2

In a blink, an echoed whisper cut through the silence, startling the boys into motion. "Come – look – window! See!" Damien blurted, the urgency in his voice causing Nicholas and the others to sprint towards him. Their hurried footfalls echoed in the dormitory, bouncing off its austere walls. Nicholas, the most brutish among them, aggressively shoved the others aside, ensuring his was the first face to press against the cold glass.

Their breaths fogged the pane, but beyond the black canvas of the night, they saw only emptiness. The mysterious creature from the lawn had dissolved into the gloom, leaving Damien's claim unsubstantiated.

A scowl spread across Nicholas' features as he rounded on Damien, irritation and incredulity simmering in his eyes. "Shut up, Joey, there's nothing there – why'd you make us all run over like that?" His broad hand found Damien's shoulder, pushing him back with uncalled-for aggression.

The ensuing argument was as heated as it was futile, ending in a physical confrontation that rattled the room, their fellow students, and the floorboards beneath them. It was an eruption of pent-up resentment, schoolboy frustration and a spark of courage that Damien never knew he had. Their fight was a spectacle, one that brought the furious matron running and, later, earned them both chastising blows that dwarfed the pain of their roughhousing.

The following day was a mirror image of its predecessor, save for Damien's newfound reputation as the underdog who'd dared to challenge Nicholas, the school's resident tyrant. This distinction was a balm on Damien's bruised ego, but his thoughts were persistently haunted by the elusive creature he'd spotted.

His quest for answers led him to Carson, a figure he found comfort in amidst the cold stone and rigorous academic life of Morecombe Academy. Carson's office was a sanctuary, a haven cluttered with the remnants of a lifetime dedicated to learning and history, with a touch of eccentricity that was a breath of fresh air in their uniform existence.

Their conversation wove a tale that was as intriguing as it was unsettling. A royal named Lord Edward, a mad scientist of their time-travelling kind, a string of heinous murders, and the possibility that the very same souls could still be lingering around the school. It was a narrative that would be dismissed as farfetched by most, yet for Damien, it was a missing piece of his puzzle, a thread he could follow to understand the mystery of the creature.

His pursuit of knowledge led him to the dusty corridors of the library, among brittle pages that whispered tales of fantastic beasts and their ethereal existence. The search was tedious, taking him through volumes of information that only clouded his judgment further. In this sea of knowledge, he found no anchors, no lifelines that could pull him closer to the truth. The day's end saw him back in his dorm, no wiser than before and with a slew of excuses to face his teachers the next day.

Walking back, he couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. It was as if a second shadow had attached itself to him, trailing him in the dim light. A chill skittered up his spine, making him glance over his shoulder, expecting to see nothing but the grand statues dotting the hallway. Yet, standing only a few feet away was the creature from the lawn, its form appearing as tangible as the night around them. His heart hammered in his chest as he locked eyes with it, the reality of its existence finally catching up to him. It was not an illusion nor a ghost story. It was real.