Page 3 of Shadows and Stone

In the distance, the gorgeous gothic spires of Creelin University—known locally as Creepin U—rise above the town line. Gargoyles sit posted at high architectural ledges across campus, their stone-grey or neutral brown skin blending seamlessly into the masonry, their gazes focused as they guard their wards.

Gargoyles that look absolutely nothing like me.

The summer breeze ruffles my black hair, carrying the intoxicating scent of vanilla, buttery croissants, and rich espresso from the bakery’s exhaust vents below. My stomach rumbles, but I’m too distracted to care. I reach down, absently rubbing the soft material of my sleeve between my thumb and forefinger, my fingers automatically assessing the weave and texture without me even thinking about it.

It’s an odd, phantom instinct. Perhaps it’s something from a forgotten life. A life I can no longer remember.

For the last ten years, my past has been nothing but a blank slate. A decade ago, I woke up as a massive purple gargoyle with zero memories of who or what I was before. Memory loss is common in newly turned monsters, but I have no idea what my story was. And why ten years ago? Was it related to the ten-year anniversary of the Halloween wave, or was that a coincidence?

I spent months searching for any information on who I was, including speaking with monster doctors who estimated I was in my thirties. By their calculations I would be about thirty-four or thirty-five now. Was I a human turned into a monster? Or a stone statue brought to life by whatever strange anomaly swept the earth? I don’t know. I used to drive myself crazy searching for answers. I spent years taking odd security jobs and bouncing at clubs, chasing dead ends and lingering questions.

Now, I’m just tired of searching.

I’m ready to live.

Enrolling at Creepin U is my chance to find out who I am now, rather than who I was back then. I want to take classes, discover a passion, and find a circle of friends who can accept this monstrous frame of mine.

Down on the sidewalk, laughter draws my attention. A group of students wearing Creelin U sweatshirts walk past, chatting animatedly as they head toward campus.

My gaze drifts toward a small, sunlit wooden bench outside the bookstore across the street.

A stunning young man is stepping toward it. He’s stylish with a lean build and striking violet hair that practically shines in the light. I lean forward on the ledge, fascinated, as he settles onto the bench, tilts his chin up to the sky, and closes his eyes. As if he’s taking a damn catnap right out in the open. A small smile tips my lips. There’s a playful, regal grace to him that leaves me wondering if he’s some kind of feline shifter. Something about it is…enduring and warms my chest.

Who is he, and why do I need to know?

Before I can linger on the thought, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from my academic advisor, reminding me of our afternoon appointment to discuss my campus guard assignment.

Unfurling my massive, dark leathered wings, I take a deep breath, push off the ledge, and launch myself into the blue sky, gliding toward the university.

An hour later, I’m sitting in the cramped office across from my advisor, a sweet satyr named Mr. Giles. He’s flipping through my student file like it’s a resume, and something about the stern look on his face makes my stomach coil.

“I see what you mean,” Mr. Giles says, adjusting his glasses. “You’re correct, most gargoyles instinctually have this need to protect and guard. Here, at Creepin U they traditionally secure a physical station. Whether it’s a library archway, a dorm balcony, or the clock tower, it’s a place they can call theirs. But, as you can see, we have a bit of a supply problem.”

“I know. All the guard posts are taken.” I nod, shifting uncomfortably in a chair that’s far too small for my broad frame and wings. Even with all the monster accommodations here on campus, it’s as if they never prepared for creatures like me. Not only does my purple granite skin make me seem different from my gray stone-like brethren, I’m taller too.

“Yeah,” Mr. Giles sighs, scratching his head. “Our gargoyles have held those perches for two decades. And frankly, with your... unique disposition and striking color, blending into gothic stone isn't really in your wheelhouse.”

“Oh, I know how to blend into the shadows if needed.” I bite back a dry chuckle. “So, what do I do instead? I need a campus position to qualify for the work-study tuition waiver.” Not that I can’t afford it, but living alone for so long has taught me to save every penny when I can.

Mr. Giles taps his chin thoughtfully as he studies me. “Ya know, gargoyles might have this need to guard a particular location, but the core instinct is protection. What if, instead of guarding a building, you guarded a person?”

I tilt my head. “A person?”

“Mmhmm. Okay, pause that thought.” Mr. Giles reaches for his desk phone and presses a speed dial button. “Dean Yaga? It’s Giles. I have Ryker in my office now. The purple gargoyle... Right. I was thinking about the VIP housing request for our new celebrity transfer student.”

He hums in agreement and nods before putting the call on speaker.

“Hi, Ryker,” Dean Yaga’s voice fills the room, followed by fingers tapping a keyboard. “How are you?”

I glance over at Mr. Giles; my face scrunched in confusion. He gives me a reassuring smile and points at the phone. Indicating I should answer.

“I’m good. Thank you.”

“Great, that’s lovely to hear. I have your student profile up on my screen and I noticed here you have lots of security experience.”

“I do.”

“Well, we have a high-profile student that has just arrived. He’s a famous actor and former K-pop idol from Korea. He isn’t quite that huge here in the states, but he definitely has some superfans. His presence is already causing quite the stir among students and local press. We need a discreet personal bodyguard to ensure his safety on campus and handle crowd control.”