the weight of everything crashing down as quickly as she had on the soft-as-hell but perfectly firm surface of her brand-new-bed. “Jesus fuck… is everything in this place so top-fuckin-tier?”

A day back, she’d been getting drunk with fake fuckin’ friends who didn’t give a shit about her, and called her a slut behind her back. Now she was enrolled in some secret academy for superkids ready to fight the monsters she’d been screaming about ever since she was 9 years old.

Scarlett laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, as she let a grin cross her face. 

D Tier? Please. They had no idea what she was capable of.