Blackwood Campus Novels & Stories

she smiles. “No, no. I think something much friendlier would be better. Blackwood is a little dark.” I shrug at her stern look. “I’ll think of something.” “Okay, but don’t take too long. Once those plans are in and approved, they will construct the building before you know it.” “How are you doing?” She asks while taking a seat. “I’m good.” “I heard a rumour….” Jen trails off with a wink. I sit back. “Oh yeah? What did you hear?”

He took Shaw Woods Road, winding his way through a deep and heavily forested area named after one of the original village’s stalwart founding fathers. Blackwater Valley was actually part of the Rock River Valley, the so-christened Rock having dug its own mighty course directly through this prairie region, twisting and flowing southwesterly for 150-some miles before emptying into the fabled Mississippi River. The small town lay nestled within a slight lowland depression—as if hiding here in the middle of the heartland amongst the rolling hills and fields of corn—which often kept it slightly cooler, in both winter and in summer, than any of its outlying environs. Farther south were farming ham

The two of us hopped out of my car and began walking toward the building where Professor Black's office was. The campus had an eerie feeling to it. It was surrounded by tall oak trees that would've sheltered us from the sun's rays had they not been all dead. I guessed the leaves were all gone because of the cold we had just experienced. All of the buildings were brick and the sidewalks were all made of cobblestone. "How old is this school?" I asked Lucas as we walked quietly. "Old," Lucas said, and that was enough answer for me. "I bet it's haunted."

I asked when we were standing around the table. “I trust you’re familiar with the Blackwood Foundation, Mr. Cal?” Gia began, pausing briefly as a server approached with drinks. I nodded, signaling her to continue. “Blackwood Foundation is the primary catalyst, providing substantial funding and networks for educational projects like this. LS Education Foundation, on the other hand? They’re the ones with the innovative ideas.”

"What kind of information?" "The kind that shows a pattern of escalating violence surrounding this student. The kind that proves the school's neutrality has been permanently compromised." I shuffle through the materials Lord Ravenscrest provided. "Tell me, Mr. Blackwood, what do you think will happen to your family's legacy when the supernatural community realizes that Blackwood Academy has been harboring someone who's directly responsible for multiple deaths?" "That's... that's a serious accusation."

“Please don’t.” “No, listen. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but if we’re going, we should at least know what we’re walking into. I’ve heard things—from some of the fourth-years who went last year. They say the Blackwood Estate is like something out of a storybook. Huge, old, enchanted in places. Like—it’s not just rich, it’s magical.” I groaned and shoved the pillow harder against my ears. “I said don’t.”

“There used to be, it was the site of the old research facility, before the council shut it down after the fire. No one goes there now.” Jace tapped his fingers against the table slowly. “Unless Blackwood knows something we don’t.” The table went silent for a minute. Jace's eyes then widened with a cold realization. “He’s not attacking because he’s building something.” Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “Or waiting for something.”

Instead, I nodded, silently urging him to continue. He paced a slow circle, hands shoved deep into his pockets, the tension radiating from him like heat. “Blackwood Enterprises is under attack. Competitors, media, even insiders… They’re trying to take me down. And if they find out about us, about you, it’ll be the perfect leverage.” The weight of his words hit me harder than I expected. I had known Dominic’s world was complicated, but this was another level entirely. I wasn’t sure I was ready to be part of it.

The drive down to the venue took about an hour, and that gave me more than enough time to familiarize myself with the issues that needed sorting out. Soon we arrived at the Blackwood estate. It wasn’t owned by any syndicate. Rather, it belonged to a centuries-old arbitration council trusted by every major crime family. The estate sat on the highest hill overlooking the city, hidden behind wrought-iron gates and centuries-old oak trees. To anyone passing by, it looked like nothing more than an old mansion preserved for the wealthy. But only a few knew it had hosted peace talks, fragile alliances, and declarations of war long before most of the city’s skyscrapers were ever built.