Chapter 253
With Carly and Lesly leading the way, Ophelia found her way to Briony’s dorm room.
The buzz of gossip in the hallway instantly fell silent as soon as Ophelia appeared.
It wasn’t hard to see why. Ophelia carried an aura of cold intensity that made everyone feel like the air had grown thinner.
The moment she stepped into the dorm, Ophelia could immediately tell which bed was Briony’s.
It was the first one on the left near the restroom, marked by a faded blue plaid sheet and a thin, neatly folded blanket. The desk above it held nothing but a few basic toiletries.
In stark contrast to the other three beds in the room, Briony’s was so clean and sparse it looked as though no one lived there.
Even if Briony had prepared for her death, she still hadn’t wanted to inconvenience others.
Ophelia opened Briony’s locker. Aside from two sets of equally faded clothes, there was nothing inside.
She seemed to be searching for something.
The other two roommates, unaware of the situation, tried to step forward but were quickly stopped by Carly and Lesly. A quiet explanation from them was enough to ensure no one interrupted.
“Professor Spencer, what are you looking for? Let me help you,” Lesly offered, eager to assist.
Ophelia shook her head. She lifted her gaze toward the bed.
Ophelia reached out, running her hand over the mattress. It felt hard, with only the thin sheet separating it from the bed frame. But under the mattress, she could feel something hidden.
Pulling back the sheet, Ophelia uncovered a meticulously placed design draft, à drawing almost 3 feet long, composed of dozens of A4 sheets taped together.
She picked it up carefully. Every line was hand–drawn, the paper slightly yellowed with age. It depicted a layout of schools, homes, and other structures.
Briony’s handwriting was elegant, just like herself, calm and graceful, like a breeze through the mountains.
Ophelia’s thoughts drifted back to a memory of the girl with the missing fingers. That child had always held a small stick between her thumb and ring finger, sketching smooth, flowing lines on Gloomhaven’s sandy shores, skyscrapers, houses, schools…
“Ophelia, when I grow up, I want to be an architect. I want to build houses and schools in Gloomhaven so that everyone has a place to live and a chance to learn…” Briony smiled.
Her innocent voice echoed in Ophelia’s ears as if it were only yesterday.
“I’ll make it happen for you,” Ophelia murmured.
Her suppressed tears fell onto the aged paper.
Ophelia carefully rolled up the draft and, with one last look around, left the dorm room.
*****
Elsewhere, Zackary stared in shock at the evidence circulating online, accompanied by an unblurred, high–definition video.
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He felt like he’d been thrown into an ice pit.
The plan he’d thought was foolproof had been exposed.
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that vile, humiliating video was now public. At this point Zackary could only pray the school would protect him.
As that thought crossed his mind, the sound of shattering glass echoed through his office.
Someone had smashed the window, and a handful of sharp stones hit Zackary squarely on the head and body.
Blood immediately began to stream down his face.
“Who is it? Who the hell did this?” Zackary shouted. His car had already been vandalized by groups of students earlier, and now even his office wasn’t spared.
Though furious, Zackary didn’t dare approach the broken window.
He knew that with the situation spiraling out of control, the school wouldn’t want to escalate matters further. Zackary’s only option now was to tie his fate to theirs, to share in both their fortunes and their disgrace.
Ducking and weaving, Zackary made his way to Cade’s office.
Cade was sitting there, his head in his hands, visibly frustrated.
The school administration had already received calls from the board members.
The incident had begun to spread beyond the campus, and if it continued, it would affect the school’s investors.
A group of faculty members was gathered in the office, brainstorming solutions.
Many of them cast Zackary looks of disdain and contempt as he walked in.
“Mr. Baxter, I–I let myself be blinded by my impulses. I know I was wrong. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please, for the sake of my years of service, even if I haven’t contributed much, I’ve at least worked hard. Please help me out here.” Zackary pleaded.
Cade frowned deeply and let out a long sigh. “For now, it’s best if you stay out of sight. Take a couple of days off at home and don’t show up on campus,” Cade finally said.
The students were furious with Zackary, so much so that they’d probably parade him through the streets, pelting him with rotten vegetables and eggs if given the chance.
As long as Zackary stayed out of sight, the situation could still be contained.
“Alright, I trust the school.” Zackary nodded hastily, understanding that the school was willing to cover for him.
Taking the cue, he didn’t press his luck. Wrapping himself up tightly, he sneaked out through the school’s less–crowded west gate.
With his car wrecked, Zackary had no choice but to wait by the roadside for a cab.
Just then, a black business car screeched to a halt beside him.
Before it had even stopped completely, two burly men in black suits jumped out.
“W–who are you… Help…” Zackary’s plea was cut short by a heavy blow to his head. He felt a rough burlap sack thrown over him as they stuffed him into the car.
Time blurred as the wind howled past his ears. When Zackary finally came to, he found himself sprawled on cold concrete,
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Chapter 253
completely disoriented.
His mouth was sealed with duct tape, muffling his cries.
Footsteps approached, growing louder and closer. Zackary, still blindfolded, couldn’t see a thing.
Suddenly, the sack over his head was yanked off. Harsh white light assaulted his eyes, making him squint in pain.
When his vision adjusted, he realized he was on the rooftop of an unfinished high–rise.
Dark clouds loomed overhead, casting a heavy, oppressive shadow.
Standing before him, Ophelia gripped a gun, its barrel cold and black, aimed directly at him.
Zackary’s eyes widened in terror, the whites taking over as his pupils shrank to pinpricks. He shook his head frantically, his face twisted in panic as he stared at Ophelia, who now looked every bit the demon.
“Zackary,” Ophelia said, her voice cold and deliberate. “Remember that today is the anniversary of your death.
“But letting you die so easily would be too merciful.” As she finished speaking, Ray walked over with a bungee cord, methodically binding Zackary’s legs together.
Zackary had no idea what they were planning.
He could only lie there helplessly, like meat on a chopping block, awaiting his fate.
Struggling proved useless. No one would come to his aid.
He tried writhing, but a heavy boot pressed against his head, pinning him in place.
“You’re too noisy,” Eric muttered, a lollipop hanging from his lips. His pristine white sneakers ground against Zackary’s face. “Shh… Stay quiet. You’ll have plenty of chances to scream in a minute.”
Zackary turned pale as sweat poured from his forehead, soaking his light blue shirt.
Ray secured the cord to a nearby concrete pillar. “All set.”
Eric lifted his foot and grabbed Zackary by the collar, hauling him to his feet.
From this rooftop, dozens of stories high, the view down revealed nothing but jagged rebar and solid concrete below.
“Let’s have some fun,” Eric said with a mischievous grin.
He kicked Zackary hard in the lower back, yanking off the duct tape over his mouth at the same time. “Off you go!” “Ah!” Zackary’s scream grew fainter as he plunged downward.
The bungee cord snapped back, sending him bouncing upward, only to plummet again. It was like a twisted version of bungee jumping.
Each time the cord recoiled, Zackary’s body smashed against the concrete pillar, leaving him battered and bloodied. Dangling midair, his head oozed blood that dripped down, mixing with a yellowish liquid seeping from his clothes.
“Wanna go again?” Eric asked, his tone playful and taunting.
“N–no… No… Zackary shook his head violently, his body reeking of fear and urine.
Then how about writing something?” Eric suggested with a sly smile.
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