The air in my hostel room was sterile and cold, but I barely noticed it. I had been discharged from the hospital earlier that day after the vampire attack and was trying to rest, though my mind kept replaying every detail of last night. My ribs ached with every breath, and the gauze on my shoulder itched under my sweatshirt.
The door creaked open.
"You're up?" Pink stepped in. Her voice was unusually soft, almost hesitant. Her signature pink hair was tied high in a ponytail, and she was already dressed for class in a cherry-red blouse and matching heels that clicked softly on the floor.
"Yeah," I said, glancing over. "Doctor says I'm good to go. Just bruises and scratches."
Pink leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. "Really? That's a shame. I was hoping you'd spend eternity in that hospital. Would've saved me the trouble."
I sighed, too exhausted to play the usual game. "Can we not do this today? Please."
She raised an eyebrow. "Do what? I'm just being honest. You started the drama."
I turned away, sinking deeper into the pillow. My head throbbed.
There was a beat of silence before she added, with a razor-thin smile, "Don't worry, sweetie. This is only the beginning. I'll take it from where the vampire left off."
She grabbed her mini pink bag, slung it over her shoulder, and swept out the door like a storm wrapped in perfume and sarcasm.
God, can this drama just end already?
By third period, Caveroop High was buzzing like a nest of hornets. Whispers zipped across the corridors, fluttering like moths. Everyone had heard something about the vampire attack, though no one knew the full truth only rumors, half-baked stories, and fear.
The intercom crackled to life. Mrs. Adams' voice, smooth but edged with steel, echoed through every classroom.
"Students of Caveroop High, we are aware of an unfortunate incident that took place last night involving two of our students and what has been confirmed to be a Blueblood Vampire. Please know that the school is working closely with local authorities and the Supernatural Affairs Council. Effective immediately, there will be increased security patrols on campus, especially at nights. All students are urged to remain indoors after dark and strictly observe the new curfew. Stay safe. That is all."
As the intercom clicked off, a low hum of murmuring filled the room like bees trapped in a jar. I could feel eyes darting toward me, subtle, but obvious. Whispers turned into glances, and glances turned into silence whenever I moved. She didn't say my name but some how, they knew.
During recess, I slipped out into the courtyard, I needed air. The stone fountain at the center of the square was my temporary sanctuary, chipped, mossy, and old, but quiet then...
"Figured you could use something warm." I heard a familiar voice.
I turned and saw Zack, holding two cups of cafeteria hot chocolate. He handed me one, his fingers brushing mine.
"Thanks," I said, avoiding his eyes. My voice sounded smaller than I intended.
He sat beside me without a word. For a while, neither of us spoke.
"I heard you got discharged this morning," he finally said, voice gentle. "Shouldn't you be resting?"
I gave a faint shrug. "I rested enough. I'm fine."
He looked at me, brow furrowed. "Are you?"
I glanced down at my cup. "Why do you care?"
"Because… I know I said I needed space, but that doesn't mean I stopped caring."
I gave a bitter laugh. "So we're friends now? That's news to me. I thought you hated me."
"I never hated you, Terra," he said quickly. "I was just... trying to get my emotions in check."
"Have you?" I asked quietly, meeting his eyes.
He looked away, exhaling through his nose. "Not really."
Silence again. This one lingered longer but felt less heavy.
"How're you doing?" he asked softly.
I took a long sip of the hot chocolate before answering. "I'll be fine."
Meanwhile, across campus, the old girls' locker room was dimly lit. Dust danced in the air as Jennie paced back and forth, her boots echoing on the cracked tile. Her blue eyes glowed faintly in the flickering lights as she stared into the mirror, chest heaving.
Time was slipping away.
"Jennie, calm down," Sofie said, trying her best to soothe her. Her voice was soft, but her worry was real.
Jennie shook her head, gripping the edges of the sink. "If I don't become alpha soon, it's over. My strength's slipping. I can feel it Sof. Every second I wait, it worsen."
"You saw what happened during the Harvest Moon," Sofie replied. "He's got an army, supernatural strength, absolute control. He's the alpha for a reason. Rebelling could get you killed."
"I don't care," Jennie muttered. She yanked her bag open and pulled out a battered book bound in cracked leather. "There's got to be a way to beat him, a weakness, a loophole."
Sofie sighed but nodded. She knew talking Jennie down wasn't going to work. "Then we need to find out who he is, the real identity behind the mask. Knowing his name, his lineage... it could give us an edge."
Jennie paused. "But how are we supposed to do that?"
"Nemus," Sofie said carefully.
Jennie flinched. "No."
"We don't have a choice. If anyone knows how to traphas dirt the alpha, it's him."
"I'd rather die than crawl back to that bastard," Jennie spat. "I'll find another way."
Later that afternoon, Rejoice knocked lightly on the clinic door. Raymond was alone, preparing herbs and tinctures for his afternoon class. He glanced up when she entered.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice guarded.
"I came to check on you," she said quietly. "Are you… alright?"
Raymond gave a tired sigh. "Joy, you shouldn't be here."
"I just wanted to see if you're okay... after the rumor."
Raymond looked down at his hands. "You know that rumor could easily become fact if anyone sees us together right now. Mrs. Adams has already questioned me three times. I'm trying to keep a clean slate after the whole Charles situation."
Rejoice nodded, her expression tightening. "So… what now?"
"I think we need space. Just for a while. Until things settle."
He walked to the door, peeked into the hallway, then turned back. "You go first."
She hesitated, just for a moment, then stepped out.
...
The school hallway was unnaturally quiet, like the calm before a storm. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the occasional distant murmur of a teacher's voice echoed faintly behind closed doors. Most students were tucked away in their classrooms, but one figure moved freely, Charles, having slipped out with a bathroom pass, walked leisurely down the corridor.
He hummed softly to himself, some forgotten tune, as he pushed open the heavy restroom door. The light inside flickered for a moment before stabilizing, casting sharp shadows across the tiled floor. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant.
Charles turned on the faucet and let the cool water run over his hands. The noise of rushing water masked everything else.
"Charles…"
A whisper, so soft it might have been his imagination, sliced through the silence.
He froze mid-rinse, his head snapping up. Water dripped from his fingertips.
He turned toward the source. "Hello?" he called, eyes scanning the corners. "Is someone there?" but there were no response.
He frowned, trying to shake the chill crawling up his spine. He reached for the tap. Just as he turned it off, movement rippled in the mirror behind him, someone, shifting out from the shadows.
He spun around, a figure stood at the edge of the dim light.
Annie.
Her appearance was haunting. Her skin was pale and drawn, lips slightly blue, as though she hadn't seen sunlight or sleep in days. Her once-vibrant eyes were wide and glassy, reflecting equal parts terror and awe. Strands of her hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.
"Charles…" she whispered, voice fragile like cracking porcelain.
He stepped back instinctively. "What the hell?"
She moved forward slowly, her arms shaking at her sides. "It's true… You're alive. But… how? What did Raymond do to you? Please, Charles. Tell me." she sounded desperate.
He stared at her, confused and wary. "Do I know you?"
Her face crumpled. "Wh-what?"
"I said… who the hell are you?" he asked, more forcefully this time. "And why are you in the boys' restroom? Are you stalking me or something?"
Her lips trembled. "It's me… A-Annie," she said, as if saying her name would unlock something in him. "We were friends. Don't you remember?"
"I don't know any Annie," Charles replied coldly. "Are you new here?"
She staggered back as if struck. "No… no, no, no, what did they do to you?"
He started edging toward the door, heart pounding now. "I'm serious. If you don't leave right now, I'll report you."
Annie's expression shifted, grief folding into desperation, then hardening into something darker. Her eyes glistened, then ignited with fury. She clenched her fists, before Charles could react, she lunged forward.
"What the hell!?" he shouted, stumbling as Annie grabbed both sides of his face with icy hands.
"Let go of me!"
But she didn't. She pressed her forehead to his, her body trembling violently.
A low chant began to echo from her lips. The air in the bathroom thickened, vibrating with invisible power. The lights above sparked, then dimmed.
Charles's eyes fluttered. A searing bolt of pain coursed through his skull. His visions blurred and rapid flashed before his mind's eye: a dark forest, an old lab with ancient herbs and tonics, a ritual circle burning with blue flame, a huge figure standing over him with a cruel smile then, silence.
Charles collapsed like a rag doll, hitting the cold tile with a sickening thud.
Annie staggered back, gasping for breath. Her eyes were wide with understanding now. She looked down at him, a strange mix of heartbreak and vindication etched across her face.
"Donald Pathaway," she whispered. "Of course..."
And then, with a final glance, she dissolved into mist, vanishing like a whisper in the wind.
Minutes later, the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Laughter and chatter filled the halls again as students poured out of classrooms.
Sam jogged down the hallway, clutching his backpack and a crumpled worksheet. "Man, I gotta pee…"
He pushed open the restroom door and stopped dead in his tracks, a body lay crumpled on the floor.
"Charles?" he called hesitantly, the air suddenly colder but there were no response.
Sam rushed into a stall, did his business in record time, and hurried to the unconscious boy. He crouched down, heart hammering.
"Hey, man. You okay?" He shook Charles's shoulder gently, again, no response. He touched his neck, it was cold. Too cold.
Sam's breath caught.
"Oh no."