damon torrance

Thunder Bay High School was bigger than she'd imagined—and infinitely more imposing. The ancient stone walls seemed to hold back not only the northern chill in its halls, but also the echoes of something even darker. Something that lurked behind crisply pressed uniforms and overly ostentatious smiles.

She clutched her backpack tightly as she crossed the central courtyard. She was trying to appear confident, invisible, anything to keep her off the radar. But she didn't stand a chance.

They were already there.

The Four Horsemen.

It was as if the world around them had learned to adapt to their presence—opening paths, averting glances, silencing conversations. It was impossible not to notice. All eyes seemed to turn toward them, even though they pretended otherwise.

One of them had hair as white as gold, another moved with the lazy elegance of someone who knew the whole school revolved around his smile. The third had a calculating, cutting gaze, as if he could read weaknesses instead of faces.

But it was the fourth one who captivated her.

Damon Torrance.

He walked a little ahead, as if belonging were second nature. Tall, pale, with eyes so dark they seemed made of smoke. He wore an open black blazer, a loose tie, and that relaxed posture that concealed something violent beneath the surface. He didn't smile—he didn't need to. His silence was magnetic, unsettling. An absence of noise that made everything around him seem amplified.

She couldn't look away.

As he walked past her, their eyes met. Just for a second. But it was enough.

There was something in that look. A recognition that made no sense. As if he had marked her—not for what she was, but for what she could become.

He continued walking, without saying a word. And yet, she felt as if she had just made a silent pact with the devil himself.