Sam hesitated, glancing between Celestine's terrified face and the treasure glinting on the floor.
Between Celestine's fairy beauty and granny's captivating bar of gold, which one was more precious?
Finally, greed won.
"Come on, boys," Sam smirked, pocketing the syringe. "Let's undress this old lady."
One boy still clutched Celestine's arms in a vice grip while Sam and the other two advanced on the old granny. Sam's eyes gleamed with greed.
"Pick it up," Sam barked at his men, pointing at the glowing gold bar on the floor.
The Old Granny only smiled, stepping back on her cane with a knowing tilt of her head. "Are you sure about that, Sam?" Her voice rasped but carried an eerie authority.
One boy crouched, stretching his hand toward the bar. His fingertips brushed the surface—
WHACK!
The cane lashed down on his fingers like lightning. Pain shot through his wrist, and he yelped, clutching his hand.
"Ouch!"
"Pick it up, idiot!" Sam snapped, furious.
Another boy roared and leapt at the Granny midair like a lion pouncing on a gazelle.
The Old Granny didn't flinch. Her fist shot forward. A crimson glow shimmered around her knuckles as the boy was pushed backwards, tumbling across the tiles with a crash.
Celestine's eyes widened in awe. 'Raho… that's you, isn't it?
Raho's voice echoed softly in her thoughts: "Watch closely, little one. This is only a fraction of what I can do."
The first boy, stubborn, lunged again. But the gold bar slid across the floor as if pulled by invisible strings, drifting back to Granny's feet.
He dived to snatch it, but it drifted further away.
"You'll need to try harder than that, child," the Old Granny croaked, grinning.
Frustrated, he chargedat her, swinging wild punches. Each blow was casually parried with the cane. The hallway echoed with sharp taps as wood met flesh. At last, he wrenched the cane free from her grip—triumph flaring in his eyes.
He swung.
Granny's withered hand shot up, catching the cane mid-strike. Her other hand clamped his wrist in a grip like iron. His smirk vanished, replaced by terror.
"Sam!" The boy holding Celestine shouted. "Stop watching them and grab the damn gold!"
Sam blinked back to his senses. He lunged for the golden bar, greedy fingers closing around it.
The Old Granny threw the boy to the side with unfathomable strength. She turned and saw Sam just about to do it.
Sam blinked. He looked up and cursed the sight in front of him.
'Oh Shit.'
The Old Granny's face hovered inches from his, her eyes blazing red, glowing like coals in the dim hallway.
"Hello, Sam."
A strangled scream tore out of his throat as he stumbled back, collapsing on his butt. His entire body trembled as though the floor itself had betrayed him.
"Lemme show you how it's done Sam," the Granny said playfully. She hurled the gold bar at him.
Sam scrambled up, backing away. His hands refused to touch it.
"Pick it up, Sam!" the boy restraining Celestine shouted.
Sam shook his head violently. "No, buddy. This woman's a witch. We need to get out of here!" He turned and bolted.
He only made it a few steps before his foot slid, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Come on Sam," the Granny cooed, tapping her cane against the tiles as she advanced. "You were supposed to undress me for the gold. Why are you running?"
Sam crawled desperately, refusing to look back. "I don't want your cursed gold, you witch!"
The boy holding Celestine suddenly let go and bolted in the opposite direction, vanishing down the corridor.
Sam glanced back—but the Granny was gone.
He looked up and only to be confused.
Celestine stood tall in front of him, Granny's cane in her hand, her eyes glimmering with a faint golden light.
She tapped the cane against the floor. Tap. The sound reverberated like a drumbeat in his skull.
She smiled coldly. "How about I UNDRESS you, Sam?"
His heart stuttered. His knees buckled.
"Look.I'm sorry!" he begged, groveling on the tiles. "I was only kidding!"
"I don't think so," Celestine said, looming over him.
The cane rose high, glowing faintly with crimson and gold. She brought it down with deadly momentum.
WHACK!
Sam's scream pierced the hallway—
And he jolted awake.
His eyes flew open. He was sitting upright at his desk, sweat dripping down his temple. The classroom buzzed with whispers. Every student was staring at him, wide-eyed. Mr. Watson, their history teacher, glared down at him.
"Sam, are you quite alright?" the teacher asked coldly.
Sam blinked. He was back in class. His gang sat nearby, staring at him in confusion. His gaze snapped to the back—Celestine was sitted beside Luke, the two smiling. He gulped and turned to the teacher.
"What… happened?" Sam asked loudly.
"I suppose you've been sleeping in my class, Mr. Sam," Mr. Watson said sternly. "Perhaps a weekend detention will wake you up."
Sam's jaw dropped. "Weekend detention? But today's Thursday!"
Laughter erupted from the class. One of his goons leaned over and hissed, "Bro, today's Friday. We are in the middle of the last lesson of the week."
Sam sat frozen, dumbstruck.
The bell rang and the students giggled in excitement. Mr. Watson picked his books and looked at the students.
" Okay students. That marks the end of today's session. Mr. Sam make sure you see me after this. Class dismissed." He said and walked out.
Sam just sat there, trembling as everyone filed out of the classroom excited about the weekend.
At the doorway, Celestine turned her head one last time.Her eyes met with Sam's and she winked.
>>>>