Chapter 1- Drowned? or Intentionally Drowned?

As I walked toward our school building, something caught my attention. A crowd had gathered around the celestial-shaped fountain—one of the school’s most iconic designs. It wasn’t just a regular pond; it was wide, deep, and styled like a pool, with no fish, only flowing water pouring from the mouth of a massive lion statue. The stone beast stood tall and proud, its expression fierce, as if guarding something sacred.

“What’s going on?” a student asked, rushing past me, her voice laced with curiosity and concern.

I stepped closer, weaving through the murmuring crowd. Whispers floated in the air like drifting smoke—uneasy, cautious, cold.

Then I saw it.

Floating lifelessly in the center of the water was a girl. Her uniform clung to her skin, her hair spread out like dark ink in the water. The surface rippled softly around her, as if the fountain itself grieved.

Gasps erupted around me.

"Is she—?"

"Is that... Mikaela?"

The name struck something in me.

Mikaela. The girl who sat two rows ahead of me in Literature. The one with the bright hair clips, like little shields against whatever haunted her.

But now, she was motionless. Too still.

“Did she drown?” someone whispered.

Or was she… drowned on purpose?

The question lingered like a shadow—dark, quiet, and terrifying.

The school guards finally arrived, their voices sharp as they began pushing the crowd back.

“Move along! Class hours have started!”

One by one, the students hesitated, then slowly backed away. Some looked shaken. Others, disturbed. The smell was starting to creep into the air—faint at first, but unmistakable. The stench of death, raw and bitter.

No one wanted to admit it, but the body was starting to rot.

Still, I didn’t pay much attention. I wasn’t like them.

Murders didn’t shock me.

In fact, I had a strange relationship with death—some would call it fascination. Others might say obsession.

Me? I just call it a hobby.

I slipped away from the crowd without a word, my eyes lingering one last time on Mikaela’s lifeless body as it floated beneath the lion’s gaze.

Whoever did it… did it clean. No blood, no obvious wounds. Just her. Dead.

And I couldn’t help but smile—just a little.

Because now, things were finally getting interesting.

Inside the classroom, everything felt… off.

The chairs were the same. The whiteboard still had last week’s formulas half-erased. But the atmosphere? Tense. Hollow. Like everyone was pretending they didn’t just see a corpse float in the school fountain.

The teacher walked in, adjusted her glasses, and tried to act normal. “Good morning. Let’s settle down and—”

“Miss, is it true Mikaela’s dead?” someone blurted out from the back.

She froze. Her knuckles whitened around her marker. “There is no official statement yet. Let’s stay focused on today’s lesson.”

But no one was listening. Not really.

I sat by the window, watching the fountain from afar. They’d cordoned it off with yellow tape, like that would stop anyone curious enough to get close.

I pulled out my notebook, pretending to take notes. Instead, I wrote a name:

Mikaela L. Rivera

Age: 17

Found: Dead. 7:23 A.M.

Condition: No visible trauma. Drowned. Or made to look like it.

Underneath that, I scribbled a single word in all caps:

WHY?

Because that’s how it always started—with a single question.

Mikaela wasn't the first corpse I’d seen. She wasn’t even the first this year.

But she was the first in this school.

And that meant something.

The predator was getting bolder.