Chapter Text
All Maisie wanted to do was scream.
think i’m gonna drop the class. sorry.
The email burned into her eyes as she stared at her phone, grip tightening around it. Was this a joke? How many times had she emailed this guy, trying desperately to meet up so they could work on their project. Then, after not responding for days, he finally broke his radio silence with this.
“You gotta be shitting me.” This was the last thing she needed. Not only did she have a huge exam for her Intro to Poli Sci class next week, but now she had to deal with her project partner potentially dropping the class two days before their due date. Actually, less than two days, since it was almost midnight now.
Her fingers flew as she furiously typed out a reply, letting this guy know just exactly what she thought of his stupid decision. Go ahead and drop out if that’s what you wanted, but did he really have to inconvenience her?
Groaning, Maisie laid down on the floor, covering her eyes with her arm. The lights in her college’s dance studio were bright, making her incoming headache worse. She came here to let out some steam, her stress melting away with the sweat rolling down her body. It had helped, until she was stretching during her cool down and took a glance at her phone. Welcome back, stress.
“Hey, Maisie, I’m about to close up for the - uh, you alright?”
It was the janitor, the one who always let her in after the building closed so she didn’t have to deal with other people. As long as she didn’t make any huge messes and left early enough for him to mop the floor, he was cool with it. Of course, the occasional coffee and snack she brought him didn’t hurt either.
“I’m fine, Ernie,” Maisie said, not taking her arm off her eyes. “I’m fine.”
She could see Ernie shrugging in her mind. “Whatever you say.”
This was why Maisie liked Ernie. He never pried into her life. She’d have to bring him two doughnuts tomorrow. She was still sweaty and sore as she got up and left, waving goodbye to Ernie.
A breeze blew as Maisie stepped outside, making her shiver. Summer was ending, which meant nights were starting to get colder. Thankfully Maisie had the foresight to bring a jacket to cover her bare arms. She checked the time on her phone. It was late. Hopefully her roommate would be asleep by now. Sleeping probably wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially considering the 8 AM she had in the morning.
Campus was always quiet this time of night. A few windows were lit up, and there were some distant voices somewhere nearby, but other than that there were little signs of life. For most of her walk, it was just her and the streetlamps lighting the way.
Her head was starting to hurt. She took her dark, wavy hair out of its tight ponytail, lessening some of the tension. Her hair was oily and dirty from her dance workout. She definitely needed to wash it soon. She also needed to start studying for the aforementioned exam. Her parents would want to know how she did on that one, especially considering the not so stellar grades she’d been getting in that class. Then there was that essay on Wuthering Heights she hadn’t even started yet. Not to mention the laundry she’d been putting off for at least a week.
Enough. Worrying about this stuff wouldn’t help. The only priority right now was getting back to the dorm, showering, and going to sleep. So what if college wasn’t going exactly how Maisie had imagined? Who cared if she was extremely stressed and tired? Who cared if she hadn’t made any friends? She got into her parents Alma Mater and would follow in their footsteps, becoming a successful lawyer. That’s all that mattered.
Maisie stopped at the crosswalk. She always stopped, even if it was late at night and there were no cars in sight. Safety first. As she stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the crosswalk light to change, she looked up at the night sky and sighed.
“Universe, give me a sign. Will everything turn out okay?”
No response. The crosswalk light changed. Maisie stepped out onto the street, so lost in thought that she didn’t even hear the horse drawn carriage until it was right on top of her.
Maisie definitely had a headache now. The pain pounded against her skull, right in the center of her forehead. She rubbed her eyes, hoping to make the pain go away. God, she was groggy. Her brain felt like it was swimming in goop. Wait, when had she fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was walking home and there was a horse. A horse? That couldn’t be right.
Maisie opened her eyes expecting to see her dorm room, but instead she was met with darkness. Complete and total darkness. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Still dark.
What the hell was going on? Where was she? She tried to sit up, but she whacked her head against something. The pain from her headache jumped around, making her wince. Reaching out, Maisie touched something in front of her. Wood. That’s when she realized she was in a box.
Okay. Okay, alright. She’s in some sort of small box. Cool, cool, cool. Not ideal but it didn’t seem like she was hurt anywhere. At least not physically. All she could do was stay calm and find a way out.
Maisie placed her hand against the wall in front of her. Tentatively, she pushed. Nothing. But it didn’t seem that heavy. Maybe if she just pushed a little harder it would-
The wooden door fell forward, landing with a loud BANG. The sudden light blinded Maisie, and her feet got tangled up in something. She fell forward, letting out a small yell as she landed on her hands and knees.
“Huh?” She’d landed on a hard, stone floor. Long, elegant black sleeves pooled around her arms. This wasn’t her jacket. And this definitely wasn’t her dorm.
Several coffins lined the small pulpit she was on, some on the ground and some floating in the air. A giant, ornate mirror stood in the center, looming over her. The only light source were hundreds of candles on the walls and in tall candelabras. This was some sort of large chamber hall made of stone. It reminded Maisie of the old cathedral her parents used to take her to.
But Maisie had never seen this place before in her life. And as her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she realized something else. She wasn’t alone.
Dozens, if not hundreds, of people stood in the hall. All of them wore the same black robe, all with their hoods up. They stood in perfect lines, none of them moving. The people closest to the pulpit all stared at her with varying degrees of shock on their faces.
Only one thought ran through Maisie’s mind, and she said it aloud before the rational part of her brain could stop her.
“Is this a fucking cult?”
Gasps and murmurs echoed through the hall. Whoops. Probably should have kept that one to herself. Cults don’t typically like being called cults. But could anyone blame her? It was like a scene straight out of Eyes Wide Shut.
With shaky legs, Maisie pushed herself up off the floor. She was wearing the same robe as everyone else here. Did someone change her while she was unconscious?
“Goodness me. It is unheard of for a student to emerge on their own.”
A man stood on the pulpit with her. He was tall, with pale skin and dark hair. But what really made him stand out was his outfit: top hat, large cloak, and a bird mask covering his eyes and nose. It was a look that could only be described as a yassified plague doctor.
“What a terribly impatient lad. I mean, really,” the man said, stepping closer. Maisie’s body tensed. Quickly, she looked around for anything she could use as a weapon. No such luck. Instead, she raised her fists, getting into a defensive position.
“Don’t come any closer.”
The man laughed. “Oh, calm down. You have no reason to distrust - “
“Are you the one who kidnapped me?” Maisie asked. This guy had to be the cult leader, with the way he dressed and held himself.
“My boy, what are you talking about?” the man asked.
Maisie raised her fists higher. “Being taken someplace against your will is pretty clearly kidnapping.”
“You’re here because you were chosen,” the man said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Shit. She was a sacrifice, wasn’t she? This cult chose her for some sort of ritual. If she didn’t get out of here now she would probably end up stabbed or set on fire or something. The only exit she could see was a set of huge wooden doors at the end of the hall, the sea of cultists standing between her and freedom. Great.
The man smiled kindly at her. “Have you still not fully regained consciousness? The timespace teleportation must have muddled your memories.”
“The hell are you talking about?” Maisie snapped. A few people near her shuffled, making her jump. Any minute now they would rush the stage and grab her.
“I sense some confusion coming from you. But fear not! Kindhearted Crowley will explain,” the man, Crowley presumably, said. “Welcome, dear boy, to Night Raven College!”
He flung his hands out in a grand gesture, cloak fluttering behind him.
A… college? “What?” Maisie asked.
“It is the most prestigious institution for mages in all of Twisted Wonderland. Students from all over the world who display a rare gift for magic gather here to study and hone their skills. Quite impressive, yes?” Crowley grinned.
Oh, good. He’s more delusional than she first thought. Maybe this was a dream. She hoped this was a dream.
“You are here because the Dark Mirror recognized in you a particular magical aptitude - congratulations.” Crowley cautiously stepped toward her. “Do you not recall encountering a black carriage carrying the gate that brought you here?”
A hazy image of a giant black horse rearing up and landing on top of her flashed into Maisie’s mind. She swallowed. “No. I don’t.”
Crowley hummed in thought. “Well no matter. Your memories will come back to you shortly. In the meantime, we shall begin the orientation. You may step up to the Dark Mirror and - “
“Like I’m gonna let you sacrifice me for your cult bullshit!” Maisie said. More murmurs and even some laughter came from the crowd.
Crowley frowned. “Sacrifice? My dear boy, this is a school! An honored institution of learning!”
Maisie looked more closely at the crowd. Everyone appeared to be around her age. And no one had tried to grab her yet. Hm. Maybe this was a school. A weird one, but a school nonetheless. She lowered her hands.
“Er, still. I don’t appreciate being dragged to a school I never applied to. I’m already getting my degree somewhere else,” Maisie said.
“What? You can’t -,” Crowley stuttered. “A student refusing their admission is unheard of.”
“Obviously, there’s been a mistake on your end. If you let me go now, we can put this whole thing behind us and I won’t have to get my lawyers involved.” Maisie crossed her arms and stared hard at Crowley. When he didn’t respond, only gawking at her with his mouth open, she took the few steps down the stage and began making her way toward the door.
“Stop!” Crowley finally called out. “I will not allow you to refuse your enrollment!”
Maisie flipped him off over her shoulder. “Oh look, here’s me. Refusing my enrollment.”
“If that student doesn’t want his spot, then let me take it!”
A shadow moved behind the giant window over the door. Suddenly, shattering glass rained down on top of the crowd as something broke through. Maisie flinched, instinctively covering her head. A few shards of glass cut her hands, her palms stinging in pain.
“Sorry for eavesdropping, but I got something to say!” A gray cat stood in front of her. And it was talking.
The cat was talking.
“People from all over are dying to get into this school, so if you don’t wanna be here then hand over your spot to me, the Great Grim!” the cat pointed right at her.
This had to be a dream. Right now, she was sound asleep in her bed, her mind conjuring up an adorable, sassy cat. But the pain in her hands from the shattered glass brought her back to reality. Dreams never hurt.
Crowley ran up to them, chastising the cat for breaking a priceless window. The cat - Grim - ignored him, instead yelling at Maisie to give him the uniform she had on. But Maisie didn’t respond. Her brain was running a thousand miles a second trying to comprehend what she was seeing.
There actually was a talking, walking cat right in front of her. If this wasn’t a dream and she was actually awake, then there was only one explanation
Crowley hadn’t lied. Magic was real.
...
Well shit.