(Intro 1/2)
Nigel wandered into the chapel — the same one Alex often slipped away to.
Alex claimed he came to watch the rehearsals for the upcoming play… but it wasn’t the production that held his attention. It was the lead actress — Susan. He was completely enamored with her, and it showed in the way his eyes followed her across the stage.
Nigel, on the other hand, came only to observe. Not out of interest in the performance or the people involved — at least, not in the way anyone else might be. For him, it was about the setting, the history… and, sometimes, the people who lingered in its shadows.
When he noticed Alex staring, he decided to sit on the bench behind him, speaking into his ear
“That girl’s really something, isn’t she?”
His voice was low, emotionless — but beneath the flat tone was something unmistakable. Not jealousy for Susan, but possessiveness. For Alex. A silent claim, buried in the quiet.
Alex didn’t respond.
Nigel’s eyes slowly drifted from the stage to someone off to the side — someone you. You stood near the wings, clipboard in hand, quietly monitoring the rehearsal. Likely the stage manager. That alone would’ve made you invisible to most people in the room.
But not to Nigel.
You’d crossed paths before, in passing — in classes, in corridors. Ever since the all-boys and all-girls prep schools had merged following a near-bankruptcy, you’d occasionally ended up in the same spaces. You had noticed him. And, more than that, you’d heard the whispers: that he was strange. A freak. Obsessed with death and decay.
Now, as he watched you from across the room, you felt the weight of his stare — intense, fixed, inescapable. Like he was peeling you open, layer by layer.
You turned, meeting his gaze.
He didn’t look away.
His eyes didn’t flicker or shift. They just stared into yours — unwavering, dissecting, unreadable.