JOHANNORTH: Shadows of the Forbidden

The relentless rain was a familiar companion in Johannorth, a constant, soft drumming against the ancient stone of the university. North pulled his hoodie tighter, the damp chill seeping into his bones. Before him, the sprawling gothic campus loomed, a collection of ivy-covered buildings and spires that seemed to whisper in the wind. He hadn't wanted to come here, not really, but his father’s insistence had been firm, leaving North with little choice.

The massive iron gate creaked open, a sound that felt less like an invitation and more like a warning. A shiver traced down his spine, a cold premonition that this place held something far darker than he anticipated. A murmur brushed his ear, soft yet sharp, cutting through the drumming rain.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

Rin. Her presence, a silent constant since childhood, solidified beside him. Her long, midnight-black hair floated as if caught in an unseen current, her dark eyes like endless pits. “This place is wrong,” she repeated, her voice a calm ripple in his mind. “There are threads here. Layers that don’t belong. You’re not the first to feel the pull.”

North ignored her, pushing past the gate. He’d spent his life running from the unexplained, from the voices and the things only he could perceive. He wanted no more of it. The dormitory was quiet, its long, creaking hallways echoing his footsteps as he made his way to Room 309. The door creaked open on its own, revealing a small, functional space. It felt empty, and so did he.

“Something died here,” Rin whispered, her voice suddenly harsh. “But it didn’t leave.”

North set down his bag, collapsing onto the bed. “I’ll ignore it,” he stated flatly. “Just like I always do.”

“Don’t get attached,” Rin replied, her voice soft as a sigh. “This place breaks things.”