Again, Dreaming

"After careful consideration, we are sorry to inform you that your application to Elysian has been denied." The man at the other end of the table tapped a stack of papers against his desk and set them aside, sighing. Mason sat there in silence. He had spent countless hours perfecting his application and preparing for the interview, yet it had all been for nothing. "But, with a little more effort, you can get in."

Mason shrugged. "Well, I can't apply again unless they contact me, right?"

"Not at all! If Elysian still deems your qualities useful, we will be sending you to another school."

"Another school?"

"Yes. From now on, you'll be dubbed as a Semi-Student. Meaning you'll be a student who — although isn't officially accepted — has still been deemed worthy."

Mason's eyes lit up. "So I'm still a candidate?"

"Correct. We'll be sending you an email in a few hours or so to tell you which school to go to."

"And it's owned by Elysian?"

"Yes. It's one of their facilities."

Mason breathed a sigh of relief. At least he still had a chance to prove himself. "Thank you for considering me for the Semi-Student program," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'll do my best at the new school."

"I know you will, kid. You can go now. Next!"

***

When Mason arrived home, the first thing he did was get on his computer. He scrolled through his emails until his eyes finally landed on one. He skimmed through the formalities and began reading like a robot, determined to find which school he would be moved to.

Upon concluding the reading, he was left shocked. A map and a street existed as means of access to the facility. The email explained the location, yet the name remained unmentioned. What type of school doesn't have a name? And although he would continue to think about it, he would forget more.

"Mason!" his mother called. "Dinner's ready!"

"Coming!" he said.

***

The two of them sat and ate together. "Mom?" Mason asked.

"Yes?"

"Is Dad coming back today?"

His mother shrugged. "He's a busy man, Mason. You can't blame him."

Mason nodded, not wanting to argue with her. He knew his father was an important businessman, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed every time he didn't show up. Mason's parents had been separated for two years now, and even though he had gotten used to it, he still missed his father's presence. 

After dinner, he went upstairs and began packing his backpack with materials for his new school. He didn't know what to expect, but he was determined to make the most of this opportunity. He checked his computer one last time before going to bed.

"Welcome to The Academy. Your first day is tomorrow at 8 am. Don't be late."

Mason was confused yet somewhat satisfied. At least it had a name, though he had never heard of The Academy before. Who even names their school "The Academy?" It sounds stupid.

Mason reverse-searched a few images online. It existed. Good. Just wanted to make sure. He turned off his computer and hit the hay.

***

Mason put on his best clothes and grabbed his backpack. When he went to the kitchen, he saw that his mother had left a note for him. "Good luck on your first day! Love, Mom." Mason smiled and left the house. He walked to the address that was given to him in the email and found himself in front of a large building.

He looked around. From the corner of his mind, he knew that there was a structure. Yet, he never checked on it. "Was this place always like this?" he thought. He surveyed the front gate. Hundreds of students were poring over notebooks, phones, everything. Mason gulped before pushing the door open. 

The inside of the school was larger than he anticipated. Not wanting to draw any attention to himself, Mason made his way to the stairs and checked the schedule pinned to the wall. He had read about this in the email.

8:45. Report to homeroom.

Mason hurriedly took out his phone and began scrolling through his agenda that had come along with the email. 

Room 8-A.

Mason walked down the hallways, squeezing past many students until he finally arrived. 

Mason took a deep breath and walked into the classroom. A young man with a warm smile was writing on the chalkboard at the front of the room. "Oh! Oh, you must be… Uh… Mason Lowry, right? I'm not the best a remembering names," the teacher said cheerfully, turning to face the new student.

"Uh, yes. And I believe you're Mr. Matthews?"

"Yes. Please, have a seat. Sit anywhere you want."

"Thank you, sir."

***

Mason woke up. He was back at the graveyard.

He looked down at the tombstone. ADAM BROWN, it read. Mason placed a bag of flowers beside it and left.

Back at home, Mason booted up his computer and began scouring the internet for any information he could find on Halen or The Academy. However, his searches turned up frustratingly little. The Academy seemed to have virtually no online presence aside from a bare-bones website with some vague marketing language. Which was strange, considering there were hundreds of students attending. Did people not know it existed?

Frowning, Mason turned his focus to Halen himself. A perfect killer.

He managed to find Halen's professional profile on a couple of education leadership sites, but there were no major red flags or scandals listed other than a few "debunks" on various mathematical papers.

He thought about pleading for information education forums or Reddit subthreads, but that would be too risky. He had already heard what Abbie said. Halen knew exactly when the agent would enter the building, and how to keep her mouth shut. He would have to resort to gathering information online if it was truly necessary — a last-ditch effort.

He logged off his computer and thought for a moment. If he couldn't find information online, he'd have to find information in person.