Gwen and Horace walked side by side down the school's stone path, their footsteps echoing faintly in the evening hush as they made their way toward the admin building. Gwen's brows were drawn together, her expression thoughtful.
"I wonder why we're being called by Mr. Hance," she said finally, breaking the silence.
Horace gave a shrug, "How am I supposed to know why Mr. Hance is calling us? I didn't do anything bad this week."
The way he said it made Gwen's eyes narrow slightly, as if she could already tell he was trying to convince himself. Horace's mind, meanwhile, quickly replayed the questionable things he had done earlier in the week.
"I have a feeling this is about the Phantom Lord," Gwen muttered, her tone sharper now. "I've always told him to stay low-key, but he just wouldn't listen."
Horace rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "You, always acting like a mother."
They reached the tall doors of the admin building, pausing just a moment to calm themselves before stepping inside. They made their way to Mr Hance's office, the scent of old paper and faint cologne lingered in the air as they were greeted by Mr. Hance's warm smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Hance," they chorused, voices mixing together.
He gave a small nod of acknowledgment and gestured for them to take the seats in front of his desk. The two obeyed quietly, though Horace tapped his foot nervously while Gwen kept her composure.
"I suppose the both of you are in your last year," Mr. Hance said warmly, folding his hands together on the table.
They both nodded, Gwen's voice soft as she added, "Yes."
But then his eyes shifted to Horace, staring at him a little too long. The gaze was enough to make Horace's thoughts spiral "did I do something that got out already?"
"How are your preparations for college?" Mr. Hance asked lightly.
"Well, Mr. Ha—" Gwen started politely, but Horace cut her off, earning himself a glare.
"You called us here to talk about something else. I suppose it isn't about our preparations for college or academics, right?" Horace said, leaning back in his chair with a defensive look.
Mr. Hance's smile dimmed, his expression turning slightly more serious. He nodded, reclined further into his seat, and then asked, "Where's your friend?" His eyes locked on them, his tone leaving no space for hesitation.
"Which friend?" Gwen asked, playing dumb. The way she said it carried a touch of sarcasm, enough to make Horace chuckle under his breath before quickly clearing his throat when Mr. Hance's eyes snapped to him.
"The friend I usually see hanging out with you both," Mr. Hance clarified. "I asked for the three of you to come, but only the two of you are here."
"Oh Allan. Um… we didn't see him," Gwen answered truthfully. They really hadn't seen Allan since after the tests.
Mr. Hance's next question was heavy, cutting into the air like a knife: "Is he human?"
"Yes, he is," Horace answered immediately, a little too quickly.
Mr. Hance narrowed his eyes, studying him carefully for any signs of lying, but Horace's face stayed unreadable. He looked as though he believed every word he said.
"Is this about the Phantom Lord?" Gwen pressed, unable to keep quiet any longer.
Instead of answering, Mr. Hance dismissed them with a flick of his hand. They didn't bother tarrying and made their way out, though Gwen's mind was already spinning.
Left alone, Mr. Hance leaned further back in his seat, his face shadowed in thought. Allan… he looked human, yes, but something about him wasn't right. And since Mr. Hance had known Gwen and Horace for years, he knew one thing for sure Gwen never made friends with the few humans who studied at this school.
A few minutes later, Mr. Hance rose from his desk and made his way toward the principal's office, his thoughts heavy.
"Elaine," Gwen called when she spotted her walking across the field.
Elaine stopped, turning to their direction, she changed her path walking before standing in front of them, her eyes darting uneasily between Gwen and Horace. She still wasn't fully comfortable around them especially Horace but at least now it was bearable.
"You called me?" Elaine asked quietly.
"Yes. Have you seen Allan?" Gwen's head darted around, scanning the crowd.
"No. I last saw him at the dining hall," Elaine said, noticing Gwen's expression which was bordering on ahger. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing to worry about," Horace answered too casually, as though they were talking about the weather.
Gwen scowled, frustration lacing her voice. "Your friend should learn how to stop disappearing from one place to another." She hated going on endless searches for Allan.
"I don't think he's anywhere far," Elaine said softly. "I could help the both of you look for him." It felt like the least she could do, even though Horace's tone had tried to make it seem like nothing was wrong.
"Whatever," Gwen muttered, already walking ahead, her stride fast and hot with irritation.
"She meant yes. She's just too shy to say it," Horace explained to Elaine with a grin before jogging slightly to keep up with Gwen's long strides. Elaine followed quickly after.
********
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the thick woods not far from the campus, Allan's back slammed against a tree trunk as Kyle held him by the collar.
"And what is this about?" Allan asked coldly, his eyes narrowing.
"You're the Phantom Lord," Kyle hissed, his grip tightening. His expression was sharp, deadly serious.
"So what?" Allan said flatly, not even bothering to deny it.
Kyle chuckled darkly. "And you're so nonchalant about it."
"What should I do then?" Allan's tone grew sharp, almost mocking. "Should I go on my knees and beg you to keep it a secret?" His eyes glinted dangerously.
Seeing Kyle remain silent, Allan leaned closer, his words dripping with threat. "I have other ways of making sure you keep your mouth shut." With that, he broke Kyle's grip from his shirt, his strength enough that it could have shattered a normal human's bones.
But Kyle wasn't human. He was a vampire.
Allan straightened his collar, a maniacal smile etching across his face.
"What do you have with Elaine?" Kyle demanded, voice laced with anger.
"Not your business," Allan shot back, his patience already thinning.
"Why is your mark on her?" Kyle pressed, his tone sharper, refusing to let go of the subject.
"And why do you care if my mark is on her?" Allan countered, answering the question with another.
Kyle's anger began to boil. "What do you have with her?" he asked again, fists trembling.
"Once again not your business," Allan said, turning to walk away.
But Kyle grabbed him hard, swinging him back and landing a punch to his jaw strong enough to draw blood. He landed another, his vampire strength fueling every blow.
Allan's laugh was sharp, dark. The next second, his own fist slammed against Kyle's arm with so much force the crack of bone echoed through the woods.
The fight exploded into chaos. They were relentless, trading hit after hit, each one trying to break the other. Leaves scattered, branches cracked under the force of their battle.
The fight took a different turn when Kyle's elbow came crashing down on Allan's skull with a sickening crack as he had used enough vampire strength. The sound of bone splitting filled the air, skin tearing open as blood streamed down Allan's head, soaking his neck, face and shirt. Yet even with blood rushing profusely, Allan only laughed louder, darker, more unhinged.
Then his right hand began to shift. Skin darkened, veins pulsed black, his fingers elongating into a terrifying, skeletal claw. Half his hand looked almost translucent, an eerie glow beneath the skin. His nails curled abnormally long, like blades ready to tear.
With speed that outmatched the vampire, Allan struck relentlessly. Each time Kyle tried to land a blow, Allan's body flickered becoming see-through, his form ghostly, passing through the hit.
It was the true ability of a Phantom Lord.
Within moments, Allan had Kyle pinned hard to the ground. His clawed hand pierced into Kyle's chest, stopping just short of his heart.
But then—
A loud gasp cut through the clearing.
Allan's head whipped to the side. Standing at the edge of the trees was Elaine, her eyes wide, her mouth frozen open in shock. Beside her were Gwen and Horace, their faces caught between confusion and wonder.
And for the first time that evening, Allan hesitated. His hand trembled where it hovered inside Kyle's chest, his glowing claws a breath away from ripping the vampire's heart. For a moment, his maniacal grin faltered as his eyes locked with Elaine's.
And then, slowly, the smile returned darker this time