Episode - 1

The morning came with soft sunlight spilling through the dorm window. Dust floated lazily in the golden light — peaceful, quiet, holy.

Then — BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

“Ahhh!” Clara groaned, slamming the alarm. “This stupid thing is possessed…”

She glanced to her right. Kathy — her chaos-loving best friend, the eternal sleeper — was snoring softly, smiling like she was dreaming about chocolate cake or eternal salvation.

“Hey! Wake up! Wake up!” Clara hissed, shaking her shoulder. “How can you sleep like this? It’s—” she squinted at the clock, “—oh my God, it’s 7:11! Sister Mary is going to kill us!”

Kathy cracked one eye open. “Just… two more minutes…” she mumbled, pouting like a sleepy toddler.

Clara smirked. “Oh really? Sure. Enjoy your last two minutes of life.”

That did it. Kathy shot up like she’d seen a ghost. “Wait—WHAT?! 7:11?! You lied!”

Clara grinned. “Nope. I just saved your soul.”

They threw on their uniforms, half-buttoned and uneven, hair a disaster, shoes mismatched. Kathy tried to braid Clara’s hair while hopping on one foot. Clara swatted her away. “Focus on your own head before you look like a blessed tornado.”

“Too late,” Kathy said, examining herself in the mirror. “I was born stylishly chaotic.”

At the Church

The morning prayer had already begun, soft organ music echoing through the great hall. The nuns led the verses; the students knelt in perfect lines, eyes closed, serene and saintly.

All… except two late sinners sprinting down the corridor.

Clara and Kathy slid through the side doors, nearly crashing into the holy water stand. They froze, straightened their skirts, and tiptoed to the back pew.

Sister Mary turned her head, eyes like daggers from heaven.

Clara offered a trembling smile. Kathy attempted a wave, instantly regretted it.

The nun said nothing — thank the Lord for silent fury — but her glare promised divine punishment later.

The girls knelt and bowed their heads, whispering fake prayers. “Dear Lord,” Kathy murmured, “please forgive us… again.”

“Shh,” Clara hissed, but she was fighting a laugh.

A few minutes later, Kathy yawned. Clara’s eyelids drooped dangerously.

Then — a deep rumble broke through the music.

A car engine.

Through the tall window, a black SUV rolled to a stop outside the church gates. It gleamed under the morning sun — sleek, expensive, and completely out of place.

The door opened slowly.

Out stepped a man. Tall, broad shoulders, dark messy hair falling across his forehead. Tattoos traced up his neck like hidden stories. Black shirt, black jeans — a walking sin in broad daylight.

Clara froze.

He looked up. Their eyes met through the glass.

He smirked — slow, confident, dangerous.

Both girls turned crimson.

Kathy leaned closer. “Did he just smile at me?”

Clara rolled her eyes. “You idiot, that was a smirk.”

Kathy gasped. “Idiot?!”

Clara quickly made the sign of the cross. “There. Holy again. Happy now?”

Kathy grinned. “Holy enough for me.”

The prayer ended, but Clara’s heart hadn’t slowed. Something about that man — his eyes, the way he looked right at her — felt like a warning wrapped in a thrill.

She pressed her palms together and whispered a final prayer.

She wasn’t sure if it was to ask for forgiveness… or protection.

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