Hunted Heir: (Santorin University Book

1) K.J. Thomas
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Hunted Heir
SANTORIN UNIVERSITY BOOK ONE

K.J. THOMAS
Copyright © 2024 by K.J. Thomas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.

Editor: Samantha Wiley

Proofreader: Rachel

Cover Art:
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Cover Design: K.J. Thomas
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 Contents
Also by K.J. Thomas
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26

Acknowledgments
Also by K.J. Thomas
Blackwood Academy
Hiding From Monsters
Running From Monsters
Taming the Monster
Moretti Siblings
Twisted Obsession
Cruel Obsession
The Hunted
Entangled by Him
Stoneridge Academy
Hate Me
Fear Me
Break Me
Release Me
Santorin University
Hunter Heir
Standalone
King’s Playground
 Chapter
One

T aylor
The old metal door looms decrepit and proud of its latest
conquest, reputedly trapping me inside. With practiced, irritated
steps, I use my foot to turn the rusted old door handle. As soon as I
hear the welcoming click, I ungraciously use my hip, constantly
bumping on the metal frame, trying to get it open. The back-and-
forth motion looks like I’m in a dance off, horribly losing.
My mind is everywhere else instead of where it should be,
concentrating on all the shit I’m carrying. I refuse to make multiple
trips, especially if I only suffer for less than a minute with heavy
arms and hands.
I laugh in cryptic glee as soon as the metal beast gives way,
causing me to stumble outside. If my hands where free, I’d flip that
bitch off. Instead, I chuckle, happy to be outside. Unfortunately, I
endure this dance several times a week.
I look up, my feet suddenly are laden with cement, unable to
move. The jerking motion causes a few of the gloves and pads to
easily fall out of my crowded ensemble.
In front of my parents’ boxing gym are three black Escalades,
proudly manned by their own suitor. The driver or guard keeping
watch, proudly next to their own personal vehicle. It’s very late,
darkness swallows the gym whole. We’re open till ten every night.
The moonlight makes them shine, encapsulating them in money and
prestige. Something that does not belong in this part of Queens,
New York. The only time we get this type of visitor is when the
bankers come, or the gangs are looking for someone.
I haven’t moved, standing still on the street holding too much
boxing shit. My attention is glued on the men in tailored suits,
entranced by what this can mean. Who are these people? If I stare
long enough, maybe the universe will answer my questions.
Something hard hits me right in the middle of my back, causing
my cemented feet to jerk forward. I barely catch myself before I fall,
unfortunately all the contents spill out of my hands.
“Stupid girl,” is the only thing I hear as Mr. Chang growls his
distaste, walking by me as he closes up his little corner store for the
night.
“Sorry, have a good night,” I mumble, trying to wave goodbye
with my right hand but it looks awkward. Mr. Chang only knows
three words in English and I’m pretty sure of this, because that’s all
I’ve heard since I was a kid living here, it’s either; stupid girl or idiot.
Mr. Chang’s wife died ten years ago. Occasionally my mom would
have me bring food to him, or make sure he was still alive by visiting
his store often.
With my trance broken, I gather up the gloves and pads and
throw them in the door leading into the boxing club. This shit is
money, and I refuse to leave it out on the street, even though I’m
desperate to see who’s here. The rest of the street is dark and Mr.
Chang has gone home. We’re the only place that’s open. Maybe
some rich people wanted to try out a lower end boxing ring, see if
they could hang. I smile walking in the club, stepping over the
forgotten gloves and pads. I’ll deal with the equipment later, eager
to see.
I work on fixing my tight tank top that is starting to drift to the
side, then straightening my very loose pair of boxing shorts. It’s the
middle of August here, not as hot as it normally is at night. The air
conditioning is humming as several of the fans circulate the overtly
hot air through the boxing club.
Right when I round the corner, that’s when I get an eerie
sensation. The place is dead silent, except the noise from the fans
and AC.
 We usually have between ten to twenty people in the club
always, with a lot more during the busier times. Not one person is
working out or sparring. Doing what they need to do to improve
themselves, all of them are focused on my dad’s office.
My father’s office is small and shoved into the corner of the gym.
The blinds are closed. The only way we see a glimpse, maybe even
a glimmer of who’s in there, will come from the uncovered window
on his door.
I walk my way through the eerie gym. The members nod at me
with reassuring shoulder grabs, or pats on the back. Ignoring specks
of blood and spit during an earlier fight that missed the bucket
completely.
I started putting the buckets out months ago. So much easier to
clean the buckets than the floor twenty times a day. Nobody can
properly spit anywhere. There’s a lot of blood and other bodily fluids
that make their way through this old-school gym.
I stop, standing next to a few of the old-timers that are staring
intently at one of the most beautiful and classy women I’ve ever
seen. My dad’s back is toward us. She’s facing my dad with rapt
attention, very inclined and focused on what he’s talking about.
My father is moving his arms left and right, dialogue is raptly
flowing from him. I can’t help it, my shoulders tense up, there is no
reason for that woman to be here. This is our family’s livelihood. My
parents have been through so much. I’m afraid that anything else
will break them.
My mom and dad have owned this club since I was little. We
barely got by sometimes, especially in the beginning but it’s enough.
They made their dream work. Both of them have never been
happier, at least that’s what they tell me.
I ignore some of the stifling heat from the delayed air as I sigh,
severely interested in what that fancy woman is telling him. The
scent of blood and sweat is permanent in the air, even air fresheners
conveniently placed throughout the gym can’t get rid of this.
We’ve never had anyone that looks like that here. The last time
someone came in with the crappy secondhand store suit, they were
from the bank threatening to put my dad on his ass right then and
there. Luckily all the boxers in the building weren’t having it.
I know that’s why all the guys are concerned. We have a few
women that are in this club, but none of them are here right now.
Several older, long-standing members are now at my side watching
and waiting with anticipation, worried about what will happen to
their club they’ve been going to forever. The ones that aren’t right
by me are standing alert and ready throughout the room. The bags
are occupied, the ring is occupied. An area we have dedicated for
sparring is occupied, but all unused.
My father looks up slightly smiling, replacing it quickly with his
permanent stoic face seeing all of his guys surrounding his daughter.
“Relax kid,” Mac says to me. Gripping my shoulder tightly and
giving it a little bit of a squeeze in comfort. I’m twenty-two years
old. My birthday was a couple weeks ago at the beginning of August,
but apparently in this club if you’re under sixty, you’re a kid.
Mac stands next to me, shoulder to shoulder as we continue to
watch my father. Those two have been friends as far back as I can
remember.
My father glances back toward us, and motions for me to come
into the office with him.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” one of the older guys assures me
as I walk by. It seems like the woman’s here for me, so at least the
boxing club is safe.
Several of the guys get back to practicing with the heavy bags or
ring training. They know that the club is safe, they can feel it in their
bones. Several others give me reassuring head nods.
Do I look that terrified?
I go into the jail sized office that my father has. The room is
horrendously small and there’s a window the size of a book at the
far end of the room. My father has painted all the windows inside
this building. We don’t live in the best neighborhood, so he wants
this area separate from outside. Concentration is key, members
should only focus on why they’re here.
I take the desk chair my dad is standing next to. Blocking the
already blacked-out window.
 The fancy woman moves a step closer to me and offers her
hand. “My name is Ms. X.” I take it. “Taylor, have you ever heard of
Santorin University?” She asks as she sits down, crossing one leg
over the other and looking more exquisite than she already does.
She’s a bit younger than my mom but she is one of the most
classically beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Flowing brown hair,
glistening blue eyes, all on a thin frame wearing a pinstripe suit that
doesn’t have a wrinkle or a piece of lint on it.
“Yeah?” I say with a smile but it comes out a little bit
sarcastically. Like who hasn’t heard of Santorin University?
Everybody has, it’s the freaking Ivy of all Ivy League schools.
I watch her with rapt attention. You could hear a pin drop as the
woman classically grabs her leather bag off the floor and takes out a
folder with paperwork, and several clothing items. I glance over to
my father, his eyes are slightly wide, looking at the shit in her hands.
He’s shocked but is also very wary. He’s having trouble masking his
expressions, which is unheard of with him.
Ms. X gives me a very sweet and comforting smile. “Ms. Quinn,
you have won a scholarship to Santorin University for your senior
year of college.” She starts talking, conversing to both my father and
me. Sadly, the only thing I hear is ‘what the hell,’ screaming in my
head. This has to be a joke? Right?
Santorin University is one of those colleges that only the elite of
the elite get into. There is no application process, nothing. If you’re
going to be a student at the school, you’re going to get an invitation,
that’s the only way.
Don’t get me wrong, my mouth is still slightly open in shock. I’m
not academically inclined. I went to community college for the first
two years, then switched over to the State College for my junior
year. I didn’t get straight As. I’m not some major sports god. Most
people can see, as this woman can probably tell now, that my
parents are not loaded.
This honestly makes no sense whatsoever. I don’t pay that much
attention, with my mind racing as I watch my dad shake Ms. X’s
hand. She gives me a smile and a nod as she leaves through the
door that I just entered through. All the guys are watching,
wondering why she was here. She’s a beautiful enigma.
My father moves closer to me rubbing my shoulders up and down
as I stand up. “Eyes open.”
I nod. “Always.”
He’s just as perturbed by this whole situation as I am. I know he
loves me and he wants everything for me, but come on, we’re not
stupid. There’s no reason I would get into this school, everything
sounds fishy. So yeah, I’m definitely going to keep my eyes open,
always.
We spend the next hour in complete silence cleaning up and
getting the gym ready for whoever wants to grace their presence
here tomorrow morning. Some people actually use this place just for
exercise, but since our clientele is older, it doesn’t last that long.
“Ready?” My father asks me getting all the paperwork and the
clothing items Ms. X had left, gathering them in his arms. I nod,
drying off my hands after washing them. I always disinfect, there’s
so much bodily fluids on everything in this gym, it’s downright gross.
But it’s home and I love this place.
Both my father and I head out of the doors, then turn a sharp
right to another door facing the street that leads up to our
apartment. No words are said as we trudge up heading straight for
the kitchen area where my mom has dinner ready and waiting.
Sometimes we’re able to sneak up for dinner earlier, but the
place was packed tonight.
My mother quickly glances between my father and me, her
expression seems as worried and vaguely confident as my dad’s
does. I love them so much because they try to make the situation
happy no matter how daunting it is.
We eat in silence. There’s no reason to talk, my dad was in his
office for a while. I know he called mom and explained everything to
her.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she says as both my dad and I, cover our
stuffed with spaghetti mouths, laugh. She rips open the paperwork
and starts going through it. Her mouth forming a big ‘O’ through the
entire reading process.
 My mom looks up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You
leave on Friday morning, that’s two days away.” I nod, my father had
mentioned it to me before. I could wait and go Sunday, but this way
I’ll get settled and can explore.
My father smiles as he grabs each one of our hands. In our small
apartment, there’s a tiny kitchen table that fits three people
perfectly.
“Taylor deserves this. This is her time to shine, and for some
reason the best school in the country wants our daughter, then so be
it.” He squeezes her hands for emphasis. “We can’t let our past
dictate our future anymore, not everything that happens is going to
be bad.” He lets go of my mom’s hand and covers mine with his.
“Enjoy this moment in life, we might not know the answer right now,
but as your parents we know that this is your moment to shine.”
I start to cry as the three of us head up to my room, seeing
what’s worthwhile to pack. I’m grateful for my mom. If I was on my
own at State, which I’m supposed to be going back to, my laundry
would be piling up. Because of her, everything is clean except for
these raggedy gym clothes I’ve been wearing all day.
My father comes back with an envelope in hand. They think they
keep stuff from me, but I know exactly where their stash is and how
much they have in it. Very rarely, but when I do have extra, I try to
add a twenty every now and then.
I shake my head no, as my mom puts her arm around me
squeezing me to her side. “It’s five hundred dollars, you’ll be a few
hours away from us, and who knows what could happen. This
money will help us to sleep better at night. Please just do this for us
so that we know you’re safe.”
I nod, blinking rapidly, trying to lose the tears that are
threatening to break free.
I will always be grateful for these two. For everything that
they’ve ever done for me. I just pray to God that one day I can
rightfully repay them.
 Chapter
Two

R eaper
Boston has always been my favorite place to play when I was in
my early twenties. The nightclubs were freaking insane.
“Drop me off in the back,” I say sharply to Remy, discouraging
him from giving me a reply. It does the trick as he slants his
eyebrows, but not arguing.
My moment was very short-lived when he hisses out, “it won’t
hurt you to relax for a minute. Spend an hour in there. Have a few
drinks, shake that ass. We both know you could use it.”
I growl, “twenty minutes, fucker.” I slip out of the vehicle,
slamming the door behind me. This SUV is Remy’s baby. If I could’ve
slammed it any harder I would’ve. I hear him slightly scream,
erasing the smirk off my face getting closer to the club.
I’ll admit it does draw me in. The ambiance surrounded by the
darkness outside. The lights are barely lit but enough for women to
feel safe.
I turn to go into the alley, where Remy couldn’t fit the car. The
club made it this way. There are two huge trash cans blocking half of
the exits on either side of the alleyway. This is far safer for the club
and the inhabitants inside.
I keep my mind and thoughts open as I continue to walk through
the alley. I hear rats and insects milling about but no other human
voices. It smells of rotten eggs and multiple drunks slowly pursuing
their deaths.
 I’m wearing all black. My tailored suit is a skin hugging silk that
set me back fifteen grand. With my loafers, I’m ready to blend in to
the darkness of this intriguing club. I can tell why it’s the most
popular one in Boston.
I knock twice on the back door just as I was told to do. It swings
outward in a rush. The bouncer manning the area looks like he’s
going to rip me a new one, before he sees the wad of cash in my
hand. One grand to get me into the back door unnoticed, was the
deal.
The guy gives me a nod, looking down the alley both ways as he
grabs the money and moves back to let me in. No words need to be
said or exchanged. This man keeps his distance and his eyes
adverted.
I’ve been told more than once that I’m compared to nightmares.
The things parents tell their rambunctious children to get them to be
obedient and go to bed at night. I’m faceless. Nameless. I am
deadly, dangerous, a nightmare, I am the Reaper.
This job was predominantly on the lower end of the pay scale,
but I still agreed to do it. “Hey baby,” is purred in my direction. I
walked by a group of very drunk women, not bad looking, either. I
angle myself back, out of the way. I don’t appreciate being grabbed
or touched. I give them a nod and keep moving.
The woman I’m looking for is a fucking cunt. I growl as I walk
through, letting everybody know I’m not interested, it works. She
earns her money by sleeping around and then when her victims are
coming down from a euphoric high and not watching, not caring
because you finally got yourself a piece of the pie, she fucking drains
everything, then she’s gone.
The music starts to bump, the lyrics are low as the bass takes
over. It’s very inviting to let loose, if only for a half an hour.
Several victims have put whatever resources they could find
together and hired me. The way this woman, a gorgeous blonde
bombshell, looks, I’m not shocked to see all the damage she’s done.
I’m in work mode, I no longer look inviting. The expression I
have plastered on my face is to stay the fuck away. Men know to do
this, unless they’re looking for a quick fight. I’ll win.
 I even researched the owner of this new club to make sure he
wasn’t a problem, he isn’t. I’ve seen him around, walking, he notices
me out of the corner of his eye but he leaves me alone and I ignore
him. I’ve never met one club owner that’s decent.
I usually get at least one dick-bag, a douche that wants to take
on the bigger guy. To prove some shit, even if he gets his ass kicked.
The next morning he can spit, ‘at least my drunk ass tried.’ Everyone
wants to see if they can outshine the fucking Reaper.
My dick stands to attention as a woman flows right in front of
me. Delicate, surreal and absolutely breathtaking, the way she
sashays her hips has my dick jumping for joy. I maneuver away,
barely stopping from knocking her over.
She smiles, moving closer to me, moving her hips and before I
know it, she’s wrapped around me, dancing. Remy would be howling
with delight if he saw me right now. This woman has got some
fucking moves. Maybe I do need this, to relax.
I yank her body to mine, her soft, silky curves that press into me
feel so god damn fucking good. It won’t hurt just for a few minutes.
Neither one of us saying anything.
My leg wedges in between hers, rubbing against her in tune with
the beat. I have no clue who’s even singing but it’s catchy.
“Fuck,” I growl to myself as I back off, giving her a wink and
shaking my head no. The woman knows I’m trying to leave. I am
here to work.
“Not yet,” she purrs. Her voice is intoxicating, sweet like honey.
This bitch grabs my arm and drags me down the hall to an area that
has more standalone bathrooms.
Work can wait for a few minutes, I agree with myself as I watch
her voluptuous ass move in front of me. I have blueprints of this
joint. I like to know where everything is, I know exactly where she’s
going. I see no problem with a small break.
I watch her ass, tight and ripe, glide in this silk dress that she’s
wearing. I’m not the only one that watches, several clubbers,
especially men, can’t take their eyes off of her. They’ll be doing what
I’m about to do, whacking off to her image, but at least I get the
real thing.
 She bypasses the standalone bathrooms and opens a door into a
small storage closet. Most likely for the janitor or the cleaning crew.
A light is flicked on in the corner. But I don’t give her much of a
chance as I grab her and slam her against the wall. With little effort,
lifting her body up at the same time, I’m able to get my dick out of
my slacks, and slap on a condom within fucking seconds. I’ve
mastered this fucking issue over the years.
I check to see how ready she is as I jab my hand between her
legs, finding the very thin material of her panties. The girl is fucking
soaked.
I line my engorged dick up perfectly and slam all the way in. She
cries out and then moans, maneuvering her hips back and forth. Her
arms are placed above her head as she grabs onto her hair, keeping
her arms up. I rip off the flimsy silk that’s covering her breasts.
She screeches with wide open eyes, getting ready to say
something but I don’t give her a chance as I start bucking into her,
fucking whatever she has to say right out of her mouth.
I slow my movements down and pull down the cups of her bra
that’s holding her delectable tits in place. These beauties aren’t
natural but who cares, they’re still fucking bitable. Which is what I
do as I pump hard and slow down, rotating my hips taking turns in
between each breast tasting, biting, and licking.
It doesn’t take long until she plateaus. She sings a melody and
whimpers, classical as her pussy grips the ever loving fucking shit
out of my dick.
I tremble as a chill runs through me. Smacking me upside the
head as I pull out. Making sure she’s steady on her feet before I flip
her around. Giving her no choice as I bend her over. Putting her
hands flat against the wall her back was previously against. It looks
like I’m frisking her, but with her ass in the air.
I fuck her harder and faster, she screams in delight as I grunt,
finding my happy ending. Doesn’t take long until I release, coming
hard into her. I wasted too much time to properly get laid like this.
Several seconds pass. I don’t move, savoring every damn feeling
traveling through me.
 I quickly fix my pants and the rest of my suit as I stand back up,
using a handkerchief left in my coat pocket to place the used
condom in, before putting it back into my pocket.
She turns around, her skin is flushed. Her smile is wide and her
legs and arms are fluid.
She looks up at me smiling, until she spots the expression on my
face, one of hatred.
Before she can dislodge the scream that’s been building up in the
past second, I wrap both my hands around her throat, squeezing
and cutting off her air supply, also cutting off her pleas for help.
Choking her will take too damn fucking long. I ignore the scared
and terrified look pooling in her eyes as I effortlessly flip her back
around. This gives me a better advantage as I sharply twist her
neck, snapping the life right out of her.
The fear that intwines with every moment in your life comes out
at the last-second and hers was huge. She realized how much she
fucked up.
If I’m ever asked, I will admit that this bitch could fuck.
At least now she can’t fucking steal from anyone else. No other
person in this world will be a victim. I casually clean up and leave
out the back door. Still shaking my fucking head. I did not expect to
go that far. But Remy was right. I desperately needed to let loose.
I sent a text to the asshole to pick me up at the mouth of the
alley. No one can see me, even the guard wasn’t manning the door
anymore. I was never fucking here, and no one will say otherwise.
My job is fucking done.
 Chapter
Three

T aylor
My father comes to a screeching stop in front of the most
beautiful college I’ve ever seen. I ignore several of the looks from
students as they glare at our loud, older silver truck.
Santorin University looks like several Victorian-style older
buildings have been merged together to create this forbidden
college. It’s ominous and dark but it’s also breathtaking. At least
there’s no gargoyles on the top that might suddenly fall on me.
I step out of the back seat of my dad’s old truck. It’s only ten
years old and he bought it brand new. Looking toward where my
father’s standing and looking at all the other cars that are driving up,
he doesn’t match the limousines, Bentleys, and he knows this. A lot
of the students are driving themselves in Maserati’s, and I’ve spotted
six Lambos, it’s fucking insane. Why the hell does a student going to
college need this type of showcase car? Because they can.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” my mom says as she
moves next to me, wrapping her arm around me, pulling me to her
side in comfort. I love when she does that. She realizes at the same
time I do, I’m way out of my league here.
“I’m good, I’ll be fine,” I say as I move into her and give her a
big hug, not caring about all the people distastefully watching us.
Most of the new students are waving their parents off, not wanting
any of their emotional hugs before they leave their homes for good.
I see the pain that radiates through all of them but mostly on my
mom’s face. “I’ve got this. It’s gonna be awesome and I’m really
excited.” I plaster on my best fake smile, which has worked before. I
hope it works now.
All of us grab a piece of my luggage. I don’t have that much, two
smaller suitcases and a backpack, as we head into the administration
office. It’s cold out right now, even though it’s the freaking middle of
August in New York. It’s the chilly kind of rain that sprinkles, misty
with fog stationed everywhere. I’m thankful that I did check the
weather and I decided to wear jeans, a white T-shirt, a brown
cardigan and my comfy running shoes.
In the back of my mind, I wish I would’ve had more time to
research this school. In hindsight, why would I? It’s elusive, and way
out of my reach.
My parents stop outside of the admin office and put down my
suitcases. I’d rather do this out here instead of going inside with
other people. I freaking hate goodbyes.
I wrap myself around my mom, who buries her head in my
shoulder and weeps silently. She’s the type that doesn’t want to grab
attention to us but I know this is heartbreaking for her. “I love you,
I’ll be fine,” I whisper in her ear as she pulls away and goes and sits
in the car. She’s always hated goodbyes, who doesn’t?
My dad pulls me in for one of his huge bear hugs. My eyes start
to fill up with unshed tears as I wrap myself around him. My father
and I have always really been close, he’s my safety net. I love my
parents to death but I don’t know what I would do without my
father.
He angles back so he can get a good look at my streaked-lined
face. “Eyes open,” he states as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the
wetness from my face.
“Always,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster but it
comes out as a whimper and barely recognizable. It feels
heartbreaking, like I’m losing my parents.
“You got this kid,” my father says to me as he turns his back and
walks back to the car to comfort my mother.
I pat my eyes dry then turn and walk into the admin building,
letting the excitement of the situation overwhelm my tears and heart
wrenching sorrow.
The admin building looks like any other admin building at a
college campuses, even high schools, the ones I’ve seen anyway.
Several people are manning the front. The bigwigs are in the offices
in the back. At least this one is loaded with the façade of centuries
past. Victorian style looking bricks for the interior and wood
throughout.
“Taylor,” my name is called from a girl that looks my age who is
walking toward me in a stunning pinstripe business suit and four-
inch heels. Holy shit this girl can pull it off, she’s stunning. “Hi, I’m
Eden.” She holds out a very well-manicured hand, that I promptly
accept. “How fun, your first day here.” She’s a lot more energetic
than I am but it’s rubbing off.
We step outside of the administration building and I reach for my
luggage.
Eden shakes her head and lightly chuckles as she prints my name
on three little tags and then quickly adheres them to my luggage.
“Girl, believe it or not, they actually have what you would call bell
boys in the school, at least for the first week.” She nudges me with
her arm. “You can’t have all these rich people carrying their own shit
around. Your luggage will be taken to your room. You have an
awesome room and roommate.” She smiles big as she points to
herself.
I laugh realizing how well we’re going to get along. At least I
don’t have to worry about rooming with someone I can’t stand.
Eden steps up next to me as both of us look out to where my
parents dropped me off. They’re still there, my dad is comforting my
mother. I have an urge, a huge one, to walk over and give them
both another hug. Eden must know this as she shakes her head no.
“It’ll get easier,” she says as we both stare at them.
I’m ready and waiting for her to start showing me shit but I have
no clue which direction to walk in. I turn back and look at Eden who
is currently nibbling on her worried lip.
“Who are you?” Her question is sincere, but out of place. “I know
your name, but I’m curious why you’re at the school.”
 I shrug. “I won a scholarship, so beats the hell out of me.” Eden
starts walking away from the direction that my parents were, and I
rapidly follow.
“There hasn’t been a transfer student here for well over a
hundred years, it’s unheard of. Even if they’re a week late, they
don’t get in. You’re a senior.” She looks at me waiting for a response,
and I don’t fucking have one.
Again I shrug, not knowing what to tell her. I’ve always been
Taylor Quinn from Queens, New York, and I’m pretty sure she’s able
to read that in the paperwork she has for me.
She looks at me and nods as we walk, her heels clicking. “Just be
careful. Someone wanted you here and it would terrify me if I didn’t
know why.”
I nod gallantly. “My parents are wary, but this is an opportunity
that we can’t let pass by.”
Eden stops walking, and turns toward me. “Damn straight. You
can get any job guaranteed if you have a degree from this fucking
school.” Now she nibbles on her well-manicured fingers. If we were
closer friends, I could see myself smacking her hand away. “You
have to be careful, at least until you graduate or we figure out why
the hell you’re here.” I’m still in shock at how much this unknown
girl has entered my life, but for some reason I trust her.
“Your school schedule.” Eden walks right next to me as we both
start looking at the schedule. She flows perfectly in four-inch heels
as I keep trying to not trip with someone walking this close to me.
I move my attention away from all the students running around
like me, but far better dressed, and concentrate on the schedule that
Eden is holding in her hands.
I’m strolling and not paying attention when I accidentally
shoulder check somebody.
“Oh God, I am so sorry,” I say before I turn and look at my
victim.
“Oh shit,” I hear mumbled from Eden.
Three gorgeous girls that fit right in to the school are now staring
deadly at me. The sun has made a rare entrance in this weather, and
is shining brightly like a halo behind all three girls.
 The one in the middle was the queen of the group. She’s slightly
in front of the other two who are flanking her. She gracefully moves
over to me. Using her hip, she bumps me off the little ledge that I
was standing next to.
I awkwardly drop three feet down, landing painfully on my ankle,
shifting it slightly to the side. I growl instead of saying anything as
my head snaps back up, looking at the three smiling bitches, and a
very pissed off Eden.
“Freaking charity trash,” the queen mumbles as her and her two
leeches walk by laughing.
Oh hell no, I grew up in a boxing club, well in the apartment
right above it, my whole life. I would earn my money sparring,
cleaning bodily fluid and letting professional boxers beat the shit out
of me, but it paid decent.
I jump up ready to throw down. I can safely say that I can hold
my own against one dude who can fight, and even a few non-
fighters like this stupid fucking bitch.
Eden recognizes what’s going on as she walks right in front of me
blocking my view. The girls turn around and blow me a kiss.
“Definitely not worth it, not these girls on your first day at this
school,” Eden says still blocking my advance toward them. I imagine
things aren’t that much different than high school. I know if I submit
to their bullshit, for the next year I’m going to be a walking target.
Eden still continues to calm my ass down. For some reason I
trust her as I reign in my anger, saving it for another fucking rainy
day.
“Let’s go to lunch,” Eden proudly exclaims as she grabs my arm
and starts to drag me to the cafeteria, leaving the bitches in the
opposite direction.
She moves where she has her arm threaded through mine. “We’ll
eat and then I’ll explain everything about the school and the
monsters that control it.” I nod. I need to know what I’m getting into
or at least how to play this game for the next year.
My feet suddenly stop as I follow Eden into the cafeteria. I’m in
shock and I freaking admit it. This place looks like one of the nicest
restaurants I have ever seen. We start to walk but Eden starts to
turn to the right and I move to the left to what looks like a buffet
window stop.
“What are you doing?” Eden asked as she moves up to me,
slightly tugging me in the direction that she’s going. She smiles as
she says, “we order from our table.”
“What?” My eyes are way too big for my sockets now as I follow
her direction still looking around. Over by the buffet window line,
whatever it’s called, there’s at least ten men and women dressed in
butler suits. They keep running food and drinks back and forth to
different tables.
I check the individual tables we walk past and notice there’s a lot
of booths. The upholstery covering these chairs doesn’t even have
one fucking mark on them. The tables have thick, beautiful clean
cloths covering them. We’ve been out to eat a few times when I was
younger but this place blows everything else away. Even the freaking
floor is not dirty, stained or has trash all over it. The wood is
beautiful and immaculate. It looks like it was just shined before we
came in here.
“Taylor, I would like you to meet your new best friends. The most
awesome people that go to the school. Pierce and Chance.” She
motions to a couple of guys that are snuggled very close together.
“And this is Joss.” A fiery redhead waves back to me, polite but
nervous.
“Girl, how the hell did you transfer into this school?” Chance is
the one who asked this question. He’s a darker skinned student, but
looks like he should be a model, absolutely stunning. His boyfriend,
I’m guessing, gives me a wink as I give them both a shrug. The
question I imagine I’ll get asked a lot and I still won’t have the
freaking answer for.
“It’s a mystery,” Eden tells the guys as we sit down.
“This is how you order,” Eden states, sitting right next to me,
across from the other three and working on an iPad. I watch and
pay attention as she goes through the different options. “Just let me
know if you want something, all we have to do is click and add it.”
I mumble out, “I don’t think I can afford this.” Apparently loud
enough for everybody else to hear, as they all start to chuckle.
Several tables give us an annoyed glance. It’s not like we’re in a
library.
“This is part of your scholarship,” Eden states as she waves
between her and the other three, “it’s part of our tuition. You can
come here anytime you want as long as they’re open and order
food. You won’t have to pay for it.”
Eden freaking laughs as she whispers to the others, “twenty
bucks she doesn’t know about the stipend.” All of them slightly laugh
now. I glance over to them, but my attention is yanked back. Hello
food.
Eden watches me for a second, when she’s finally had enough,
she moves her hand to the bottom of my chin, slightly pushing up
and getting me to close my damn fucking mouth. I try to swat her
arm away as we all laugh.
Every food I’ve ever heard of and some that I haven’t are on this.
I will not miss breakfast, lunch or dinner the whole time I’m here.
I’m pretty fucking sure of that. I order two lobster rolls and a large
Coke. Not the best healthy choice, but that’s something we don’t get
very much of either, soda. I’m probably gonna gain at least fifty
pounds and I’ll need to see the dentist by next month.
“Fuck you, Brett,” a girl screams out across the room as she tries
to push a guy away but he doesn’t budget at all.
“Oh my God,” I spit out not realizing it, with my eyes bulging.
Eden follows the line of my sight, and so do the gays, and Joss.
“Is that…” I keep pointing toward the Brett guy.
Eden chuckles. “Yeah. His dad is in the number one movie out
right now.” At least this time I close my mouth before somebody else
does it for me. The guy is laughing with the group of other hot
looking guys and girls. They’re all looking comfortable in jeans and
shirts, the girls are wearing tight dresses, too tight to fit any food in
them.
“If you look over there, that’s the president’s son.” Damn, she’s
right, as I look toward the other side of the room where a lanky guy
with glasses is eating with a few other people. All of them are
intently looking through books. “You’ll be shocked by what you see
here. Everyone in this room comes from some kind of power or
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
answered by [238]a “burning, as in hell-fire, of priestly shams and
lies,” and not one out of twenty French monasteries escaped the fury
of the avengers. Our Protestant clergymen see their temple walls
cracked by a breach of ever-multiplying schisms, and can prop their
prestige only by more and more humiliating concessions, and in
every intelligent community have to purchase popularity by rank
heresies against the dogmas of their predecessors. Here and there
the orthodox tenets of the New Testament have survived the
progress of rationalism, but haunt the shade, like specters scenting
the morning air, and momentarily expecting the summons that shall
banish them to the realms of their native night.

[Contents]

E.—REFORM.

When the harbinger of day dispels the specters of darkness, half-

awakened sleepers often mourn the fading visions of dreamland, as
they would mourn the memories of a vanished world, till they find
that the solid earth still remains, with its mountains and forests, and
that the enjoyment of real life has but just begun. With a similar
regret the dupes of Jesuitism mourn the collapse of their creed and
lament the decline of morality, till they find that religion still remains,
with its consolations and hopes, and that the true work of redemption
has but just begun.

The reign of superstition begins to yield to a religion of reason and

humanity. The first forerunners of that religion appeared at the end of
the sixteenth century, when the philosophers of northern Europe
[239]first dared to appeal from dogma to nature, and since that revival
of common-sense the prison walls of clerical obscurantism have
been shaken by shock after shock, till daylight now enters through a
thousand fissures.

But Secularism has a positive as well as a negative mission, and

after removing the ruins of exploded idols, the champions of reform
will begin the work of reconstruction. Temples dedicated to the
religion of progress will rise from the ruins of superstition.
Communities of reformants will intrust the work of education to
chosen teachers, who will combine the functions of an instructor with
those of an exhorter. In the languages of several European nations
the word “rector” still bears that twofold significance. The ministers of
Secularism will not sacrifice physical health to mental culture. They
will be gymnasiarchs, like the Grecian pedagogues who
superintended the athletic exercises of their pupils and accompanied
them on foot journeys and hunting excursions. They will be teachers
of hygiene, laboring to secure the foundations of mental energy by
the preservation of physical vigor, and to banish diseases by the
removal of their causes. They will seek to circumscribe the power of
prejudice by the extension of knowledge. They will obviate the perils
of poverty by lessons of industry and prudence. Their doctrines will
dispense with miracles; they will make experience the test of truth,
and justice the test of integrity; they will not suppress, but
encourage, free inquiry; their war against error will employ no
weapons but those of logic. [240]

The religion of reason will limit its proper sphere to the secular
welfare of mankind, but will ask, as well as grant, the fullest freedom
of metaphysical speculation. Why should the friends of light darken
the sunshine of earth with fanatical wars for the suppression of
private theories about the mystery of the unrevealed first cause?
Why should they rage about the riddle of the veiled hereafter to
please the ordainer of the eternal law that visits such inexorable
penalties upon the neglect of the present world? Should the friends
of common sense quarrel about guesses at the solution of
unknowable secrets? We need not grudge our wonder-loving brother
the luxury of meditating on the mysteries of the unseen or the
possibilities of resurrection. Shall the soul of the dying patriarch live
only in his children? Shall it wing its way to distant stars? Shall it
linger on earth:

“Sigh in the breeze, keep silence in the cave,

And glide with airy foot o’er yonder sea?”

Why should we wrangle about riddles which we cannot possibly

solve? But we might certainly have honesty enough to admit that
impossibility. Musing on the enigmas of the “land beyond the veil”
may entertain us with the visions of a dreamy hour, but should not
engross the time needed for the problems of the only world thus far
revealed.

Thus, founded on a basis of health-culture, reason, and justice, the

office of priesthood will regain its ancient prestige, and the best and
wisest of men will become ministers of Secularism by devoting their
lives to the science of happiness on earth. [241]
[Contents]
 PROF. FELIX L. OSWALD’S WORKS.

THE SECRET OF THE EAST; or, The Origin of the

Christian Religion, and the Significance of its Rise
and Decline. Cloth, $1.

THE BIBLE OF NATURE; or, The Principles of

Secularism. A Contribution to the Religion of the
Future. Cloth, $1.

PHYSICAL EDUCATION; or, The Health-Laws of

Nature. Cloth, $1.

HOUSEHOLD REMEDIES; for the Prevalent

Disorders of the Human Organism. Cloth, $1.

THE POISON PROBLEM; or, The Cause and Cure of

Intemperance. Pap., 25cts; clo., 75cts.

SUMMERLAND SKETCHES; or, Rambles in the

Backwoods of Mexico and Central America.
Profusely Illustrated from Designs by H. F. Farny and H.
Faber. 8vo, cloth, $2.50.

ZOOLOGICAL SKETCHES. A Contribution to the

Outdoor Study of Natural History. 8vo, cloth, $2.

For all of the above address

THE TRUTH SEEKER CO.,

28 Lafayette Place, New York. [242]
[Contents]
 WORKS OF
L. K. WASHBURN.

Sunday and the Sabbath. “A law regulating human

conduct on the Sabbath is an impertinence.” Price, 10
cents.

The False Teaching of the Christian Church. “The

Thirty-nine Articles of the Christian church are thirty-nine
poor, broken-down opinions.” Price, 10 cents.

The Foolishness of Prayer. “Think of a minister’s

praying God to kill grasshoppers, or trying to induce the
deity to undertake a crusade of one against the Colorado
beetle!” Price, 10 cents.

Followers of Jesus. Price, 10 cents.

Religious Problems. Price, 10 cents.

Spiritualism: Is It a Faith or a Fact? Price, 5 cents.

Do You Love Jesus? Price, 5 cents.

America’s Debt to Thomas Paine. Price, 5 cents.

Is Liberalism Moral? Price, 5 cents.

A Holy Superstition. Price, 5 cents.

Temperance and the Bible. Price, 5 cents.

Free Religion; or, The Religious Demand of To-day.
Price, 5 cents.

The Brute God of the Old Testament. Price, 5 cents.

The Public Schools and the Catholic Church. 5 cents.

 Colophon
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Metadata

The Bible of Nature;

Or, The Principles of
Title: Secularism. A
Contribution to the
Religion of the Future
Felix Leopold Oswald Info
Author:
(1845–1906) https://viaf.org/viaf/16832833/
File
2023-11-15 20:45:25
generation
UTC
date:
Language: English
Original
publication 1888
date:

Revision History

2023-11-04 Started.
Corrections

The following corrections have been applied to the text:

Edit
Page Source Correction
distance
13 jailors jailers 1
31 - [Deleted] 1
38 night-shaft night-shift 1
42 Golgatha Golgotha 1
44 [Not in source] . 1
75 koenig König 3/2
75 koennen können 2/1
89 Jerstaecker Gerstäcker 3/2
90 Rhus Rushd 3
97 Hartz Harz 1
98 kreuze Kreuze 1
98 Luetzen Lützen 2/1
98 Oudenarde Oudenaarde 1
102 wordly worldly 1
105 Hooglyn Hooghly 2
117 cooperation coöperation 1/0
123 intemperence intemperance 1
124 eshalten erhalten 1
152 hypocrits hypocrites 1
160 michievousness mischievousness 1
165,
179, Moriscoes Moriscos 1
189
173 groessre grössre 2/1
188 gardenlands garden-lands 1
197 Budha-Pesth Buda-Pesth 1
226 favorit favorite 1
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