Hearts Academy Ch. 01

Disclaimer and Notes: Disclaimer and Notes: Hearts Academy is an dark horror/mystery story focusing on the reluctant feminization of a young artist. There are many themes such that cause it to be disturbing for those who cannot handle terror or dread well.

This is a sequel to The Rose Diaries. While the characters are brand new, it does reference events and characters from the previous book. However, you can get along perfectly fine without reading the first book. You'll just miss out on a bit of foreshadowing and context.

I hope you do enjoy this chapter if you decide to continue reading. If you do enjoy this chapter, please leave a comment/feedback and let me know!

Thank you.

*****

That evening Dana Morgan was enjoying his favorite home-cooked meal from his childhood. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and heaping helping of comments of inadequacy from his dearest mother. All washed down with veiled threats and for dessert? Dismissal of his true passions and dreams. It was truly a scrumptious meal, one that filled his soul with contempt and frustration and stoked the flames of his anger to keep him warm on even the coldest nights.

He sought refuge in the welcoming embrace of his childhood friends. Of graphite, lead, and charcoal. As he always did on nights such as these. He cut out his piece of serenity on the second floor of his mother's home, a large square room decorated in easels, discarded sketchbooks, and a small bookshelf that served as the headboard for his bed. His bedroom screamed disorder as displaced and disjointed as his mental state currently was.

He sat there staring at his latest piece, a blue-robed figure danced upon the heads of many different colored keys. Far above in the prismatic sky, a keyhole formed from what appeared to be the void of space stared down at him. He didn't know what to call this one, but it was certainly unique.

Dana Morgan fancied himself an artist. But he did not dabble in paints, in chalk, in figures on pages. Instead, he strove to ascend from mere mortal limitations and master the arts themselves. It was an impossible task and one that he knew fairly well would never come to pass. But the flames of his passions were all that kept him sane in the same white-picket fence monotony that was his life. He sought more than just the American Dream. He sought his own dream one that would be filled with splendor and beauty.

It was in this endeavor that he began to post his artwork online in hopes of something, anything, to rescue him from his life. Then the gods answered his prayers in the form of a single strange email. It was simply an invitation to chat and with it an online brochure attached for what appeared to be some sort of learning institution. He couldn't help but balk at the name as he read it aloud.

Hearts Academy.

It was no ordinary institution. Instead, Hearts had a very peculiar modus operandi. It was not a school for learning but instead for exploration. Only the most gifted, talented, and intelligent were allowed to attend the hallowed halls and were given the freedom to explore themselves as artists for several years in a state-of-the-art facility located in French countryside. A massively old and ancient school teeming with history and prestige. But as he showed his mother the brochure, she simply dismissed the notion. No son of hers was going to devote his life to be an artist for there was reason that they were always starving.

Dana's head lay against the cool pillow as he stared up at the blank ceiling. Glow in the dark adhesive stars clung to its surface from days long past. He did not blame his mother for her refusal to let him travel across the world to some unknown place. It seemed like a scam at best and it gave him an immense amount of pause. Yet, as he stared at the email on his phone, he couldn't help but feel drawn to it. Drawn to a life in which he was free to do whatever he pleased. To study, learn, and rub elbows with the truly gifted and like-minded souls. He opened up the ever-changing draft of his response. The first few times had been rejections of their offer but now?

Perhaps it was time for him to take a stand of his own. To seize and wrest control of his own fate from his dismissive mother. His phone began to vibrate in his hand, and he couldn't help but sigh in disappointment as he raised the phone to his ear and answered the call.

"Yes Father?" He huffed slightly as he sat up on the bed.

"How you doing there kiddo?" His father's always cheerful voice answered. His voice barely coming through unhindered by the cacophonous music screaming from his surroundings.

"Same old same old." He sighed again. Dana's father, Albert Morgan, was only truly ever around when he needed something. Dana despised the man for his aloof nature, but he couldn't help but feel he was truly his father's son. If the roles were switched, he too might be traveling with no destination simply fit to enjoy life to the fullest instead of settling down like a responsible adult.

"Come on kid, you can talk to me."

"Dad, no offense, but what do you want?"

"Offense taken." His dad sighed as a particularly loud guitar screamed out from nearby. "Hey! I'm on the phone with my kid! Knock that shit off!"

"Dad-"

"Dana, I know that we don't always see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but I heard about this whole school stuff," His dad sighed deeply as he cleared his throat. "You should go for it."

"Really?" Dana cocked an eyebrow as he leaned up in bed. "You really think so?"

"I was young and stupid when I met your mother. I left my band, Flaming Chariot, you remember those guys? Zeke, Steele, and that one guy I can't remember uhh..." He trailed off.

"Dad!" Dana growled. "What are you trying to say because it seems to me like you're winding up to tell me that I was a mistake."

"Sorry! I got lost in my own thoughts there. Listen, you're a smart, clever, and fucking talented kid. The world's better for having you in it but don't let your mother stifle your creativity. If you want to go to this school, then go. I wish I could've had that chance. Plus, think of all the girlies out there huh? A place like that has got to be crawling with groupies." He rolled his eyes at his father's words and cringed.

"That's fucking disgusting Dad."

"Just telling it how it is, kiddo. You should answer their message and see what happens. After all no good things came to those who just waited, y'know?"

"Thanks Dad." Dana groaned as he flopped back down. "I appreciate the sagely wisdom."

"Ah, there's that witty charm I know and love. Dana, you're going to do great things as long as you follow your heart."

"Dad, I haven't even seen the school. Shouldn't I y'know take a tour?"

"Kid, nothing good ever comes without taking risks. I mean that's how you-"

"DAD COME ON!" Dana groaned. "Sick!" His father burst out into uproarious laughter at his outburst.

"Gotcha!" He chuckled at his own idiotic joke. "Oh, I got to go Dana. Take a chance son and I'm sure you'll be rewarded. Plus, you need to get away from your mother or she's going to strangle all the creativity from you."

"You are a piece of work, Dad." He muttered. "Good luck with whatever you're doing."

"Hey, you're a piece from this piece of work. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye Dad." Dana groaned loudly in frustration as he kicked his legs in anger. He hated his father's attitude about nearly everything in life. It was all just one big game. He was never serious, never sad, never upset. He just ran away from every single problem that he faced. But he couldn't help love his father. Even if he was just the worst.

Before he could change his mind, before he could chicken out, Dana quickly sent his message accepting their offer. A simple two sentence reply.

"I am very interested in attending your academy. What are the next steps that I should take. Regards, Dana Morgan." He read aloud as he turned over to his side. His leg twitched anxiously as he turned over once more. He kept staring at his phone. As if any second, he was going to receive a response and he wanted to be ready for it.

Dana was never a fan of chance. He meticulously overthought things to the point of near obsession. In doing so, he'd formulate these fantastical wonderful plans with multiple tiers and contingencies before it'd all blow up spectacularly in his face. Time and time again even the best laid plans of his would fail to dramatic effect. Perhaps he was unlucky, or he pissed off some spirit and received a curse. He found his nature more fit for a philosopher than an artist. Artists should be easy-going and able to let their muse take them where they need to go. Not freak out over a single brushstroke for ninety minutes and fail their senior art class when they ran out of time on an assignment.

His anxious energy began to overload his fragile brain. With an unsteady hand, he placed his phone on the bookshelf behind him then folded his hands on his chest. He stared back up at the stars for a moment, a single simple moment of bliss before his phone began to vibrate loudly. He groaned as he lazily pawed at the space behind him until his fingers found the source of the disturbance and readied himself for another terrible phone call with his father.

"Hello?" He sighed as he answered the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Morgan. My name is Joy Jolicoeur, I am the student liaison here at Hearts Academy." He jolted upright as he heard the woman's soft voice on the other end of phone. Her accent was unmistakably french and he began to sweat as the anxious buzzing in his mind came back.

"Y-Yes, hello." He cleared his throat. "This is Dana Morgan."

"Mr. Morgan, I have just received your email message and am so very excited that you decided to accept our offer. I'd be more than happy to meet with you if you would like to discuss further details."

"Meet? Aren't you in France?"

"Ah, the wonders of modern travels are astounding, no? I'm in America currently. If you would like I can alleviate any doubts you may have in our academy face-to-face."

"I," He paused to stare blankly ahead. He couldn't believe he was about to listen to his deadbeat of a father. "What if I wanted to confirm my attendance now? To commit to coming to Hearts Academy."

"Are you sure? This is a large decision and should be thought of carefully. Again, I understand if you want to take some time and perhaps chat-"

"No, I've made up my mind. When can I attend?"

"Ha!" She laughed at his declaration. "Oh, that's very bold Mr. Morgan. For most other institutions, you would attend in the end of summer. But as you can tell we are very unorthodox and tend to do things differently. School runs yearly here but we will stick to the normal schedule for your sake. You may move into your new home in the school any time before the end of August."

"That's," He paused as he did the math in his head. "that's in three weeks."

"Funny how fate works, no? I can forward you the more pertinent details as we speak. But just in case you'd rather hear it from me," She paused for a moment. "ah there we are. You will only need to bring what you feel is necessary for your living arrangements. Please do not bring any weapons or drugs of any kind. Exception being prescription drugs filled by a licensed doctor. At Hearts, we provide uniforms for students to wear when on school grounds. You are free to bring sleepwear and outfits for when you are not in class. As per our arrangement, your tuition and room and board will be covered fully by the school. Since you are American and travelling to France, we will arrange to pick you up from the airport and drive you to the school. This, of course, will be free of any charge. Any questions?"

"So, I just have to show up?" He asked as he placed a hand behind his head while he leaned back down to lie flat on the bed.

"That is correct, Mr. Morgan." She said, her voice still cheery and bright. "Your room will be fully furnished. I suggest bringing a few keepsakes and decorative pieces to make it more to your liking. We look forward to meeting you here on campus."

"Thanks? I guess I'll leave immediately?"

"Wonderful, please reach out to us when you finalized your travel plans so we may arrange for things on our end. Have a wonderful evening."

"You as well." He sighed as he hung up. He stared further and further at the stars at the ceiling letting his mind dance with them in the air. Before too long, and still illuminated by his bedroom lights, Dana closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

*****

The sharp creaking sound of his door being thrown open filled the room the following morning. His mother, Christine Morgan, stood dressed in her drab everyday office wear. His mother was a short woman, but she cast an incredibly large shadow. She snapped her fingers and clapped her hands as a groggy Dana turned over to look at her.

"Dana!" She yelled, her long raven black hair going down to her shoulders and her blue eyes consumed with anger. "Wake up!"

"I am up, mother." He groaned as he squinted against the light to further make out her form in absolute detail.

"Do you pay for the electric? Do you?"

"No mother." He groaned once more as he shifted in bed. "Sorry."

"No! You don't! If you're going to fall asleep then you need to turn the lights off, get undressed, and go to bed like a proper adult. If you can't follow these rules, then you need to get out because I will not have a vagrant living in my home."

"Yes mother." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Did you remember to fill out the applications like I asked you to do last week?"

"You asked me to do it three days ago."

"But did you do it?" She hissed.

"I mean, yes but before-"

"Good! There's stamps in my office. Make sure it goes in the mailbox by three o'clock today. I'm going to be running late after work so prepare your own dinner and I'll be in and out of meetings all day so do not call me unless it is an absolute emergency."

"Alright but can I-"

"Clean up your room too. It's like a tornado swept through here and it reeks. When was the last time you showered?"

"Mother!" He yelled. "Can I please talk!"

"I was talking first but sure." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to Syracuse." He barely whispered it. He wasn't afraid of much, but he was terrified of his mother's fury.

"What?"

"I," He swallowed his fears as he took a deep breath. "I don't want to go to Syracuse. I don't want to go to your school."

"It's a good school and we've talked about this. I've got friends in admissions and it's the first step in-"

"I'm not going." His voice was far stronger now. "I'm going to follow my own path."

"Fine. Throw away your entire future, Dana. You're so much like your fucking father it's ridiculous. But what do you plan to do? What is your idea for the future?"

"I spoke to the representative of the art school last night."

"The one in France? The one you have no idea about, no idea who runs it, never seen the campus?"

"Well yes-"

"And how much money do you need to pay?"

"Nothing. My tuition, room, board, and everything is paid by the school."

"And you," She scoffed crossing her arms on her chest. "You don't find that the least bit suspicious?"

"I mean, yes." Dana sighed as leaned up in bed. "But I think it's at least worth a shot."

"Nothing is free in life, Dana. But I can't stop you and I won't try. If you want to attend this obvious scam of a school, then that is your very poor life choice to make."

"Thanks Mother." He groaned. "I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"You better. If you weren't such a brilliant child, I would've thrown you out months ago. I need to go to work like a responsible adult, but you wouldn't know anything about responsibility, would you?"

"Mother-"

"Have a good day, Dana." She called as she slammed the door shut behind her. He placed his head gingerly down on his pillow as he drifted back off to sleep once more.

It was in the afternoon when he opened his eyes again. He was greeted with the sweet songs of birds and the warmth of the bright sun over his body. He yawned and stretched as he sat up from his bed pulling his phone from behind and opening up the web browser. In a few short swipes, he found his way to trip planner and quickly located and purchased a one-way flight from America to Paris, France. He stared blankly at the confirmation screen.

He had really done it. He had really taken the first few steps to forging his own path, to acting in the face of obvious consequence. There was no going back, no retreats, he just had to keep on moving forward. His palms sweat as he emailed Joy Jolicoeur once more.

"I have booked my flight for two days from now. I look forward to seeing the school. Regards, Dana Morgan."

Now all he had to do was wait.

****

His mother didn't say a single word to him when she got home. Nor when he told of her his intentions to leave immediately. She just scoffed, rolled her eyes, and sent him off without a care. He had burned a bridge with his mother in his rash decision to attend the academy. If Dana had returned empty-handed or disappointed with what he found out there, then he knew she would be waiting to rub it in his face. His mother would never let him live it down. Not in a year nor ten. Most likely not until she had given up the ghost and passed from this world still angry at the day that he rebuked her plans and care.

The following morning, he placed two large blue suitcases in the foyer of his childhood home and headed out the door for the few quiet tasks r. In front of his quaint little house on a hill sat a large oak tree that he often played, slept, and thought under. She was an ancient goddess with long outstretched limbs filled with an a near endless amount of green foliage waving tenderly in the slight peaceful breeze. He placed a delicate hand on the rough worn bark and smiled. Then, he reached inside and pulled out a small black leather-bound book.

It was his first journal, his first sketches drawn in the margins of the pages. A warm comforting feeling spread through his heart. The book had seen better days, years of exposing it to the elements had left its marks. The cover was worn, scratched, marked from days long gone. His father had given it to him on his sixth birthday. It was a cheap old thing, but he loved it all the same. He had sworn to his father that he'd never leave the book behind. In a strange way, it was one of his only true friends.

Dana had many friends but never good ones. His life was filled with those who joined him for a few years and then left twice as quickly. The friends he made in school were quick to abandon him when he could not follow them out at night, or rather, chose not to. If inspiration struck, he wanted to be nowhere but in his room so that he could let his passions take him. He was not by any means a social butterfly. But perhaps among the gifted students of Hearts Academy, he could find his own flock.

With this final thing in his hands, he placed his hand on the tree and smiled sadly before returning back to his house for possibly the final time.

He blinked. Or rather, that's how it felt when the days passed so quickly before him. He blinked and he was seated in the back of a black sportscar his mouth agape as a pristine white castle-like structure stretched out before him. The dirt road pulled up and to a large wrought iron gate that swung open without them even needing to stop and shut just as quickly behind.

"We're here, Mr. Morgan." The driver's rough voice echoed from the front of the vehicle.

"It's beautiful." He gasped. "This is a school? It looks more like a castle."

"The Academy is known for its beauty. You should be comfortable here." The man pulled up to the front of the school and he couldn't help but notice the lack of cars. Just a bit of a hill back down into the forest below and the village that they had passed through on their way in was nearly a spec off in the distance. No large parking lot, paved roads, just a simple stone walkway by the massive entrance to the academy. As the car pulled to a stop, Dana couldn't help but to jump at the opportunity to stretch his legs.