I stumbled out of the clinic like a walking corpse. My legs were weak, my skin pale as snow, and a cold chill rustled through, creeping into my bones. I felt like I could drop at any moment, but somehow, my eyes refused to close.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. Raymond burst out of the clinic, breathless. He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him.
Panting, he asked, "You saw them… how?"
I looked into his eyes, mine dull and heavy, drained of life. My voice came out hollow, almost detached.
"I don't know."
His shoulders sagged. Disappointment flickered in his eyes. He let go of me and stepped back.
"Why can I see them?" I muttered. "Why are they here?"
There was a pause before he finally answered, his voice bitter and low.
"It's Annie. She sent them… to haunt me."
"But why?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out. "Why can I see them too?"
"I don't know," he said again.
Of course he didn't. I could tell he wanted to give me answers, but even he was lost. There was no comfort in his presence only more questions.
I returned to my hostel, dragging my feet. My fingers trembled on the doorknob. What if Pink was inside? What would I even say to her?
After a long pause, I inhaled deeply and stepped in but it wasn't Pink I saw, it was her.
She sat near the mirror on Pink's side of the room, one leg crossed over the other, her posture regal yet relaxed. The dim lighting made her skin glow like molten silver, and the shadows seemed to bend toward her. Her presence filled the space like thick smoke.
She smiled at me, slow and knowing, as if she had been waiting in that exact spot for hours.
"You're back. Finally," she said, it was the first time I had ever heard her voice and it was nothing like I expected.
Her voice was smooth, almost melodic, but laced with an eerie stillness. It reminded me of a lullaby sung too slowly, as if each word was wrapped in silk and shadow. There was no warmth in it, no rise or fall in tone, just a steady cadence that made the hairs on my arms lift. It was a voice that didn't belong in this world.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely rising above the thudding of my own heartbeat.
Her head tilted in quiet amusement. "Let's see…" Her dark eyes scanned the room lazily before locking on mine again. "I'm Rivon."
"Rivon?" I echoed, the name unfamiliar yet wrong in a way that made my stomach turn. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She stood, graceful and deliberate, like a shadow unfolding. "A demon," she said, her voice like velvet soaked in venom. "I'm a demon, Terra."
I staggered back, one hand fumbling for the doorknob behind me, fingers slick with sweat. "You… you know my name?"
Her smile widened, all teeth and secrets. "Of course I do. You're Terra Tune. The dark witch."
My blood turned to ice. "Wh-what?"
"You don't know?" she whispered, tilting her head in mock pity. "Now that is interesting."
"What does that even mean?" I choked out, but my words trembled in the air like leaves in a storm.
She stepped forward but her outline had already begun to blur. Her form unraveled like smoke caught in a breeze, her limbs dissolving into mist, her smile the last thing to vanish.
"Wait!" I screamed, lunging forward but my hands grasped only air.
And then the door burst open, hitting me squarely in the shoulder. I stumbled back, heart still racing as Pink strode in, arms crossed and eyes like cold steel.
"You're back," she said, her voice laced with disgust. "Thought I got rid of you."
I rubbed my arm and muttered, "It's gonna be hard to do that."
She scoffed and brushed past me, her scent sharp with floral defiance. "Just wait and see. I won't let you take what's mine."
"Seriously, Pink?" I snapped, still reeling from Rivon's disappearance. "Are we really going to let a guy come between us?"
Pink whirled around, her eyes ablaze. "Us? There is no us anymore. You stopped being my friend the moment you stabbed me in the back."
My throat tightened. "You never even let me explain...1"
"I don't want to hear it," she hissed, jamming her earbuds in like they were shields against my voice. Without another word, she slammed the bathroom door shut, the echo rattling the windows.
I stood there for a long moment, breath shallow, I sighed. It was going to be tough living like this but we were roommates. She couldn't ignore me forever… right?
...
The next day at school, I walked down the hallway with cautious steps. The air felt different. The stares that used to trail me like a second shadow were gone. No more sharp whispers behind lockers. No more sidelong glances or fake coughs hiding insults. Just the usual chaos of high school, bells, chatter and footsteps.
It had finally died down.
I exhaled slowly, almost in disbelief. I felt… relieved.
Inside the principal's office, I sat stiffly across from her polished desk. The chair was cold against my back, the silence pressing down on me until she finally looked up from a file and offered a faint, unreadable smile.
"Well," she said, folding her hands. "It seems the past few weeks have brought some calm. Looks like you're no longer a distraction."
Her tone was formal, clipped, like someone who didn't trust peace to last.
"Welcome back, Miss Tune. Try to be on your best behavior, else next time…" Her smile hardened. "I won't be so forgiving."
I bit the inside of my cheek. It wasn't even my fault. None of it had been. But there was no point arguing with someone who had already made up their mind.
"I'll try my best, ma'am," I said quietly.
On my way to class, I nearly made it to the stairs before I heard a familiar voice.
"Terra!"
I turned too late, Jesse caught me in a tight hug before I could even react. I froze in his arms, eyes wide.
"You're back," he said, grinning like nothing had happened.
"Yeah." My tone was colder than I meant. "Why do you care?"
He stepped back, expression faltering. "I'm sorry, Terra. I was a jerk. I told Pink everything. That it was my fault."
I raised an eyebrow. "And how did she take that?"
His face darkened. "Not well."
I remembered her words, sharp and venomous.
"I won't let you take what's mine."
A shiver ran down my spine. Something told me she wasn't done yet.
In class, I slid into the seat beside Genora. She looked up and smiled gently, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Clary and Zack sat up front together. Their backs were straight, posture stiff. Neither of them turned around. I stared at the back of Zack's neck, hoping he'd sense me there. Hoping he'd look.
He didn't.
It stung more than I wanted to admit.
"You okay?" Genora whispered, noticing the silence, the flickers of attention still aimed at me from around the room.
"Yeah. I'm fine," I said, eyes fixed on my desk.
She hesitated, fiddling with her pen cap. "Hey… if you're free after class, do you want to hang out? Just us. Maybe the movies tonight or so?"
I looked at her slowly. I hadn't really seen her before not the way I saw people like Pink, or Clary, or Zack. But Genora had always been there. Quiet. Kind. Trying.
My silence made her shrink a little. She looked down, cheeks flushing.
"It's okay if you don't want to..."
"No," I cut in. "It's fine. I'd love to."
Pink wasn't an option anymore. Not after everything. And Genora… she was offering me something I hadn't had in a long time.
At lunch, we sat under the old courtyard tree, me, Genora, Sam, and a quiet kid with big glasses named Oscar. We sat far from the cafeteria noise, from the "cool crowd" and their filtered laughter.
We talked about sea turtles.
Sam launched into a passionate speech about how climate change was affecting nesting beaches, and Genora chimed in with a funny story about a turtle rescue trip she did in middle school.
It was… nerd stuff. But it was real. There were no sharp edges here. No fake smiles. Just awkward laughs, shared chips, and the comfort of not having to pretend.
And for the first time in a while, I smiled without faking it.
"Hey, why don't we all go to the movies together tonight" I asked, a little nervous, but trying to sound casual.
Genora's eyes lit up instantly. "Ooh, yes! That'd be really fun."
"Yeah, that's nice," Oscar added, flashing a small smile as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "I haven't been to the movies in ages."
But then Sam shifted awkwardly in his seat. His smile faltered.
"Erm… sorry," he said slowly, glancing down at the table. "I won't be able to make it."
I frowned. "Why not?"
"I have… stuff. Yeah, stuff to take care of," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. His voice was cautious, almost too vague to believe.
I didn't think too much about it, some people were just naturally introverted. They didn't always like crowds or noise or sitting in dark theaters with too many people.
"Okay then," I said, offering him a small smile. "That leaves just me, Genora, and Oscar."
Genora beamed and leaned closer. "We should pick something fun. Not too scary. I still haven't recovered from that movie last month."
Oscar chuckled. "No horror. Got it."
Sam smiled faintly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He stood up soon after, mumbling something about needing to use the bathroom.
...
Later that day, I made my way to the clinic.
The hallway stretched ahead like a tunnel, unusually quiet for this time of day. The usual sounds, locker doors slamming, muffled laughter, footsteps seemed distant. My own shoes barely made a sound on the tiled floor. For once, the school didn't feel crowded or chaotic.
I stopped in front of the clinic door and knocked softly.
"Mr. Ray?"
Inside, I heard the shuffle of papers. He called out gently, "Come in."
I stepped into the room.
Mr. Ray stood behind the desk, sorting through a box of files. His usual air of weariness still clung to him, but something had shifted. The room itself felt less haunted, the lingering spirits were gone.
That, at least, gave me comfort.
"Terra," he said with a tired smile. "Is everything all right?"
"I… have a question," I said, voice low.
He set the folder down and leaned forward, sensing the weight behind my words.
I took a breath. "Have you ever heard of someone or something called Rivon?"
He froze coming to a complete halt. His eyes locked onto mine. The warmth in his expression drained instantly.
"Where did you hear that name?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
I shifted under his gaze. "I saw it… in a book." I lied "an old history text."
He adjusted his glasses and walked slowly to a dusty cabinet, as if trying to retrieve something "Rivon," he said at last, "is not a name spoken often."
I waited, tension crackling under my skin.
"She is a demon," he said. "One of the sixth circle. She was once assigned to serve the dark witches."
That term landed hard.
"Dark witches?" I echoed, unsure if I even wanted to know.
He turned to me fully now, his face grave. "Witches of time and chaos. Carriers of powerful dark magic. Enough to wipe out entire races. But they were all wiped out… long ago."
My throat felt dry. "And what happened to them?"
"They were hunted, executed, erased from history by the High Orders centuries ago," he said. "Their magic was deemed too dangerous to exist."
I sat there, feeling like the air had thickened around me, pressing against my lungs.
"Anything else?" Mr. Ray asked, trying to ease the heaviness in the room.
I shook my head quickly. "No… thank you."
I left the clinic, heart hammering. She was there, leaning against the wall just outside the clinic door. Rivon, again as if summoned by name. Her arms were crossed, and that same ghostly smile curved her lips. Her eyes were piercing.
"So now you know," she said, voice smooth as silk but sharp as ice.
I stared at her, every hair on my body standing on end.
"You're really a demon?" I whispered and she nodded smiling.
I glared at her. "There are thousands of students here. Why me?"
That smile widened, but her eyes stayed cold. "Because, Terra… you're the only one who saw the vengeful ghosts."
My breath caught in my throat, no one had known that. I never told anyone. I stared at her. My mind screamed at me to deny it then she laughed
"Kidding," she giggled. "It's because you, Terra Tune… are a dark witch. And deep down, you already know what that means."
"I'm not a witch," I breathed.
"You don't have to believe it right now" she said, her voice barely a whisper now, yet it echoed in my bones. "But you will"
I could not take it anymore, so I ran. My heart pounded as I tore through the corridor. She just smiled and vanished.
...
That night…
The harvest moon loomed heavy in the sky, swollen and golden like a burning eye watching the world below. Its eerie glow painted the clouds in molten silver and cast long, twisted shadows across the abandoned industrial park. The wind carried the distant howls of wolves.
Atop the corroded rooftop of an old factory, Jennie and Sofie crouched behind a wall of rusted pipes. Their breaths fogged the night air, their hearts pounding in sync with the rising tension.
"This is it, Sofie," Jennie murmured, her voice barely above the wind. "The night we've waited for."
Sofie tightened her grip on the silver pistol, blessed by moonstone and blood rites. Her voice wavered. "What if he doesn't come?"
"He will." Jennie's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "No wolf can resist the Harvest Moon. Not even him."
They both wore ancient necklaces, strands of onyx and bone beads inscribed with runes enchanted to hold back the beast within. Protection against the pull of the moon.
Their weapons, silver blades, the pistol, and a chain wrapped in wolfsbane glinted faintly under the lunar light.
Then, as if summoned by the weight of their determination, he emerged, the Alpha.
He stepped out of the shadows like a ghost, half-man, half-beast. His fur shimmered like obsidian in the moonlight, muscles coiled beneath the surface like springs waiting to snap. His eyes, burning red swept across the rooftop, ancient and calculating. He paused… then threw his head back and howled.
The sound was chilling. A raw, guttural call that cracked the silence. All around them, howls echoed in response from the forest and alleys below.
Jennie's lips curled into a grin. "Bingo."
Sofie raised her pistol, breath shallow, hands trembling slightly as she took aim, right between his eyes and fired.
The bullet never landed.
The Alpha was gone before the silver even broke the air. A gust of wind struck them and suddenly, he was there. In front of them, massive and menacing.
The rooftop exploded into chaos.
The Alpha struck first, his clawed arm sweeping Jennie off her feet and slamming her into the rooftop with a bone-rattling crash. She groaned, coughing blood but rising like a flame refusing to die.
Sofie screamed and opened fire again. But the Alpha twisted around the bullets like wind through trees, then grabbed her by the wrist and flung her into a rusted metal ladder.
Jennie stood, shaky but defiant, her blade drawn. She lunged, striking with fury and desperation. But nothing landed. The Alpha moved like smoke, untouchable. He struck her again, hard and she slammed into the gravel, breath knocked from her lungs.
Then he howled again, louder and more primal, a sound that vibrated in their bones.
From the shadows below, shapes emerged. Wolves, dozens of them, eyes glowing and teeth bared.
Sofie's voice cracked. "This was a mistake," she whispered, clutching her side.
Jennie staggered upright, blood streaking her temple. "Not if I can take him with me."
She tore the bead necklace from her throat, eyes flashing as her body began to shift. Her spine cracked, fur erupted, claws replaced fingers.
She charged at him, howling in defiance, and managed one clean slash, ripping deep into the Alpha's wrist. His blood hissed as it hit the air.
He roared and struck her down with a swipe, sending her flying across the rooftop like a ragdoll.
Sofie ran to her, shaking. "You'll die if you go now!"
Jennie coughed. "If I don't… I'll still die."
"No, Jennie. Not tonight. We need to plan better. You're not ready."
More wolves encircled them, snarling and creeping closer.
With reluctance burning in her eyes, Jennie let Sofie pull her toward the rooftop exit.
As they disappeared down the stairwell, Jennie turned one last time, her transformed face full of rage.
"I'll be back," she snarled. "Just you wait."
Later that night, when the moon began to fade, I was on my way back to my hostel.
I had spent most of the night at Genora's place where we had our movie night. We'd laughed, screamed at jump scares, and eaten everything from sour gummies to microwaved pizza slices.
But now, walking alone through the back streets of Caveroop, that laughter felt like a distant memory.
The air was cold, so cold that I could see my breath in little clouds in front of me. I was walking down the quiet street cautiously, trying not to draw attention. Genora had told me to stay back until daybreak, said something about the harvest moon and the wolves, but I refused.
Now I was rethinking my actions.
The silence around me felt unnatural, you could've heard a pin drop. No one was in sight, not even a single soul.
As I reached the path that curved toward the back of the school grounds, I heard a sound, that sound. The same sound I'd heard in the woods the day I discovered werewolves actually existed. A low, strained growl, like something trying to crawl out of its own skin.
I should have run. I wanted to run. Every instinct inside me screamed to turn around and bolt.
But curiosity... curiosity has always been my downfall.
Quietly, I slipped off the road and made my way through the side trail near the old greenhouse. The shadows deepened as I moved forward, trees looming overhead like silent sentinels. And then I saw it.
Someone was crouched near the clearing, thrashing, struggling with themselves. Their body twisted unnaturally, bones cracking and reforming. The air shimmered around them, thick with magic and pain.
This time, it was a man, half-transformed. His hands were still clawed, but shrinking. Patches of fur receded slowly into his skin like smoke drawn back into fire. His snout began to collapse inward, reshaping into a familiar human jaw. His bones cracked and popped loudly in the quiet night, like tree branches snapping under pressure.
His back arched as he staggered, caught between forms like two selves pulling him in opposite directions. He dropped to his knees with a guttural growl, panting hard, sweat mixing with dirt and blood across his bare chest.
I stood frozen behind a tree, barely breathing. What stood before me the unmistakable figure of Mr Henzel, our math teacher. The head of the disciplinary committee that most students dare not cross.
I gasped, instinctively clapping my hand over my mouth. Don't tell me Mr. Henzel is who I think it is, he had always been so commanding and authoritative, could he be the alpha...
His ears twitched. His head snapped in my direction.
Oh no.
I dropped low behind a bush, barely daring to breathe. For what felt like forever, I stayed crouched, heart pounding so loud I thought it might give me away. But he only sniffed the air, let out a low growl… and then walked away into the night.
I waited five whole minutes before I moved. I rose slowly and carefully bolted away, through the gate, and across the gravel toward the hostel building. I didn't stop until I reached the door, slammed it shut behind me, and leaned back against it, gasping for air.