Cobweb Head

s i x t e e n

"Whoa – what happened to you?"

I slumped back into the booth, running a hand through my ruffled hair. I pulled out two leaves that'd gotten tangled in the mess.

Leo gawked. "You're bleeding!"

I frowned and looked down at my arm, where my sleeve had been ripped and blood had soaked into the rough fabric. A shallow cut ran along my shoulder. I should've cleaned up before going back.

"I'm – I'm fine, I just tripped." I internally face-palmed.

Mae watched me with a subtle glare. "We're not stupid, you know."

"I would never have guessed." I scoffed, earning another warning glance. Leo cocked his head to the side. "It doesn't matter, seriously. I'm fine."

I ended up patting the cut down with a napkin, just to stop the bleeding. It was only small, mostly just grazed skin, but I thought Leo was going to faint if I didn't.

I was silent for the majority of the day – there was something telling me I should've turned to Leo immediately, asked for answers about the nightmare, but a more obnoxious side was telling me I should've kept it a secret. I didn't know how much he knew about them – he could figure out things about me even I was too afraid to look at.

When we got back to the school, I went off on my own. I would've gone to watch Lacrosse practise, but an idea had interrupted the notion, and soon I was headed to the headmaster's office.

I didn't have access to the Frights' archives, but surely Grimm would have something hidden inside her office. Just an inkling of information.

I was sick with guilt for going behind Leo's back and failed to reassure myself. He'd done so much, to which I'd barely thanked, but it was too risky. What if I was some kind of freakish two-faced nightmare child? I didn't even know what that was, but I didn't think he'd want me as a friend then. 

Were we friends?

I detached the thought from my head, stopping around the corner as to look down the hall without being noticed. No one stood at the closed office door.

The sunlight that poured through the stained-glass windows flecked my torn shirt as I took towards it, gripping at the doorknob. I gave it a jostle, but it didn't give way. It was locked.

I cursed under my breath, running a hand through the tousled hair that'd fallen across my face. I turned away after another moment and moved around the corner again.

Then I heard a click.

I halted, quietly turning back and looking around the corner. Oliver was at the door, who softly pushed it open, only looking back once before disappearing into the office.

I frowned – Oliver was the headmaster's son, it made sense that he might go into her office to collect something. But that wasn't what struck me as odd; he looked ruffled, shoulders hunched with worry, as if he'd been the one running in the woods instead of me.

I waited longer, and my frown deepened when he appeared again. There was a jar in his hand, full of a glowing yellow liquid, as if some kind of angelic honey.

He hurried away, apprehension creasing his features, loosely pushing the door back. It didn't quite close.

I stole forward silently – I was better at staying quiet when I didn't think a pack of cultists were on their way to hypnotise me. Pausing before going inside, my gaze trailed over the corner Oliver had disappeared behind. What had he just taken?

I crept across the familiar office; Rosebud Tower was placed clearly outside the window.

I jostled at the desk's draws, finding mostly books and pens with dried ink. But when I went to open another, I found it locked. There was a copper keyhole indented into the edge.

I stared around the room and ran a hand along the old books, where dust collected at my fingertips. There was only one book that hadn't collected grime.

Its spine was layered over with a pale blue fabric, and some of the needlework had come undone. Despite its rugged appearance, it was clean. Barely a trace of lint had gathered at its fabrics.

I propped a finger over the top of the spine and tugged loosely. It went to fall into my palm but became stuck. It stopped.

There were two kinds of clicks that came next; the sound of bolts and cogs moving against each other, and the clipping of heels on floorboards. Headmaster Grimm was coming, and she was accompanied by another set of footsteps.

I pulled at the book again, with a little more hast than before. The rusted clicking continued, and soon the bookshelf was moving and I was moving with it.

It turned around slowly, and I found myself on the other side just as the creak of the door sounded from inside the office.

Grimm had a secret passageway?

Maybe it had been worth going here after all.

"There's been more sightings?" The headmaster's voice had the unmistakable edge of concern. Whoever she was with must've nodded, because she continued to speak. "She said she'd be back years ago – I didn't think she had it in her."

My heart rattled against my ribcage as if it wanted out.

"And it's only been in the forest? Nowhere else?" She asked. There was another nod. "I can't believe she did it, and now we've got her... abominations circling us."

"It might be best to confront them." Another voice spoke. "Perhaps we could find one, press them for questions, maybe even try and detach the nightmare."

It was cold where I was then, and chilled breezes rose up from behind me, where a clammy passage was buried deep into the earth. I continued to listen.

"Yes, that sounds like the best approach for now. I just – I had hoped we could do something for her." Her words choked off; sadness replacing concern. "It doesn't matter now. We have to keep a better lookout. Spread the word around, make sure to let other Fright groups around the area know."

There was a moment of silence, which I was certain would be filled with another nod, until Grimm gasped. "Someone's stolen a jar of dream syrup."

"What? Who has access to this room?"

"Only me, it's not – do you think she sent someone to steal it?" Oliver must've stolen the key.

I stepped away from the bookshelf, stealing a glance behind me. The deeper I looked down, the darker the passage grew. I gulped.

But I couldn't stay there; for all I knew they would be taking down this path for a leisurely stroll, with their freaky nightmare-wielding jewels in tow. With the office growing quiet, and a pained expression twisting my face, I took down the damp passage.

It was like collapsing into a pool of black ink.