Chaotic Academia Novels & Stories

Silence fell between them, broken only by the distant pounding on the library doors. Kael let out a low, broken laugh. “Three bloods. A wolf, a leech, and a spell-slinger. What the hell kind of joke is the universe playing?” Damien’s crimson eyes met Kael’s. “Not a joke. A convergence. The ley lines under this campus have been humming since the first bite. I felt it in the lab. Our kinds have never worked together like this before. Not willingly.” Serena wiped her face and stood, walking over to a nearby shelf. She pulled an ancient leather-bound book titled Nexus Prophecies and flipped it open with shaking hands. Glowing runes responded to her touch.

“I’ve contacted someone at Academy to help figure out what’s wrong with your powers.” “Really?” My heart races with excitement. “Does that mean my powers will be unbound soon?” “Yes, with luck. Soon your wolf will be back,” she replies. “And Academy...” I remember Hera telling me that Sheila was Academy’s youngest Head Herbalist. “Can you tell me more about Academy?” “Academy is a research institution, like a werewolf university. The best werewolves from Europe and even the world gather there to study. They also conduct various research programs.”

“He is at the bottom of the well, where I should have sent you. I will not make the same mistake this night. Come out! Let me in!” “Miranda! Was he wearing his Guardian’s Artifact? “Of course he was, even called out for him. Curral never came. He would never face me. Not for that. Curral Understands. They all need to understand. Sacha needs to understand!” “Understand what?” “That you are being betrayed, and so you betray me! There needs to be a new order. The old one will fall. Let me take you before then. Sacha will understand.” “Help me understand.”

"Don't go down the rabbit hole searching for anything else he's written. He wouldn't want you wallowing." "I can't decide if it would be dumb to ask him for help or pathetic not to ask him." "With your dissertation?" "Writing papers, even science papers, has never been my strength." "You're worried?" "It's going to be published in the Werewolf Academy Journals and peer-reviewed." The Academy's standards weren't the same as Northfall's, but there was a chance that my research would be circulated in the same pools as Eason's. "I can't look… like an idiot who spent half a decade as a housewife."

************************* This story is about Student and Teacher relationship. Synopsis A Professor named John Gatchalian is secretly obsessed with his student named Myraquel Gonzaga. Prof. John intentionally dropped Myraquel grades. The only way she can pass and graduate is to have sex with her Professor.

“A live cultural event: the inauguration of the first ‘Demi-Perez Chair of Anti-Narrative Studies’ at the University of Lyric. They’re unveiling the curriculum. It’s… extensive.” Lina, who was attempting to manifest a more comfortable chair and currently had one that kept squeaking like a tortured dolphin, groaned. “A chair? In my name? For anti-narrative? Mom, they’ve made you the patron saint of boring.” “I prefer ‘defender against existential comprehension,’” I grumbled, watching the feed from Lyric. A solemn academic procession was marching towards a podium. The head professor, a being of floating geometric shapes, was preparing to speak.

Vincenzo turned the following pages, his eyes scanning each line with growing unrest, as if searching for coherence within the absurd. Nothing made sense, and as though the existing problems were not enough, new secrets surfaced, adding weight to the fragile balance he was still struggling to maintain. “Cazzo,” Vincenzo muttered, releasing a heavy breath thick with disbelief. For a moment, he ran his hands over his face, as if he could erase what he had just read, wondering what else could possibly happen to drag the chaos into something even worse.

My hands were shaking against the steering wheel, and my reflection in the rearview mirror confirmed that I looked completely unhinged. I threw the car into reverse, hitting the gas and tearing down the driveway toward the campus. I needed the structured, sterile environment of a university lecture hall, and I needed it immediately, because three weeks of planning had officially backfired. I was supposed to be the one unraveling Damian, but right now, my own subconscious mind was doing a flawless job of unraveling me.

I try to assure him, but I’m also internally reckoning with what the next few days will look like. But days pass, and the campus’s electric pulse returns like nothing happened–just like after Laney’s death. I get it, I guess. Academia and the thrill of the chase of academic prowess suck everyone here into its orbit, making everything else matter far less than I suppose it should. Alex, however, is either totally unreachable or standing mere feet away from me at all times. It’s a strange dance, and his frustration and unease send my senses into a riot I haven’t been able to calm.

Fuck. I'm late. Again. The curse is barely out of my mouth before I’m sprinting through the dark, deserted hallways of the academy, legs pumping as I race across campus. My short black skirt rides up with every stride, teasing the cold air against my thighs. The strap of my bag digs into my shoulder, the heavy contents bouncing wildly with every jarring step. My chest heaves. My pulse roars in my ears.