The gym burned with a collision of light and shadow, a warzone of fire and screams. The clawed hand tore through the floor, its obsidian talons glistening with blood that wasn't blood—black, viscous, smelling of roses and ash. An initiate, still chanting, reached toward Lilith, only to scream as the claw brushed his arm. His body crumbled to ash, the dust swirling into the widening crack in the floor, where a red glow pulsed like a dying star. The air shrieked, a thousand voices woven into one, and the blood moon glared through the shattered skylight, bathing the chaos in crimson.
Reece shouted, his voice lost in the roar of green flames and howling wind. "Maya! We gotta move!" His broom handle trembled in his grip, useless against the abyss opening beneath them.
Eli stood frozen, the dagger in his hand glowing blue, its light cutting through the smoke like a beacon. The runes etched into its blade hummed, vibrating against his palm, as if urging him to act. Lilith screamed an incantation, her black wings unfurling, their edges sharp as obsidian blades. She pushed back against the dark, her necklace pulsing purple, but the crack widened, and the air grew heavier, pressing against their lungs.
Maya clutched the bone-cross key, its script burning red-hot in her hand. Her vision blurred, the voice from the Underground Sanctum echoing in her skull: Spill her blood. End her. She locked eyes with Eli, then Reece, their faces pale in the flickering light. The clawed hand reached higher, its talons scraping the air, and Asher laughed—a hollow, guttural sound that wasn't entirely his. Half his face was gone, consumed by a void of green fire, his remaining eye glowing with something ancient, something other.
"You think this ends with her?" Asher said, his voice layered with that deeper presence from the gate. "This is only the beginning."
Maya's heart pounded. The key burned her palm, its heat searing into her bones. She glanced at Eli, his dagger trembling, then at the crack, where shadows writhed like living things. "Do it," she said, her voice steady despite the terror clawing her insides.
She threw the key.
It arced through the air, glowing red, and the moment it crossed the crack, the world fractured. Light exploded—blue, purple, green—blinding them. The gym vanished, the screams silenced, and the air went still.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Maya's eyes snapped open. She was in her bed, sheets tangled around her legs, damp with sweat. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest tight as if she'd been running. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, soft and golden, painting her room in a warmth that felt wrong. The clock on the wall read 6:00 AM, its second hand ticking too loudly, each click a needle in her skull.
She sat up, disoriented. Her room was exactly as she remembered—posters on the walls, books stacked on her desk, her phone charging on the nightstand. Normal. Too normal. But her body felt wrong. The sheets weren't just damp with sweat; they were soaked, heavy with a metallic tang that made her stomach lurch. She threw them off, her hands shaking, and stumbled to the bathroom.
The mirror showed her face—still Maya, still here. But her eyes were bloodshot, and her skin was too pale, as if something had drained her in her sleep. She splashed cold water on her face, but the sensation didn't ground her. It felt like trespass, like something had touched her soul in the night, something not fully real. Her reflection flickered, just for a moment, and she swore she saw a shadow move behind her, its edges curling like black roses.
She gripped the sink, whispering, "It was a dream. Just a dream."
But the key's burn mark lingered on her palm, faint but real.
Across town, Eli woke screaming. His voice tore through the quiet of his bedroom, his sheets soaked, clinging to his skin. He gasped, blinking at the morning light streaming through his window. His glasses sat on the nightstand, but he didn't need them to see the impossible.
On his desk, beside a stack of textbooks, was the dagger.
It wasn't supposed to be there. He hadn't taken it home. Its blade glowed faintly, the runes pulsing like a heartbeat, weaker than in the gym but alive. He reached for it, half-expecting it to burn, but it was cold, almost comforting. He turned it over, the blue light reflecting in his wide eyes.
His sheets caught his attention. They weren't just wet—they were stained, dark and viscous, like the blood-drops from the roses in the gym. He stumbled back, his ears ringing. A voice—Lilith's, soft and venomous—whispered, "It's not over."
He spun, expecting her shadow in the corner, but the room was empty. The dagger's glow flickered, and the ringing in his ears faded, leaving only the sound of his own ragged breathing.
Reece didn't scream when he woke. He laughed—a sharp, disbelieving bark that echoed in his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his forearm. A symbol was burned into his skin, faint as if drawn with light: a spiral with claws, pulsing softly before going still. He touched it, expecting pain, but it was warm, like a living thing under his flesh.
"No freaking way," he muttered, scrubbing at it with his thumb. It didn't fade.
He stood, pacing, his room too bright, too normal. The posters of basketball stars on his walls seemed to watch him, their smiles too wide. He glanced out the window at the sun—too warm, too perfect. A bird chirped outside, its song looping like a broken record. He shook his head, trying to laugh again, but it came out as a choke.
The symbol pulsed again, and for a moment, he heard the gym's roar—the claw, the screams, Asher's laughter. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing it away, but the mark burned, and a whisper slithered through his mind: "You're already mine."
The school sparkled under the morning sun, its red-brick walls pristine, the lawn manicured, birds chirping in endless loops. Maya and Eli met at the front gate, their faces pale, eyes hollow. Neither spoke at first, the weight of the night pressing between them.
"Did you… dream it too?" Maya whispered, her voice barely audible over the chatter of students streaming past.
Eli nodded, his hand in his pocket, gripping the dagger's handle. "It wasn't a dream. It can't be."
They walked in, the hallway buzzing with life—lockers slamming, friends laughing, teachers barking at kids to tuck in their shirts. Everything was normal. Too normal. The air smelled of bleach and bubblegum, not sulfur or roses. The walls were smooth, no cracks, no oozing tar. But Maya's palm burned, and Eli's grip on the dagger tightened.
Then they saw her.
Clare.
She stood by her locker, laughing, her crystal necklace glinting in the fluorescent light. Her smile was soft, shy—the Clare they knew, not Lilith's cruel smirk. She was talking to someone, her voice light, teasing.
Asher.
His face was whole, no green fire, no porcelain cracks. He leaned against the locker, joking, his smile easy and human. He saw Maya and waved casually, like they were old friends. Clare turned, spotting them, and walked over, holding out a book. "Hey, Maya, you good? You look like you saw a ghost."
Maya froze, her blood running cold. The book was one she'd borrowed last week—before the dance, before the gate. She took it, her fingers brushing Clare's, expecting a burn, a pulse, anything. But Clare's hand was warm, normal. "Yeah," Maya managed, her voice hollow. "Just… tired."
Asher winked, his eyes catching the light, and for a split second, they flickered green.
Eli stepped closer, his voice low. "This can't be real."
Clare tilted her head, frowning. "You guys are acting weird. Everything okay?"
Maya nodded, her eyes flicking between Clare and Asher. "Fine," she lied, backing away.
Reece joined them in the cafeteria, his sleeve pulled down to hide the mark on his arm. He hadn't slept, hadn't stopped pacing since dawn. "You saw them?" he whispered, his voice tight. "Clare and Asher, just… chilling? Like nothing happened?"
Maya nodded, her palm still tingling. "It's too perfect. The school, the sun, everything."
Eli pulled the dagger from his backpack, keeping it low under the table. Its glow was faint, barely visible in the daylight, but it hummed when he pointed it toward Clare's table across the room. "This is real," he said. "And it knows something's wrong."
Reece glanced at his arm, the mark hidden but pulsing. "I got one too. A symbol. It… talks to me."
Maya's eyes widened. "Talks?"
"Not words," Reece said, his voice shaking. "Feelings. Like it wants me to do something. Join something."
They sat in silence, the cafeteria's chatter too loud, too normal. A girl laughed at a nearby table, her voice echoing Clare's from before the dance. A teacher walked by, his smile too wide, his eyes lingering on them too long. The air felt heavy, like breathing through wet cloth, and the sunlight streaming through the windows was too warm, too golden, like a stage light.
"We need to go back," Maya said finally. "The sanctum. The statue. It's the only place that makes sense."
Reece snorted, but his eyes were scared. "Back to that? You saw what happened."
Eli gripped the dagger. "The voices said the Bride fears the sword. We have to try."
The library was quiet, too quiet. The shelves stood tall, no chains, no forbidden books. The trapdoor was gone, the floor smooth and unblemished. Maya knelt, running her hands over the tiles, searching for the script from the key. Nothing. But her palm burned, and the air hummed faintly, like the sanctum was still there, hidden.
Eli held the dagger, its glow brighter now, pointing to a corner of the room. "It's here," he whispered. "It has to be."
Reece paced, his sleeve slipping to reveal the mark, now glowing faintly. "This is crazy. What if we're the crazy ones? What if it was a dream?"
Maya shook her head. "The key burned me. The dagger's real. And you've got that mark. This isn't a dream—it's a lie."
A shadow moved in the corner, too fast, too fluid. The air grew cold, and a whisper slithered through the room: "You can't hide from her." Maya spun, but the library was empty. The lights flickered, and for a moment, the shelves seemed to bend, their edges curling like black roses.
"We're not safe here," Eli said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes.
That afternoon, Maya slipped into the music room, needing silence, needing answers. The sun poured through the window, too warm, too perfect. She stared at it, willing it to flicker, to show her the blood moon instead. Nothing. But her palm burned, and the voice in her head returned: You were chosen. End her.
A single note rang out from the piano behind her. She froze. The bench was empty, the keys untouched. Another note followed, low and mournful, then a chord, discordant and wrong. She turned, her breath catching, and saw a shadow flicker across the keys, its edges sharp, like wings.
She backed toward the door, but the air grew heavy, and the sunlight dimmed, revealing a faint red glow. The piano played faster, a melody that wasn't music but a scream, a chant, a summoning. The voice in her head roared: Spill her blood. Now.
That night, Eli sat in his room, the dagger on his desk, its glow steady. He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. The ringing in his ears was constant now, Lilith's voice weaving through it: "It's not over." He opened his laptop, searching for anything—news, myths, anything about the school, the sanctum, the gate. Nothing. The internet was clean, too clean, every article about the school glowing with praise, every photo perfect.
He touched the dagger, and a vision hit him: the gym in flames, the claw reaching, Clare's eyes pleading before they turned purple. He gasped, pulling his hand back. The dagger's glow pulsed, and the room grew cold. A shadow moved in the corner, its edges curling like smoke. He blinked, and it was gone, but the dagger hummed louder, as if warning him.
Reece couldn't sit still. He paced his room, the mark on his arm burning, its whispers growing louder: Join her. Be free. He laughed, a broken sound, and punched the wall, his knuckles bleeding. The pain grounded him, but only for a moment. The mark pulsed, and he saw flashes—the gym, the roses, Asher's face melting into fire. He grabbed a marker, drawing over the symbol, trying to erase it, but it glowed through the ink, brighter, angrier.
He looked out his window. The street was quiet, the streetlights golden, not purple. But the air felt wrong, like it was watching him. He closed the curtains, but the mark burned, and the whispers laughed: "You're already hers."
The next morning, Maya, Eli, and Reece met in the school courtyard, their faces drawn, eyes hollow. The sun was too bright, the birds too loud. Clare passed by, laughing with friends, her necklace glinting. Asher trailed her, his smile easy, but his eyes lingered on Maya, and she swore they flickered green again.
"We need to find the sanctum," Maya said, her voice low. "It's the only way to know what's real."
Eli nodded, the dagger hidden in his jacket. "The dagger knows. It's trying to tell us something."
Reece pulled up his sleeve, revealing the mark, now darker, its claws sharper. "This thing's getting worse. I can feel it… pulling me."
Maya touched his arm, her burn mark mirroring his pain. "We fight it. Together."
They slipped into the library again, searching for the trapdoor. The air grew heavy, the lights flickering. A book fell from a shelf, its pages open to a drawing of the sanctum's statue, its sword raised, blood dripping from its eyes. The dagger in Eli's hand flared, and the floor trembled, revealing a faint outline of the trapdoor.
Maya knelt, pressing her burned palm to the tiles. The key's script glowed in her mind, and the voice roared: Spill her blood. End her. The trapdoor cracked open, and a cold wind rushed up, smelling of roses and ash. The sanctum was still there, waiting.
In the gym, Clare sat alone, her necklace pulsing faintly. She hummed a tune, soft and sad, her fingers tracing the crystal. Her eyes flickered, purple for a moment, then blue. She whispered, "Help me," her voice breaking, before her head snapped up, and Lilith's smile returned.
Asher appeared behind her, his face whole but his shadow wrong, curling like claws. "It's time," he said, his voice layered with that other presence. "The gate calls."
The floor trembled, and a red glow seeped through the tiles, faint but growing. The blood moon flickered in the skylight, a shadow passing over it.
Maya, Eli, and Reece descended the sanctum's steps, the dagger glowing brighter, the air thick with whispers: Blood of the turned. Blood of the chosen. The statue loomed, its cracked face weeping blood, its sword pointing to the pool. The runes on the walls pulsed, and the voice in Maya's head screamed: Now.
Eli raised the dagger, its light cutting through the dark. Reece's mark burned, and he clutched his arm, his eyes wild. "It's pulling me," he gasped. "I can't—"
Maya grabbed his hand, her burn mark flaring. "You're not hers. You're ours."
The pool glowed, red and blue, and the statue's eyes flared. A clawed hand reached from the pool, its talons dripping black tar. The air screamed, and the dagger hummed, its light pushing the claw back. Maya's vision blurred, the voice roaring: Spill her blood. End her.
The sanctum shook, and the trapdoor slammed shut above them. The claw reached higher, and Asher's laughter echoed from the gym, layered with that ancient voice: "The gate is open. The world will kneel."
The statue's blood tears fell faster, pooling in the basin. The dagger flared, and Maya screamed, her voice merging with the sanctum's whispers: "Clare! Fight her!"
Somewhere above, Clare's eyes flickered blue, and she whispered, "Maya…"
The blood moon pulsed, and the claw roared, its shadow swallowing the light.
To be continued…