Later That Night
James and Johnny waited until the common room had gone quiet. When they were sure everyone was asleep, they slipped out through the portrait hole and crept down the spiraling staircase into the dim corridors of the castle.
The walls loomed around them in the darkness, and the shadows danced as if they were alive.
"James," Johnny whispered, "I'm starting to think maybe we should've listened to Annie. This place is really creepy at night."
"Luminous," James murmured.
A bright blue light flared at the tip of his wand, casting long shadows down the hallway. They had only walked a few minutes when—
"Shhh. Did you hear that?"
James grabbed Johnny's arm and clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Nox."
The light on his wand went out instantly. The corridor plunged into darkness again.
Footsteps echoed in the distance—slow, deliberate, getting louder with each passing second.
"It must be Doublures—the caretaker," James whispered, heart pounding.
"Let's hide behind that knight statue!" Johnny suggested.
They crept toward a stone statue of a knight holding a broad shield. But as they crouched behind it, the statue turned its head and looked down at them.
James froze. He pressed a finger to his lips.
"Please don't say anything," he mouthed to the statue.
To their relief, the statue made no noise. Meanwhile, the caretaker's footsteps grew louder. He stopped just a few feet away, inspecting the corridor in silence. For a moment, it seemed he might turn and look directly behind the statue. But eventually, with a grunt, he moved on.
The boys waited a few extra seconds before exhaling.
"Phew. That was close," Johnny whispered, wiping sweat from his brow.
They rushed down the corridor and slipped into the old broom cupboard. Inside, they began searching for the rumored secret passage. Johnny tried random spells.
"Revio! Openioum! Po—uh… something!" he muttered, waving his wand.
Nothing worked.
After what felt like forever, the boys gave up and returned to their dormitory.
"That was a letdown," James sighed. "I guess we'll just have to ask the professor how he did it."
He flopped onto his bed, exhausted, and was asleep in minutes.
The Next Day
James and Johnny spent the entire day looking for the professor and brainstorming ways to unlock the passage.
"Let's just take one last look before we go ask him," James said. "Even if we find him, I doubt he'll tell us anything. He'll think we're up to no good."
"Well," Johnny grinned, "we are up to no good."
Back at the broom cupboard, they searched every crack and corner again. That's when Johnny spotted something odd.
"James! Look at this!"
He pointed to a set of faint symbols etched into the wall—strange combinations of lines and circles that shimmered faintly in the light.
"They almost look like the runes from the old gates," he said.
James stepped closer. Something about the markings felt familiar. Without thinking, he reached out and touched them.
The moment his fingers brushed the runes, his pupils turned cold gray, and he began to speak in a trance:
"I am the moon, you are my sea,Your love the tide that sets me free,Under your spell I'm meant to be,And by your eyes I am set free."
As the final word left his lips, the wall trembled—and collapsed.
A dark stone tunnel yawned open before them.
"Bloody hell, James! How did you do that?" Johnny gasped.
"No idea," James replied calmly.
Without another word, they stepped inside—and disappeared into the shadows beyond.
Navigating the secret passages turned out to be far more difficult than James and Johnny had imagined. The tunnels twisted and turned, splitting off in every direction like a labyrinth. Some led to sealed doors, others to forgotten corners of the castle.
After what felt like hours of guessing and wandering, they stumbled upon a narrow corridor with a grated vent. Through it, they could hear voices—faint but unmistakably familiar.
"It's the headmistress's office," James whispered, crouching low.
They listened.
"I hear they're going to strike again," said the headmistress, her voice sharp and low. "This time in London. We're very close to achieving our goal. You heard the prophecy—change is coming. We've hidden long enough. It's time to be free."
"Yes," replied Professor Vine. "He will bring us into the new age."
James and Johnny exchanged a nervous glance. The tone of the conversation was strange—almost cult-like.
"How's the selection of the new blood coming along?" asked the headmistress.
"That boy with the royal blood—and Dorian Englewood—show the most promise," Vine responded calmly.
The more they listened, the more disturbed James became. They were talking about students—targeting them. James felt a pit in his stomach.
" Johnny, we need to go," he whispered urgently. "This sounds dangerous. We shouldn't be listening to this."
They crept away from the vent and eventually found an exit. It opened into the quiet school library, where they found Annie hunched over a large, ancient book.
"Where did you two come from?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
James smirked. "Nowhere you'd know of."
"Oh please, act mysterious all you want," Annie said, rolling her eyes.
"What are you even doing here? It's the weekend," Johnny asked with a look of disapproval.
"I was doing research—about the passages," Annie said, straightening up. "I found something."
She turned the book toward them.
"This castle used to belong to King Edward III. Merlin was his royal wizard, and according to this, he built secret passages all throughout the school—for reasons no one really knows. Each entrance was sealed with enchanted runes. And apparently, the passages were designed as a maze... to trap something in—or to keep someone out."
She hesitated, clearly embarrassed. "Well, that's what the book says anyway. It might be a… children's tale."
James leaned over the pages. "Even if it is, it explains why we got so lost."
After chatting with Annie for a while, James left and headed back to the common room. On the way, he crossed paths with Professor Gray.
"Professor!" James called. "Could I have a word?"
"Ah, Mister Arcturus. How can I be of service?" the professor said warmly.
"It's about the secret passages."
Professor Gray paused, blinking. "What secret passages?"
James frowned. "The ones you showed me… you don't remember?"
Gray blinked, then something in his gaze seemed to flicker.
"I once had a cat," the professor said abruptly.
"His name was Tom. He was adventurous and fearless. One day, while we were walking near a river, he saw something splashing in the water. He got curious, went closer… and a banshee dragged him under. I never saw him again."
"A banshee, sir?" James asked, confused.
"They usually live in deep waters. Why this one was there that day, I'll never know. But it was the end of my dear Tom."
The professor took out a silver pocket watch, then tucked it away. His tone shifted.
"Take care, Mister Arcturus."
He walked off, leaving James even more puzzled. Something was wrong. Everyone was acting strange. But if one thing was clear, it was this:
He needed to investigate. And he needed to do it alone.
That night, wand in hand, James re-entered the passage. This time it felt even more eerie—heavier, as if the castle itself were watching.
He crept forward, alert to every sound.
Eventually, the corridor opened to reveal a massive door, towering above him. It was carved with two enormous skeletons, each holding a sword pointed skyward. Faded charms and protective sigils were plastered across its surface, but black smoke leaked from its edges. The air around it was cold and foul.
James stared.
"Well, this is definitely trouble," he muttered. "I should leave."
He turned to go—but whispers crept through the passage, soft at first, then rising into screeches.
"Come, come, come on in…" a voice rasped.
James froze. The shadows stirred. His feet wouldn't move. A black fog seeped from beneath the door, curling around his ankles, pulling at him like hands.
His mind screamed to run, but his body disobeyed.
Eyes glazed, he stepped forward. He raised his hand and touched the twin handles—cold as ice. Slowly, he pulled the door open.
A sudden sting pricked at James's face, like hundreds of tiny needles jabbing his skin. Blinking, dazed, he realized he was already inside the room. His steps were heavy, almost dreamlike, as if he were moving underwater.
Then he felt it—heat.
It radiated from his cloak. Reaching inside, James yelped, "Ouch!" as he grabbed his wand, which had turned a glowing yellow, pulsing with warmth.
"Bloody hell… what's wrong with it?" he muttered.
The pain snapped him out of his haze. Clarity returned—just in time to see the horror around him.
The room was shrouded in blackness, faintly lit by red crystals embedded in the walls. Along one side were rows of cages, stacked neatly like some twisted form of organization. At the center stood a massive chest, ancient and iron-bound.
"Lumos," James whispered.
A faint light illuminated the room, revealing more than he wanted to see.
"...ooh…" came a weak whimper from one of the cages.
James's heart skipped. He moved forward, cautiously, the light of his wand shaking as his hand trembled.
"Hello?" he called softly. "Is anyone there?"
He pressed his face against the cold iron bars. Inside, children stared back at him. Their bodies were bruised, some missing limbs, others with open wounds and decaying flesh. Their school uniforms clung to them like grim reminders—they were students. From his school.
James stumbled back, hand over his mouth. He turned and vomited in the corner.
But then, through the nausea and fear, something hardened inside him.
"I have to save them," he whispered to himself, jaw clenched.
"Lumos Maxima!" he cast, and a blinding light flooded the chamber, casting away the shadows completely.
Now he could see them all. Dozens of them—injured, terrified, forgotten.
"Run! Run away!" a pale girl gasped. Her hair was falling out in patches, one eye missing. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was laced with terror.
"No," James said, shaking. "I can help. I promise."
He knelt and began casting unlocking spells on the cages. "Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice raw.
More children began shouting.
"Run!""It's waking up!""Please, you have to go!"
James spun around—and saw it.
The chest in the center of the room was opening.
A child with silver hair emerged from the box, eyes wide, expression blank.
"Hello? Who's there?" she asked.
Silence. Then the temperature dropped. Smoke poured from the chest, curling up around the girl's body.
Bang!
Where once stood a pale, silver-haired child now rose a monstrous figure nearly eight feet tall. Its skin was mottled stone-gray and deep violet—rough and uneven, stitched together from rock and shadow. Four elongated arms twisted from its torso, ending in jagged claws—too long, too sharp, stained dark at the tips.
Its face split grotesquely, revealing a gaping maw lined with massive tusks. Six red eyes blinked out of sync, watching everything at once.
It didn't walk—it flickered, dragging shadows behind it. And when it opened its mouth—
—it laughed.
But not like a child.
Like something ancient.
And hungry.
James stood frozen, fear clawing at his insides. His mind raced. There was no way he could defeat this thing. Too powerful. Too monstrous. But the children—he couldn't leave them.
Then an idea struck.
What if he could lure it away? Lead it straight to the professors? Maybe, just maybe, they could stop it.
It was a gamble.
But the only chance they had.
He shot fire from his wand at the creature, then ran for the door.
The creature was faster.
With a blur of motion, it vanished—then reappeared right in front of him, blocking his escape.
Its massive claw swiped through the air.
Time slowed.
James's heart thundered.
He barely raised his wand before the blow landed.
He flew through the air, slamming into the ground. Pain exploded in his side. Breathing became a struggle.
No time to scream.
The creature advanced again.
This is it, James thought. The end…
Then—warmth.
A strange glow pulsed from his hand.
The runes—the same ones that opened the passage—spread across his skin like white fire.
Bang!
A brilliant light exploded.
A deafening crack—
—and then darkness.
James felt nothing.
No sound.
No breath.
No pain.
Just cold.
Then, somewhere far away, a voice called his name.
"James…"
A second voice, closer.
Whispering.
"Wake up, boy. You're not supposed to be here."
In the pitch-black silence, a laugh echoed.
Not human.
Ancient and Hungry.
And suddenly, James realized—
he wasn't alone anymore.