EPISODE SIX: THE LOST CHILD

Marina

“Mama, come find me.” My little one’s voice echoed through our tiny, dimly lit house as I searched playfully.

“Mateo, come out, come out, wherever you are.”

He had an uncanny talent for hide-and-seek, but for the past few days, his mischief had taken on a new edge. I tiptoed to the bed, one of his favored hideouts. Kneeling down, I yanked up the bed skirt with a flourish, expecting giggles to spill from behind the dust and cobwebs.

“I found you!” I exclaimed, but the empty space mocked me. Only remnants of neglect lingered beneath.

“Not there,” Mateo’s voice teased, a note of mischief lacing his tone that felt strangely hollow.

“Hmm.” I mused, an unsettling feeling creeping into the back of my mind. “Where else could little Mateo be?”

There were only so many places to hide in our small, one-story shack, and I knew all of his favorite spots well.

“Perhaps,” I said, sauntering over to the broom closet. “Could he be in here?”

I pulled the closet open, only to be met by our dusty old mop and bucket.

His laughter rang through the house like a distant bell, mirthful yet chilling.

“Alright, Mateo,” I called out, my voice shaking as I raised my hands in mock surrender. “I give up.”

“Don’t give up so soon, Mommy.” His tone shifted, darkening like storm clouds, a hint of something sinister lurking beneath. “I’m waiting for you.”

A chill slithered down my spine, my vision darkened, like I was looking through a long black tunnel, instinct urging me to look outside. As I turned to the window, dread filled my chest; Mateo stood at the edge of our yard, just on the brink of the dark forest that loomed behind him, his warm smile glowing against the encroaching twilight. The sun was already threatening to set, its light waning, shadows stretching like fingers across the ground. In just a few hours, that wretched red moon would be hung in the sky.

“Mateo!” I screamed, my heart racing, panic coursing through my veins as he waved, blissfully unaware—or perhaps knowingly—of the danger nearby. His cropped blonde hair danced in the chilling breeze, his laughter lingering with an unsettling echo, almost taunting.

I flung open the front door, terror propelling me forward as I sprinted toward the woods.

“No!” I yelled, desperation fueling my flight as he faded into the suffocating dark of the trees, the sounds of his laughter morphing into something more monstrous with every footfall I took.

Lucas

We were packed into the auditorium like sardines, the musty smell of old wood filling the air. The space wasn’t designed to accommodate the full capacity of the school, so many students were crowded against the walls, shifting uncomfortably and stealing glances at the stage. Volcan stood there, a commanding figure, illuminated by the harsh lights above that almost made him look larger than life.

I scanned the room, noting the familiar faces among the throng. Hector and Olivia were jammed to my right, whispering softly. However, my heart ached for Claire, who should have been sitting beside me. Instead, she was still in the hospital, recovering. A heavy pang of guilt settled in my chest—if only I had kept it together during the fight, maybe things would be different.

I let out a deep, contemplative sigh, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me. Bruce, who had swooped in to rescue both of us, had insisted time and again that none of this was my fault, but deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was to blame for her absence.

Just then, Volcan cleared his throat, the sound resonating through the packed auditorium like a drum, silencing the anxious murmurs. As the hush fell over the crowd, I could feel the tension in the air, like everyone held their breath, waiting to see what he had to say.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, his voice shaky, yet somehow stern. “I stand before you today under somber circumstances following the recent harrowing attack on our first-year dorm. While we are relieved to report that most affected students are safe, a number of our peers are dealing with serious injuries, reminding us of the unpredictable nature of the world we inhabit. Our foremost commitment as your guardians is your safety, especially in this critical time when we anticipate further incidents may arise as long as the Blood Moon is present.

There is a dark presence that lurks outside of these walls. It wishes to invade our sanctuary and claim our lives and freedom for its own. It is our collective responsibility to look out for one another and to remain vigilant. Consequently, we are implementing several immediate safety measures: all classes will be suspended indefinitely; students are to stay on campus at all times, save for a few fourth and fifth-years who will be sent out on protective missions; and each night, there will be a curfew set for 7 PM — it is crucial you find shelter before darkness falls.

During daylight hours, our dedicated professors will assess any damage inside and outside of school and provide support for those who may be particularly affected by the Blood Moon’s influence. We understand that this period may be challenging, but trust that we will go above and beyond to protect each and every one of you. Together, we will navigate these tumultuous times, reinforcing our bonds and resilience as a community. Your safety is not just a priority—it's a promise. Stay strong, support one another, and remember that we are in this together.”

Silence swept through the room, wrapping around us like a thick blanket, heavy and suffocating. The stillness felt oppressive, as if it was pressing down on our chests, making each breath a challenge. A cold chill lingered in the air, creeping along our skin and sending shivers down our spines.

Hector, Olivia, and I exchanged glances, each of us aware of the tension simmering just beneath the surface. As if the threat had become infinitely more serious with Volcan’s acknowledgment, we knew one thing for sure—we were all in danger.

Olivia

The day dragged on, a slow crawl through endless halls devoid of the usual bustle of classes. Hector had retreated back to the infirmary, still nursing his injuries, while Luke was glued to Claire’s side, only breaking away for the mandatory meeting earlier in the day.

I shuffled through the front door of the school, gazing out at the empty courtyard—its silence almost oppressive. The bench where Niles and I had shared that fateful conversation sat desolate beneath the drooping willow tree.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that followed me. Where was he now? What was he doing? Our focus had shifted to Volcan as the Dark Matron’s primary target, but I couldn’t help but crave a chance to speak with Niles again. So many questions swirled in my mind, and I wondered if a friendship could ever be possible amid this chaos.

With a resigned sigh, I sank down onto the cool green grass, relishing the fleeting moments I had before curfew loomed. I unsheathed my sword, laying it gently before me like an artifact of hope. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and summoned the incantation.

In an instant, there it was—Fundas Feram—looming ominously in the shadows behind my eyelids.

“Speak to me,” I urged, but the figure remained mute, as if it hadn’t even registered my words. Frustration bubbled beneath the surface while I thought back to my classmates, almost all of whom had already formed connections with their Weapons. Why was I still being ignored?

Grounding myself, I took a deep breath. “Please,” I implored, my voice steady yet tinged with desperation. “My life, my friends’ lives, and this entire school are in danger. I need your guidance.”

The figure stirred, its head tilting slightly in what I hoped was curiosity—and maybe not contempt. It raised a hand, and I braced myself, expecting another rejection.

“You are not yet ready to wield my power,” came the voice, smooth and distinctly female, catching me off guard. I blinked, caught between surprise and determination.

“I don’t know if we can defeat her without your strength. I need as much power as I can get,” I said, clenching my fists as determination grew.

“You must learn to control your own abilities first,” she replied, her tone balancing sternness with an unmistakable tenderness, like a strict yet compassionate mother. “Only then will you stand a chance against her.”

With a wave of her hand, everything shifted, and I was jolted back to the harsh reality of my surroundings. Defeated, I let out a frustrated sigh, staring down at the blade that gleamed brightly in the warm glow of the setting sun. It seemed that for now, I was on my own in this fight.

Niles

“Come along,” Professor Hawthorne beckoned, his voice echoing slightly in the dimly lit corridor as he gently ushered me forward, his hand resting reassuringly on my shoulder, though a noticeable distance remained between us. Ella and Duncan followed behind, their expressions shadowy with concern. The chilly air felt charged as we navigated the eerily empty hall; almost every student was locked away in their dorm rooms, and to my knowledge, we were the only souls left in the expansive old building. The temptation to overpower him and seize the blood that had eluded us for too long surged through my mind—a dark call too enticing to ignore. Yet I steeled myself against the primal hunger that thrummed just beneath my skin, feeling my fangs threaten to extend in response.

Ella, sensing my distress, placed her hand on my other shoulder, her touch a grounding force amid the chaos. She was particularly strong when it came to resisting the temptations of blood. Although we were all slaves to the primal hunger, she was able to resist more than most.

The professor led us into his classroom, which felt bare, the desks and chairs having been hastily pushed aside to form a large empty circle in the center—a stage set for an uncertain ritual.

“Stand there,” he commanded, gesturing toward the circle, his tone firm yet laced with urgency.

The three of us shuffled into position as he raced behind his desk, rifling through cabinets for something we couldn’t yet comprehend. My gaze flicked to the clock above the door—6:47.

Hawthorne’s brows furrowed deeper as he searched, and then, with an exclamation of triumph, he pulled out a small, ebony box, placing it carefully on the desk before walking back to us and stopping just at the circle’s edge.

“You must listen to me,” he said, lowering his voice as though afraid that the darkness around might overhear. “I can help you, but only if you’ll let me.”

Confusion furrowed my brow as I met his earnest gaze.

“I know you’ve resorted to feeding on animals during the delay of your blood supply,” he paused, a hint of shame flickering across his face. “That delay wasn’t a mere coincidence—Deputy Headmistress Victoria is not one to be kind to creatures of the night. In fact, she loathes them, so much so that she would be willing to put the lives of all of the students in danger just to prove her point.”

He fixed his gaze on me, an intense focus that sent a shiver down my spine.

“But you, Niles, you are something unique,” he added, a fleeting smile breaking through his tension. “You’ve forced me to reevaluate my own biases, and for that reason, I refuse to play the part in her game any longer.”

His brows knitted together in a frown, a storm of resolve brewing in his eyes.

“If you wish to survive the night, you must resist the call of the Dark Matron.”

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Duncan, Ella, and I exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between us; her influence was palpable. We could all feel it, her strength over us increasing exponentially minute by minute. It felt like she was clawing her way into the back of our minds, threatening to break through our skulls at any moment.

“I will attempt to shield you,” Hawthorne said, his voice tense with the weight of the moment. “But you must fight the hunger that dwells within you.”

The air grew thick with anticipation, and I sensed the determination in Hawthorne’s posture, resolute and brave. He was staying here, with us, at risk of his own health and safety in order to protect us from the Dark Matron.

“Thank you,” I finally said, my voice steady as I braced myself for what promised to be an excruciating trial. The professor retreated to his desk, unveiling the small box, and I held my breath as he retrieved a vial filled with a shimmering, bright purple powder that seemed to pulse with energy.

“The other Vampire you encountered, your kindred, attempted a similar concoction, but this—” he held it aloft, the substance glittering mischievously in the dim light—“is far more potent.”

With a flick of his wrist, he poured the dust into his palm, and with an unmistakable flourish, he released it into the air, the powder cascading down over us like enchanting, glittering raindrops.

He then brought his hands together, palms pressed firmly, and closed his eyes, the atmosphere vibrating with his incantation, “Defendat nos.” I recognized the invocation. It was powerful and heavy with energy, drawing upon his own strength as we felt a shield forming around us.

A massive bubble of swirling, purple light enveloped us, illuminating the cramped classroom with a dreamlike glow. Hawthorne maintained his position outside the sphere, his brow etched with concentration as strains of energy pulsed around him.

“Do not exit the sphere,” he cautioned, his voice taut with effort, “or my concentration may falter.”

With a shared understanding, Ella, Duncan, and I settled onto the floor at the circle’s center, the weight of the impending night bearing down on us, shadows of our deepest hungers whispering threats from the corners of our minds.

A long and treacherous night lay ahead of us.

Olivia

Hector and I peered out of his dorm room window, our breaths fogging the glass as we watched the chaotic scene unfold. A glistening white shield surrounding the school cast a soft glow over the dimly lit space, illuminating corners of the room that felt swallowed in darkness. Outside, the teachers formed a tense barricade, standing resolutely just beyond the protective bubble, their shadows looming large as they prepared to defend against whatever danger lurked in the night. Headmaster Volcan, stalwart and imposing, stood at the forefront, flanked by Headmistress Victoria, their silhouettes a mix of determination and concentration. My heart panged for Volcan; he looked perilously close to being ensnared by the Dark Matron’s sinister grasp, yet he remained ready to sacrifice himself for the safety of his students.

As dusk settled over the world like a thick blanket, there was an eerie calm, a discomforting quiet that felt like the eye of a storm. The moon hung in the sky, illuminating a bright silver, not quite ready to shift yet. Suddenly, Hector winced beside me, clutching his chest as if struck by an invisible threat.

“Are you alright?” I asked, gently placing my hand over his, warmth spreading between us.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But it still stings.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t a Werewolf,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood as I patted his hand, my fingers brushing against his in a comforting gesture. He managed a slight chuckle, but worry lingered in the air.

His gaze drifted to the shadowy forest line, shrouded in the growing darkness. “It’s like I can feel them,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of fear and disbelief. “I can feel her. She’s so close.”

“We’re safe here,” I reassured him, though my own voice wavered slightly. “The teachers will protect us.” I wished I could believe those words wholeheartedly. The bubble would surely prevent the Dark Matron from entering the school, right?

Turning to me, Hector searched my eyes, his own reflecting the eerie glow from outside, dancing with uncertainty. “Do you feel safe?” he asked, gripping my hand a little tighter, as if he needed my strength to anchor him.

I paused, contemplating the swirling emotions in my chest. I would do everything in my power to keep my friends safe, but deep down, that gnawing feeling nagged at me. Maybe we were in over our heads. The mounting dread loomed like a dark cloud, threatening to swallow us whole.

The light shifted suddenly, casting a vicious red hue that pressed down on us like a heavy blanket. It felt as if we were swimming in thick syrup, the atmosphere thickening with an almost tangible pressure. The Blood Moon had risen again, its ominous glow bathing everything in a sinister light.

Without so much as a warning, an ear-splitting screech pierced the air, sending shivers down my spine. It felt like the shriek was tearing at the very fabric of spacetime, unraveling reality with a force we couldn’t comprehend. I blinked in disbelief as I counted ten tears that opened right before our eyes, their edges flickering ominously, grotesque ripples in the world around us.

And then, as if the universe itself was exhaling something dark and forbidden, they stepped through the rifts: creatures that defied description, moving with an unsettling motion. Each one was more disturbing than the last, grotesque forms writhing in the air as they slipped into our reality, leaving us paralyzed in fear. Vampires, Hellhounds, and winged monstrosities soared overhead, each one twisted into abominations, corrupted with the oozing black smoke of the Dark Matron. Each one bore her sinister mark.

Marina

“Mateo!” I screamed, my voice shattering the suffocating silence around me. My lungs burned with each desperate cry, but each echo only deepened the crushing weight of solitude. Laughter grazed my ear—sweet, innocent—but it turned into an unsettling whisper as I spun around, desperate for visual proof of my son. My surroundings were a labyrinth of gnarled trees, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, each soaked in the ominous glow of the blood moon. This was not the world I recognized but a nightmarish cage, and I felt like prey encircled by an unseen predator.

I paused, pressing my back against the ancient bark of a massive tree, its surface rough against my skin. Why had he disobeyed me? He was so bright, so curious. Why would he heed the call of darkness that lured him into these cursed woods? Panic clawed at my insides as I contemplated our grim fate.

“Mommy!” His voice echoed in the shadows, fragile yet gleeful. “Don’t give up yet! You’ve almost found me!”

Fueled by his words, I took a shuddering breath and propelled myself forward, heart thrumming like a frantic drum in my chest.

“Just a little further!” he called, laughter quivering through the air.

The trees parted suddenly, revealing a haunting clearing drenched in the unsettling crimson light. There he was, a small figure—my Mateo—standing alone in the center, the reflection of the Blood Moon dancing on his face.

“Mateo!” I shouted, barreling toward him with frantic urgency. My arms enveloped him, but he felt colder than I remembered, as if the warmth of life had been replaced with an icy void.

“You found me,” he chirped, voice cheerful, but beneath lurked a sinister undertone that struck a fearful chord within me.

I pulled back, searching his face, my heart plummeting as I stared into clouded, soulless eyes that resembled vacant orbs of a corpse. His mouth twisted into a widening grin, revealing rows of jagged, shark-like teeth that gleamed ominously in the moonlight.

“No!” I gasped, recoiling in terror. “You’re not my Mateo!”

In uncanny speed, he captured my arm in a grip far too strong for his frail frame, pulling me closer with a predatory gleam in those haunting eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, Mommy,” he cooed, his voice warping and melding into something guttural, a sound that curdled my blood. “Don’t you want to play with me?”

The very air thickened with dread as he crept closer, his shadow swallowing me whole.

I thrashed in panic. “Get away from me!”

Before I could pull free, he lunged, sinking those razor-sharp teeth into the flesh of my shoulder. Fire erupted in my body, pain exploding across my nerves like a branding iron. He bit again, this time into my arm, tearing into me with an insatiable hunger.

Agonizing screams ripped from my throat as he feasted upon me, the sickening sound of tearing flesh echoing around us, swallowed by the woods. With each bite, I felt life slipping away, my blood pooling beneath me—dark and warm—a tainted offering to the malevolent night.

As I lay sprawled on the ground, a grotesque canvas painted in my own blood, the laughter that once seemed innocent twisted into a horrifying cacophony. The world grew dark, my vision blurred, when suddenly, he paused.

“Naughty boy,” a twisted voice lilted, serpentine in its nature, the figure obscured in the shadows.

“M-mommy?” the doppelgänger wailed, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.

The deep voice spoke in a language I couldn’t comprehend. Whispers of pure darkness.

The earth trembled beneath me, something colossal approaching, its presence suffocating. I fought to turn my head, but my body was paralyzed by pain, each agonizing moment stretching like an eternity.

“No, Mommy!” he sobbed, his voice shrill, desperation clawing at it. “I’ll be a good boy! I’ll be—”

A blinding flash surged through the clearing, searing my eyes. Thunder cracked with an explosive force, and the ground shook violently, uprooting leaves and shaking the very foundation of this hellish landscape. Whatever had come, something ancient and terrible, abruptly retreated into the shadows of the woods.

I surrendered to the abyss, the darkness enveloping me as I closed my eyes, letting the void wash over me, pulling me into its merciless embrace.

Lucas

“Lucas.” A soft voice called my name, pulling me abruptly from the depths of my slumber. I blinked awake, realizing I was once again in the infirmary. Claire lay peacefully in the bed beside me, her rhythmic breathing filling the otherwise still room. The air felt heavy with whispers of dreams, and the atmosphere was tinged with the faint scent of antiseptic. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and glanced out the window, where an odd blend of light poured in—red from the moon that loomed overhead and white from the bubble encasing our school, creating a surreal backdrop.

Turning my gaze back to Claire, I noted how much more relaxed she appeared than earlier in the day. Her face held a softness, a peace that seemed almost ethereal, and I felt an urge to reach out. Gently, I placed my hand against her warm cheek, and warmth spread through me, filling the emptiness that had been gnawing at my insides.

“Lucas!” A sudden shout echoed through the room, causing me to leap to my feet, heart racing. I whipped around, half-expecting to see someone there, but I was met with nothing but shadows.

Tentatively, I took a step toward the darkness, the solitary light from the window casting elongated shapes on the wall. Claire’s stillness surrounded me with an eerie calm.

“Lucas, my darling.” The voice called again, softer this time, stirring something deep within me.

“Mom?” I whispered, my voice breaking with a mix of hope and disbelief.

Then, quite suddenly, I saw her—a glimmer of light, unmistakably her, flickering like a candle flame in the middle of the room. Her face wore a sorrowful smile, glowing in the dimness.

“My Lucas.” Her voice echoed through the space, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace.

I felt a surge of emotions as the flicker of light danced toward the door, passing through it without a sound.

“Wait!” I shouted, throwing the door open and sprinting after the specter, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Lucas.” She beckoned, her voice melodic but filled with a tinge of sadness. “How your father and I have missed you.”

I hurried down the hallway after her as she floated away. “Mom! How are you here?”

“Our love for you is eternal,” she explained, the light pulsating as she spoke. “Strong enough to cross back over from the land of the dead. We’ve come back to protect you.”

The corridor stretched infinitely before me, shadows creeping along the walls like dark tendrils. I glanced around, half-expecting something—or someone—to spring out from the darkness. But it was just her, flickering like a distant star, leading me deeper into the twisting maze of the school.

“You and your friends are in danger,” she said urgently, the air thickening with each word. “We’re here to protect you, just like we did when you were a baby.”

“Mom, please!” I cried, my voice pounding against the silence as I ran faster, my breath quickening with each step. Her form glimmered just out of reach, as if the distance between us was stretching indefinitely.

“Trust us!” she urged, her voice echoing in my ears. I reached out desperately, my fingers grazing the cool air where she lingered, but no matter how hard I tried, she continued to evade me.

We rounded a corner, and I was struck by a sense of urgency. “Mom!” I yelled, feeling panic surge within me. “I need to understand!”

Turning sharply, she glanced back, her sorrowful smile still radiant despite her fleeting form. “Meet me on the third night of the cycle, Lucas,” she said, her voice low and insistent. “Please, don’t forget.”

“Don’t go!” I pleaded, emotions rising like a tide. “I’ll do whatever you need. Just don’t leave me!”

She paused briefly before the entrance to the auditorium. She transformed, appearing before me, radiant in her full form—a beautiful vision, ethereal and glowing.

“I promise, dear,” she whispered, her gaze so full of love it made my chest ache. “We’re watching over you. Always.”

As I closed the distance, desperate for a connection, she held her hand out to me, her fingers outstretched.

“Oh, Mom!” I wailed, tears threatening to spill as I rushed toward her. But my arms, reaching for the warmth of a hug, fell right through her ghostly figure.

She placed her hand beside my cheek; I only felt a cool buzzing against my skin in response.

In that moment, I was acutely aware of her absence over the past eleven years. A billion words bubbled up within me—stories to share, memories to forge—but despite the overwhelming tide of emotions, I found solace in simply being by her side once more.

“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper now, as if carried away by a gentle breeze. “I must go.”

“Wait! I need you!” I yelled, a deep ache settling in my heart as the specter began to dissolve, the warmth of her love slipping away into the dark.

With a gentle smile, she vanished into thin air, and the auditorium entrance grew cold and empty. The corridor suddenly felt heavier, filled with the weight of her absence. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I buried my face in my hands, overcome by a torrent of emotion.

“Lucas?” A deep voice interrupted my sorrow, pulling me back to reality. I turned around to see Bruce standing a few feet back, a lantern illuminating the darkness surrounding us.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, hastily wiping my tears away with my sleeves.

“You’re meant to be in your dorm,” he said, concern etched on his face. “What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing,” I sniffled, my voice betraying my anguish. “I was with Claire in the infirmary, but I couldn’t sleep.”

He regarded me with a questioning look, then glanced back toward the empty hall behind him. “Let’s head back,” he suggested, his voice low. “It’s not safe out here.”

I nodded in agreement, finding some solace in his presence, and together we walked back in the direction I had come, burdened by the weight of what I had just experienced—and the promise that lingered in the air.