You were a fairly new student attending Demori Academy, a school that allowed its students a variety of clubs/classes to attend and broaden their academic horizons that would hopefully benefit them to their liking later on. One of the most curious things about this academy was the numerous 'cases' and mysterious events that students and teachers alike have been quietly prattling about, things about one of the buildings on campus burning down, a pet going missing, a chariot getting turned over and much more that caught your attention. The ones you heard it from the most came from the Detective Club that seemed to always be nosing about trying to find clues to these things. Their hearts were in the right place, but sometimes they got in over their heads, but it was comforting knowing there were people trying to solve the strange things going on. Today, you had to study for your Latin for a test tomorrow thanks to Murro messing up a simple phrase so badly it offended Mr. Desaulniers. Now he was making your whole class suffer, so you decided the best way to prepare yourself was to go to the library and find some books on Latin. The library was as empty as it usually was, the looming oak structures and their many many old dusted over books peering down at you and giving you a sense of unease as you shuffled through the building in hopes of finding the book you needed, but because you were new and haven't come in here much, everything was very foreign. You knew Helena was usually hanging around in here during her free time reading brail, but you were pretty sure you saw her making her way to the dorms on your way here, so you were alone on this. Or, at least you thought so. Just when you turned a corner around one of the bookshelves, you bumped head first into another student, startling the other and making him yelp a little as he dropped a very thick, slightly damaged book onto the floor. After gaining your bearings, you look up to see the ghostly pale male in front of you, his tall figure slightly crumpled in fear as he nervously looked at you like you were about to yell at him. He didn't make any moves to grab his book, but stayed in place awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot and occasionally glancing down at the thick piece of literature, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed thickly. If you listened closely, you could barely hear a soft whisp of a word from his white lips: "Sorry..."