#1 in POLITICALDRAMA
In the late forties, six university students find themselves surrounded by killings on campus. They're messengers, relaying information back and forth between a network of professors who supply an intelligence organization.
The...
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The news was circulating campus by the time Hayley arrived for her nine o'clock class. Focused on the warmth of the classroom seeping through her layers, it took her a few seconds to become aware of the conversation taking place at the front of the room.
A man was leaning over the professor's desk, hands planted firmly on the surface, his back to the room. Hayley recognized him as the chair of the history department, someone Edward had taken multiple classes with.
She couldn't hear their words, but they were both grave and speaking softly.
At last, when the clock struck nine, the chair straightened, brushed down his jacket, and left without a second glance to the classroom.
Hayley's professor rose from his desk with a downcast expression, holding a piece of chalk in one hand. When he came around the desk and leaned against it as he usually would, but rather than launching into his lecture on government, he shifted the chalk from hand to hand and stared down at his shoes.
Those unaware of the tension in the room busied themselves with pulling out their notes, but the room swiftly fell back into silence.
"I don't know how many of you heard about the young man who fell ill and died last week." The professor finally spoke, casting his gaze around the room. "This news is deeply unpleasant and sickening, but the university feels that you would all be safest by having awareness; it has been discovered that Gale Smith, now passed, was deliberately poisoned, and the investigation has been reopened."
{ tenebrous }
Everyone knew by lunchtime. A student had been killed, and the responsible party remained at large. The authorities refused to disclose the type of poison used, the circumstances surrounding the death, or the location at which Gale Smith ingested the poison. Few had known of the death in the first place; Gale had been left on the side of the road with no connection to the university and no identification, and therefore his identity had been unreleased for a number of days. When the campus had finally learned of his passing, they'd assumed he'd died of exposure in the storm the week before.
"This explains everything yesterday," Douglas realized, sighing at the horror of the reality. He shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders inward. The meetings, the unusual number of dead drops, the unprecedented amount of information being carried—all of it screamed trouble. If the professors were caught up in trying to figure out the circumstances surrounding the murder, it would be an indication that they knew more about the impending danger of a killer on the prowl than anyone was letting on.
"I just can't imagine what's involved here. What if it was a prank gone wrong? What if it was someone lashing out over personal vengeance? Or was it random? I wouldn't even know how to approach murder by poison." Mary put her chin in her hands contemplatively. They had never dealt with something so close to home before. They had never been so closely involved to an investigation, or delivering information that could mean a difference in their personal lives. It was a strange and uncomfortable realization to work with.
