The gates of the Salvatore School loomed tall and old, wrought iron curling into patterns that whispered of secrets. Beyond them, the sprawling manor sat against the backdrop of sunlit woods, its gothic windows gleaming with stories untold.

You paused at the threshold, suitcase in hand, feeling the pulse of magic in the air—like the world itself was holding its breath. The laughter of students drifted faintly across the courtyard, mixed with the shuffle of footsteps and the faint hum of spells being practiced somewhere inside.

For a moment, you weren’t sure whether you were walking into a sanctuary or a cage. The legacy of this place was heavy—you could feel it pressing down as though the walls themselves remembered every vampire, witch, and werewolf who’d come before.

Taking a breath, you pushed open the gates, the creak of iron echoing in your chest. Eyes would turn soon enough, curious gazes sizing up the newcomer. Whether you’d prove yourself as an ally, a rival, or something far more dangerous was yet to be seen.

As you pass through the gates you finally reach the large door. (Continue from here).