EPISODE FOUR: THE BLOODY NIGHT

Olivia

The mangy beast’s snarl erupted from its throat like a low rumble of thunder, sending vibrations through the air as its hulking form inched closer, muscles rippling with predatory grace. Viscous tendrils of black smoke curled around its frame, forming an ominous shroud, while its glowing red eyes bore into us with an intelligence that made my skin crawl.

A Hellhound. Foul and monstrous, it was a twisted abomination, resembling a Werewolf yet far more horrific, both predator and remnant of a forgotten humanity. The knowledge that it was once flesh and blood, a person like us, fueled my fear as Hector's harsh curse cut through the tension, his grip on my arm a frantic attempt to pull me back. Claire strained to hoist the paralyzed Luke off the ground, his hands pressed against his ears as if blocking out a sound only he could hear. My limbs were frozen by dread, but instinct kicked in, and I reached for my Weapon, only to be met with the stark realization that my sword—a lifeline meant to be at my side—was left abandoned in my dorm.

As my heart raced and my mind buzzed with frantic thoughts of escape, I knew the dorm was just behind us, a tantalizing option, but the Hellhound's relentless speed was a terrifying truth. With a ghastly howl that tore through the air like a banshee’s wail, a sound that mixed the screech of nails on a chalkboard with a guttural, absolutely draining Human scream, the beast lowered its body, coiling like a spring ready to unleash chaos. The world froze for a fleeting heartbeat before the Hellhound surged forward, a blur of lethal intent. It barreled into Hector, its claws raking through flesh with vicious ease, carving a deep gash across his chest. The sickening squelch of meat being torn apart filled the air, and I was violently hurled aside, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs as I hit the ground hard.

Hector screamed in pain, struggling to keep the hellish creature at bay, fighting against its gnashing teeth aimed greedily at his throat. I scrambled to find something—anything—useful amid the chaos. My fingers closed around a loose brick, sharp-edged and heavy with potential. With desperation fueling my strength, I hurled it at the beast, but it soared past its head, exploding against the ground with a splintering crack. Panic surged as I brandished another brick, sending it crashing into the Hellhound's cranium with a sickening thunk. For a fleeting moment, the creature faltered, blinking in confusion as it shook its head, giving me just enough time to look around for anything to turn the tide.

Then it focused on me, its scarlet gaze igniting a primal terror within. The hellish grin split its maw, drool dripped from its jagged teeth as it staggered toward me, hungry with bloodlust. My heart raced, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

“Use your magic,” a deep voice suddenly rang out in my brain, reverberating as if it were bouncing off of non-existent walls.

“Khxlynd’r.” The name brought clarity as a swell of power surged around me. I suddenly recalled an ancient incantation I had only barely learned.

“Infernus ignis!” I shouted defiantly, my hand shooting up as the monster leapt through the air, its body a dark missile. Fiery tendrils spiraled from my fingers, igniting the space between us just as the Hellhound descended. Its flesh ignited in flames, illuminating its grotesque features in a hellish glow, only to crash into me with an unforgiving impact, knocking me brutally backward. The searing heat singed my skin, my uniform setting ablaze as we collided and rolled across the ground. I hit the grass with a sense of chaotic disarray, my head colliding with a sharp rock that immediately drew blood on impact. The beast staggered in front of me, shaking off the flames like a maddened wolf shedding water, dissipating the fire in a puff of thick, acrid smoke. It stood, unharmed, a haunting visage fixated on Hector and me, both of us sprawled and wounded on the ground.

Hector gasped beside me, his blood pooling around him as the beast turned its gaze to Claire, still desperately dragging the entranced Luke. Claire's face contorted in sheer terror as the Hellhound's predatory instincts kicked in; it lunged at her with a speed that defied reason. There was no time to react as the beast's jagged teeth sank into her ankle, her scream piercing the night like a siren's call of death. Blood spilled from the horrendous wound, mixing with the dirt beneath her, the cruel tug of the beast pulling her toward its grasp. She kicked and struggled, desperation shining in her eyes, but the Hellhound was locked on, a beast born of the shadows and hunger, intent on claiming her as its next victim. The sound of her cries echoed around us as the scene became a cacophony of despair, each anguished plea a reminder of the brutality we faced against this merciless force of darkness.

The flames of my uniform licked at my skin, sending searing pain through my body, and my vision began to darken like I was drowning in ink.

“Fulmen!” a voice cut through the haze, shattering my disorientation. My eyes fluttered open, darting around in desperation to locate the source. Emerging from the shadows, several hazy figures appeared, like a ray of hope in the darkness. Then, with a crack that resonated through the air, a streak of bright purple lightning cleaved through the shadows, illuminating the frantic scene. It struck the beast right in its side, sending the monstrous creature sprawling and releasing its grip on Claire’s ankle. It thudded into the grass, sizzling as it landed, injured but still very much alive.

“Headmaster Volcan,” I breathed, the name slipping from my lips like a prayer, as I turned to see the Elf standing tall amidst the chaos. His black hair flowed back from his face, accentuating the fierce determination in his piercing eyes, while a stunning silver blade glinted menacingly in his grip. As he stood before us, our unexpected savior, an unsettling fragility clung to him like shadows at dusk. His skin, a pallid hue reminiscent of faded parchment, seemed to absorb the very light around him, while deep shadows settled beneath his eyes, which held the weight of untold burdens. Despite his resolute posture, a tremor of vulnerability radiated from him, as if the slightest provocation could shatter the facade of strength he desperately tried to maintain. His lips were chapped and colorless, and with each labored breath, it felt as if he might dissolve into the air, leaving only the echoes of his valiant stand behind.

“Don’t try to talk,” came a soothing, deep voice. I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, then an overwhelming cooling sensation washed over me. I turned to find fifth-year Dex spraying a frosty cloud from his palms, extinguishing the flames that had ravaged my uniform and skin.

In the distance, Chloe worked tirelessly, tending to Hector’s grim wounds, her face a mask of concentration. I fought against a profound numbness, attempting to rise, but Dex’s grip tightened on my arm.

“You’re in no condition to walk,” he urged, his voice edged with worry. I knew he was right; my skin was charred, blood seeping from where I had struck my head, but the pain had dulled itself. My friends were the only thing on my mind.

“I’m fine,” I protested, shaking off his hand and rushing toward Claire. Dex followed close behind. We dropped at Claire’s side. Second-year Bruce was already beside her, his hands wrapped around her mangled ankle, which twisted at an unnatural angle, her face contorted in agony.

“Get him!” Bruce barked, nodding toward Luke, who lay unconscious nearby. Claire’s limp form was scooped up into Bruce’s arms. With a surge of adrenaline, I grabbed hold of Luke’s right arm, while Dex grabbed his left, pulling him a few feet behind Bruce, my muscles straining under the weight of urgency.

Yet, the Hellhound began to stir again, its monstrous form rising as its eyes locked onto the five of us with terrifying intent. Then, faster than I could comprehend, a black blur shot past, and I heard a sickening slice. Volcan appeared before me, his sleek frame poised as he split the beast's flesh. The Hellhound yelped as a thick spray of deep red blood splattered across the ground, painting the grass in a macabre tribute to violence. He stood, a steadfast guardian between us and certain death. Turning briefly to meet my gaze, he offered a soft smile, his blade slick with the creature’s blood, but that moment was fleeting as I saw his strength waver.

“Headmaster!” I shouted, panic rising as his legs faltered, pure terror blooming in his eyes as the Hellhound readied to strike again.

“Run! I’ll be fine,” he commanded—his voice a mix of authority and pain.

But his body betrayed him, trembling and growing weaker while his blade fell from his grasp, clattering against the earth like the final toll of a bell. He dropped to his knees, placing his hands over his ears in desperation.

With a chill creeping up my spine, I dropped Luke’s hand and rushed to Headmaster Volcan’s side, grabbing his arm in an attempt to support him. The moment our skin touched, a strange, electric sensation coursed through me—like magnets repelling and attracting all at once.

The Hellhound, blood still drenching its fur, lunged toward us with an otherworldly hunger, teeth bared and gleaming grotesquely under the moonlight.

“Get down!” I shouted, a primal scream clawing its way up my throat. But I was too slow. Before I could react, the hellish beast surged forward, unstoppable and relentless. The world around me began to blur—the last thing I saw was the glint of its blood-soaked fangs, aimed with vicious intent directly at my neck. Time seemed to slow as agony crashed over me like a tidal wave, a brutal, bone-crushing snap reverberating in my body. Then, darkness consumed me, swallowing the screams of horror that lingered, haunting the stillness of the night.

Hector

“Fulmen!” A powerful voice boomed, reverberating through the crimson twilight, sending a shiver down my spine. Suddenly, a blinding flash of purple light whizzed above my head, followed by a sharp yelp that pierced the heavy air.

I tried to turn my head to see if Olivia was okay, but a searing pain shot through my chest, anchoring me to the ground. The Hellhound had left its mark, its claws tearing into my flesh like a devilish knife, and the gaping wound was oozing a dark, smoky essence that curled and twisted into the night sky.

“Let me help you,” a gentle voice broke through the haze of pain.

Squinting against the aftermath of the blinding light, I locked eyes with Chloe, the student body vice president. Her expression was tense and focused as she knelt beside me, her delicate hands hovering over my wound. A brilliant white light streamed from her fingertips like liquid hope, dispersing the putrid smoke and dulling the agony that clawed at my senses.

Nearby, Dex had managed to douse the flames that engulfed Olivia, his hand gripping her arm tightly. She was clearly shaken. I tried to lift my head, desperate to check on them.

“Don’t move,” Chloe commanded, her voice firm despite her fragile appearance.

Holding my breath, I obeyed, feeling her energy pulse stronger, the glow from her hands intensifying into a radiant orb. A tight burning sensation flared in my chest, and I gritted my teeth.

“There,” she gasped, her hands falling to her sides.

With great effort, I turned my gaze down; the gash remained—a jagged tear in my skin—but thankfully, the wicked black smoke had vanished, and the bleeding had ceased, leaving a faint glow that slowly began to seal the wound.

“It still stings, but it’s manageable,” I muttered, a touch of gratitude mingling with the pain. “Thank you.”

“We got here just in time,” Chloe asserted, pulling me to my feet, her determination unwavering. “Headmistress Victoria said there would be trouble.”

“A few minutes earlier would have been a lifesaver,” I shot back, trying to lighten the mood despite the throbbing.

Just then, Olivia's urgent shout sliced through the tension.

“Headmaster!”

Her voice carried across the lawn, and Chloe and I exchanged looks, concern knitting our brows as we whipped our heads toward the source of the call.

Olivia sprinted toward Volcan, who was teetering helplessly, while Dex struggled with an unconscious Luke, dragging him back toward the dorms. In their midst, the Hellhound crouched low, its massive, muscled body bristling as it readied itself to strike.

Its eyes flicked back and forth wildly from Volcan to Olivia to Luke before locking onto Olivia, pulsating with predatory hunger. With a feral roar, it lunged, its jagged fangs gleaming menacingly in the dim light.

“No!” I screamed, the word ripping from my throat as I tore through the air, heart racing with fear. My chest burned as I pushed myself faster, but the Hellhound was a blur, its teeth sinking savagely into Olivia's neck with a sickening crunch that sounded like cracking glass. She and the beast went tumbling backward, her body being mercilessly thrown to the ground. A cold wave of nausea gripped me as I witnessed the horrific scene unfold—her lifeless form lay in a pool of crimson, the vibrant blood cascading in grotesque rivulets.

The Hellhound, satisfied with its kill, rose and turned its malevolent gaze back to the still-stumbling Volcan. Olivia’s fresh blood dripped from its mouth. It didn’t look real; it didn’t feel real. Her blood dripped a bright opaque red that looked more like paint than actual blood.

“This can't be real,” I muttered desperately, grappling with the surreal horror before me.

The Hellhound slowly crept forward, eyes locked in concentration, and then, suddenly it stopped in its tracks. Its face contorted into a mixture of panic and confusion, and it began trying desperately to wipe its dripping snout on the ground. Unsuccessful, it began clawing at its face, its claws raking through fur and flesh, tearing gashes that elicited piercing, shrill howls of raw desperation and pure agony.

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Then, as if summoned from the depths of nightmares, Olivia’s body began to rise. Her eyes opened, burning with an ominous red, matching the vivid blood streaming from her disfigured neck—the same color as the night of her premonition. The bright liquid rose with her, defying the world’s laws, spiraling in the air like liquid fire. Gory shapes formed atop her head—two fearsome horns emerging as swirling shadows of blood as her body rewrote the rules of life and death.

She floated off the ground, her limbs seemingly puppeteered by some malevolent force, head lolling eerily as if disconnected. Raising an arm, she reached towards the Hellhound, which continued its chaotic thrashing, bloodied and desperate. Her blood, like a swarm of serpents, snaked toward the creature, invading its mouth, ears, and nose, forcing it to choke and retch as agony contorted its features.

Her body quivered with dark power, and the Hellhound began to crumble in on itself, its yelps of torment turning into a wretched, inhuman scream. With a sickening cacophony of snapping bones and rending flesh, its limbs twisted grotesquely at impossible angles. One final, soul-chilling shriek echoed through the night before the creature’s spine shattered, leaving it a broken mass.

Olivia lowered her arm, and the Hellhound plummeted to the ground, dead.

As the blood began to retreat from the creature's body, the bright, serpentine stream coiled upwards, tracing a path along Olivia's arm before plunging back into the gaping wound on her neck. The crimson liquid pulsed with a life of its own, weaving its way through her skin as if it were reclaiming its rightful place. Gradually, the jagged edges of the wound melded together, and with a sharp, audible snap, her neck realigned, bones clicking back into place as though the pain had never existed.

Then, drained and bewildered, Olivia collapsed to the ground, the soft thud of her body against the earth echoing in the stillness around her, as a strange, uncanny calm settled over the scene.

“Olivia!” I called, urgency propelling me forward as I sprinted to her. My heart raced as my eyes frantically scanned her neck, searching for the telltale wounds where the hellhound had clamped down, but there was nothing—no gash, no bruise, not even a hint of distress on her smooth skin. Beneath the charred fabric of her uniform, her skin was bright and untouched by the flames that had earlier ravaged her. I pressed my fingers to her pulse, feeling the steady thump beneath her skin, and gently cupped my hand over her mouth, catching the faint warmth of her breath against my palm. Relief flooded through me; she was alive.

Gathering her into my arms, I cradled her tightly, feeling the fabric of her uniform press against the reopened wound on my chest, a reminder of our shared peril.

“Quickly,” came Volcan’s strained voice from the shadows, urgency laced with desperation as he limped toward us. “We must get inside.”

With a last glance back at the chaos we were escaping, I turned, determination steeling my resolve. I had to protect Olivia; I wouldn’t fail her again.

Niles

I sat in silence on the damp, moss-covered forest floor, the rich aroma of earth and decaying leaves enveloping me like a cloak. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, savoring the scents of pine and wet soil that filled the air. Today, the forest felt eerily subdued. Normally, it would resonate with the symphony of chirping crickets and rustling leaves, yet all I could hear was my own breathing—a reminder of my unnatural existence in a world that thrived in the light.

My thoughts, however, kept drifting back to my encounter with Olivia just hours earlier, her laughter still echoing in my mind like a haunting melody. We had been nestled on a solitary park bench, the gentle sway of the willow branches centering us in our own little universe, as the teachers had vanished with haste, which felt like more than just a mere coincidence. I was drawn to her, the way the dappled sunlight danced across her hair, each black strand glimmering as if it held the warmth of day itself—such vitality in contrast to the cold emptiness that coursed through my veins. Yet, as I fought the compulsion surging within me, I knew my body was a treacherous ally, gnawing at my moral resolve.

The deer I had feasted on earlier had merely dulled my hunger, leaving me still yearning for a sustenance far richer and more intoxicating. When she reached out her hand to help me, delicate and inviting, I felt a magnetic pull toward her warmth. But, gripped by an intoxicating fear, I abruptly recoiled; I couldn’t let her skin brush against mine, couldn’t risk the irresistible allure of her pulsing life force calling me to abandon reason. I didn’t want to hurt her.

I let out a deep sigh, exhaling the tension binding me to the world outside my hidden sanctuary. The cool night air whispered through the towering pines around me, but I forced my thoughts inward, preparing to meditate. Yet, despite my resolve, the flickering image of surprise in Olivia’s wide, dark eyes at my retreat pulled me back again and again to that fleeting moment, echoing in the recesses of my mind.

“It’s alright, Niles,” came a soft voice that sliced through my trance with unexpected warmth. Startled, I opened my eyes wide. There she was. Olivia. She stood beneath a slender beam of silvery moonlight cascading from high above, her figure illuminated like an angelic being descended from a dream. She had approached silently, leaving me to wonder how I missed her presence.

“Olivia,” I breathed, a feeling in my chest pulling toward her. I stood abruptly, brushing off the forest debris from my clothes.

“How did you find me?” My voice trembled, fraught with disbelief. I had isolated myself miles from the campus, convinced I was invisible to anyone who sought me.

“Oh, it wasn’t hard,” she replied, a playful smile gracing her lips, her expression teasing yet knowing. “I always know where you are.” Each word added a tantalizing layer to her aura, which was already enchanting under the moon's watchful gaze. It felt as if she belonged to the night—the way her skin seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow was almost magical, and her graceful form radiated a confidence that made my stomach knot with both longing and confusion.

“What were you thinking about?” Her voice trailed off like a gentle caress, a subtle invitation mixed with an edge of something deeper, something I couldn’t quite grasp.

“You,” I responded, the word escaping my lips before my mind could catch up, shock radiating through me at my own boldness. Olivia merely smiled at my admission, yet her smile fell short of reaching the depths of her expressive eyes.

A sharp instinct sparked within me, a warning that something was amiss.

“I know what you want,” she said, her tone softening, laced with a dark understanding that sent shivers down my spine. As she stepped closer, the distance between us evaporated, and she tilted her head, drawing back the collar of her school uniform with delicate fingers, exposing tender skin bathed in luminescent moonlight.

“No.” The protest tried to escape my lips but failed as confusion held me in place, an unseen force bounding my feet to the ground. My gaze was captured by her neck, where the soft curve beckoned sinister thoughts.

“It’s alright,” Olivia murmured sweetly, her voice wrapping around me like a silken blanket. “I don’t mind.”

Her right hand, gentle and soft, reached up to cradle my cheek, the warmth of her palm igniting a fire within me. I felt the vitality of her heartbeat thrumming beneath her skin, pulsating beneath delicate layers like a secret only I could touch. The intoxicating scent of her blood flooded my senses, a heavy blend of timbered florals—lavender and jasmine mingling with whispers of rose and lilac. It was beyond exquisite; it was intoxicating.

Every instinct screamed at me in a chorus of urgent need. This was what I desired, what I craved. The very essence of life flowed just beneath the surface, and I could have it—I needed to drink Olivia’s blood.

My body seemed to move of its own volition as I leaned in closer, my fangs extending, sharp and ready, glinting dully in the moonlight. A shadow of a smile danced at the corners of Olivia's mouth, and without a moment’s hesitation, I grasped her shoulders firmly. The moment stretched infinitely as I sank my fangs into the softness of her flesh, crossing the boundary between desire and oblivion.

She wrapped her arms around me tightly as I closed my eyes, preparing for the wave of satisfaction that would hit as soon as her blood pooled in my mouth.

It never came. More correctly, her blood never came.

I retracted my fangs, a wave of clarity washing over me, and I made a desperate attempt to push her away. Olivia had her arms wrapped around me tight, her grip an iron vise against my resistance. I gritted my teeth, channeling all my strength into my efforts, yet her hold only tightened, as if she were forged from something other than flesh. Panic fluttered in my chest; I should have been easily able to overpower her with my strength that eclipsed those of mere mortals. Yet here I was, ensnared in the embrace of an entity that defied the laws of nature.

“Olivia,” I gasped, the name, a prayer escaping my lips as I opened my eyes. The soft glow of moonlight had morphed, transforming from a comforting white into an unsettling, ominous dark red. The Blood Moon hung overhead, dominating the night sky and casting us in a harrowing crimson spotlight that seemed to pulse with an evil heartbeat.

“You are such a unique specimen,” Olivia said, her voice an alien timbre that held a depth far removed from the sweet, melodic cadence I knew. Her eyes pooled with a black, inky fluid, swirling like a cosmic void. “I wonder what caused you to turn out the way you did.”

“What are you?” I strained against her, my voice hoarse with disbelief, a mix of desperation and fury igniting my senses.

“Your savior,” she mocked, an eerie grin stretching across her face that felt more predatory than affectionate. “You want Olivia’s blood, and I can give that to you. For an eternity, you will know nothing more than the sweet taste of her life essence. All you need to do is give yourself to me in return.”

Her grip constricted further, a sharp inhale escaping my lips as I felt my bones begin to crack and splinter under her unyielding strength.

Her essence penetrated my senses. The aura radiating from her was ancient, a sinister force buried deep within the shadows, lurking patiently for thirty long years. It had waited, biding its time for this very moment. And now, it sought to consume me, to devour my very life force and fuel a reign of terror unlike anything I had ever known.

As the creature's grip slackened with one hand, it tightened its hold with the other, its icy fingers tracing a line down my chest. An inexplicable force surged from its fingertip, drawing me toward it like a moth to a flame. A sharp breath escaped my lips, and with it, I felt the very essence of my being unraveling, thread by thread. My vision suddenly expanded, and I beheld what felt like the life force of a million lost souls, shimmering like distant stars scattered across an eternal night sky. Each spark represented a damned being—their spirits were tethered to this malevolent figure, destined to wander aimlessly, prisoners of a fate far darker than death. I caught flashes of light, the view through the eyes of a million creatures. Among this striking blur of images, a single flicker caught my attention—her face, stricken with worry, the real Olivia. Her features, marred by dirt and blood, contrasted starkly against the uncanny doppelganger that stood before me, an eerie mimicry ensnaring my soul.

An overwhelming urge ignited within me, a primal instinct tearing at my flesh, urging me to resist this creature's pull. I could not allow this wretched imitation to consume me or steal away my life essence. Mustering every ounce of strength that remained, I pressed my palm firmly against the center of the imposter Olivia's chest. A surge of power coursed through my veins.

“Fulmen!” I shouted, igniting my hand with an ethereal blue glow, the furious energy of lightning crackling around me.

My voice reverberated through the oppressive forest as the energy erupted forth in a blinding flash. The creature was hurled backward by the force, slamming into the nearest tree with a bone-jarring thud, the sound echoing through the woods like a war cry. Waves of electricity danced over its twisted form, illuminating the grotesque visage that had masqueraded as Olivia, and in that moment, the spell of illusion shattered. I was repelled from that nightmarish connection, my essence snapping back into my body like a taut bowstring, severing the ties that bound me to those tortured souls.

As the dust settled and the haze of magic lifted, the creature staggered to its feet, revealing its true form—not the gentle face of Olivia, but that of a grotesque, emaciated woman. Her naked body was impossibly thin, draped in sagging, leathery gray skin that had the decayed look of a corpse long forgotten. Her limbs were unnaturally elongated, fingers resembling skeletal talons, and her long, black hair hung in matted clumps, trailing on the forest floor like the remnants of death itself.

With fury igniting in my eyes, I rekindled the lightning swirling around my hands, feeling the surge of power ready to strike once more.

“Estak ulfar on’ec da,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venomous hatred, as she locked eyes with me—those words seeping into my mind, thick with ancient warning. The language was Devalic, the tongue of the old Gods, laden with foreboding.

In a blink, the creature fled, scrambling on all fours across the forest floor with unnatural speed, its limbs moving like a spider’s. Before I could react or give chase, it vanished into the depths of the shadows, melding seamlessly with the trees and underbrush. But her final words echoed hauntingly in my mind, a chilling promise that would reverberate within me: “If not you, then another.”

Lucas

“Mom!” I yelled, jolted awake from the depths of a nightmare so visceral it clung to my mind like sticky cobwebs. A sharp pain throbbed in my head, the high-pitched ringing in my ears only amplifying my disorientation. As I blinked against the bright light spilling in, I scanned my surroundings. I was in the infirmary, my bed enveloped by a white cloth divider, the scent of antiseptic filling the air—cold and sterile.

Sitting up, I wiped the sleep and confusion from my eyes, desperately trying to piece together the jagged puzzle of last night’s events. I could still hear her voice, soft and sweet, a melody that twisted through the fog of my memory. “Mom,” I whispered, the word tasting both familiar and foreign on my tongue.

Vivid images of the previous night flooded back—first, the eeriness of the blood moon casting a haunting crimson glow over everything, then flashes of chaos. A dark, monstrous figure had attacked us; I could still hear the piercing cries of pain and desperation echoing in my mind. And then came Claire’s voice, frantic and filled with anguish, slicing through the turmoil like a knife. A knot tightened in my stomach as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, urgency overtaking my limbs.

I pulled aside the curtain, ready to uncover the truth. The room was stark and quiet, save for the sound of Hector pacing back and forth, lost in his thoughts. He froze mid-stride and turned to me, his expression shifting from contemplation to shock.

“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, relief flooding his features.

“Where’s Claire?” The question tumbled from my lips, my voice trembling with desperation.

He pointed to the bed right next to mine, and my heart lurched as I rushed to pull aside the curtain. There she lay, her eyes shut tight, face marred by scrapes and bruises that told their own painful story. A large plaster cast encased her leg, hoisted up in a stirrup. Clean streaks ran along her cheeks, remnants of tears that had carved through dirt and despair. My heart sank; I failed her. My eyes clouded, filling with tears of my own. As partners, it was our top priority to protect each other, but I was unable to fulfill that duty.

Hector approached, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. The comforting weight was something solid amid my swirling thoughts. I wiped my eyes, collectively straightening my demeanor.

“What happened to you last night?” he asked, his eyes heavy with concern and genuine worry, as if he feared the answer might shatter what little hope lingered in the room.

“I… I heard them,” I stammered, my voice wavering, unraveling like a fraying thread. “My parents.”

His expression morphed from worry to confusion, eyebrows furrowing as he processed my words.

“I know it sounds impossible, but it was them,” I insisted, closing my eyes for a moment to conjure the memory of their soothing voices. They told me they would always be there for me, those comforting tones that seemed to wrap around me like a protective blanket even through the chaos.

“They meant to shield me from whatever happened,” I elaborated, a sniff escaping as I fought to maintain composure. “They said they’d keep me safe; that they wouldn’t let anyone harm me.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I choked out the words, memories flooding back despite the pain.

“Are you sure it wasn't some kind of trick?” Hector asked, his tone shifting to serious, tension radiating from him like heat.

“ My parents gave their lives for me,” I replied, turning to him, intense determination surging within me. “I know it was them.”

I took a deep breath, grounding myself, and shifted my gaze back to Claire, my heart heavy yet resolute. It felt like it was tangled in a heavy net of worry and determination. There was no question in my mind: I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, no matter the cost. It was a promise I made to myself right then and there, as if the very universe had heard my silent vow. I would protect her—I had to.