EPISODE THREE: THE BLOOD MOON

PROLOGUE THREE: THE RED WOMAN

Thirty Years Ago

Marcus

The snarling beast hurled itself toward me, teeth bared, claws glinting menacingly in the twilight. I felt utterly powerless as it crashed into me, knocking the wind from my lungs and sending me sprawling on my back. My sword clattered against the rooftop, the sound reverberating like a death knell. The creature’s razor-sharp teeth sank into my neck and shoulder, delivering a sickening crunch that echoed in my ears. I opened my mouth to scream, but my voice was caught in my throat like a fish on dry land. Time seemed to stretch and slow, a thick, suffocating darkness enveloping my vision.

“Marcus,” a dark, resonant voice called to me, cutting through the quiet void.

“Marcus,” it repeated, an urgent plea that jolted me back to awareness. “Get up.”

My eyes shot open and locked onto the beast as it still loomed over me, its teeth embedded in my flesh; yet curiously, the pain had faded into a distant memory.

“Enough,” I commanded, my voice emerging with an unexpected power, echoing like a grand choir. The beast faltered, instantly loosening its grip and stumbling back, its mouth stained grotesquely with my black blood. Confusion etched itself into its eyes, wide and frantic, like a lost child searching for a parent in a chaotic crowd.

Rising to my feet, I felt a familiar strength surge through my body as I raised my arm high above the creature's head. As my black blood dripped down, swirling through the air like dark smoke, it poured into the beast's mouth and streamed from its eyes, ears, and nostrils. In that instant, I pierced the veil of its savage exterior and glimpsed the truth beneath: a terrified creature, bewildered by its own nature and the chaos it wrought. I felt its essence entwining with my own—a symphony of pain, of past and present, echoing its transformation, the agonizing cut from Volcan, and the visceral agony of my tainted blood permeating its very consciousness.

Though my heart ached for this wretched beast, my body moved of its own accord, a puppet with strings pulled by an unseen force. With a flick of my wrist, the creature rose effortlessly into the air, its legs dangling limply. A sickening snap shattered the stillness as its head fell back at an unnatural angle. I let my hand fall, and the lifeless beast crumpled to the rooftop with a heavy thud, its reign of terror extinguished.

As my blood withdrew, it slithered back up my arm like a pack of black snakes, reentering the open wound on my shoulder with a sharp, jarring sting. Miraculously, the wound closed smoothly behind it, as if I had never borne a mark. I released a deep, shuddering breath, and the tension that had held me captive began to dissipate, leaving me light yet filled with an overwhelming mixture of triumph and sorrow.

“Good.” The dark voice echoed ominously in my mind, sending chills down my spine.

Victoria and Volcan rushed to my side, their expressions a mix of concern and urgency.

“Are you all right?” Volcan asked, his voice steady as he slid his arm around my shoulders to offer support.

“I'm fine,” I breathed, leaning into him for a moment. “It just takes a lot out of me.”

Victoria knelt down, her gaze intense as she studied the lifeless form of the beast sprawled at our feet. With a practiced hand, she plucked a tuft of its coarse hair and held it up to the silver glow of the moonlight, allowing its ethereal light to reveal its secrets.

“This one was young,” she murmured, her voice tinged with curiosity and sorrow as she sprinkled the hair into the wind. Her brow furrowed, deep in thought as she contemplated the implications of what lay before us.

Volcan nodded, his jaw tightening in concern. “The nearest known pack is several hundred miles away. But even they wouldn't be this audacious about their hunting.”

“It was untrained and unable to control itself,” he added, his tone serious and contemplative. “This may have been a lone wolf, turned on accident.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the unpredictable, wild nature that lingered just beyond our understanding.

Victoria turned to me with a look of determination in her eyes.

“Marcus, can you—” Her words were abruptly silenced by an overwhelming surge of pressure that enveloped us, like an unseen force pressing down with insurmountable weight. The once-familiar air transformed, feeling as though it had solidified into a dense, suffocating blanket. Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath us, vibrating with an intensity that threatened to unearth our very foundations. My vision wavered, a disorienting swirl of colors and shadows, and I felt Volcan’s grip around me loosen as he sank to the ground, desperately clutching his ears.

“Volcan!” I yelled, my frantic voice rising in pitch, yet it emerged as a mere whisper, swallowed whole by the oppressive silence that surrounded us, as if we were suspended in the void of space itself.

Just then, a blinding flash of bright crimson light erupted in the sky, casting eerie shadows that danced around us. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I turned my gaze skyward. The moon, once a tranquil, silvery orb illuminating the night, had transformed into a menacing, deep crimson sphere. Its blood-red glow flooded the landscape, casting an ominous hue over everything and wrapping us in a surreal, nightmarish scene that sent shivers racing down my spine.

The Blood Moon.

The trembling beneath our feet slowed to a halt and a loud, grating scratch sliced through the stillness, reverberating in the air like an ominous omen. The sound was chilling, as if the very fabric of time had been torn asunder, echoing the chaos that preceded it. Instinctively, I turned my gaze toward the source, my heart racing as I spotted a gaping rift suspended precariously above a rooftop nearby.

The edges of the anomaly flickered with a vivid crimson light, shimmering like molten metal, twisted and frayed as though the very air had been scorched away. Through the jagged opening, I could only see a swirling abyss of profound blackness that seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy.

Then, from the depths of that void, a figure began to materialize, emerging slowly as though fighting against the very forces that sought to keep it there. It was a woman, her long, sleek black hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall of night. Her pale hands grasped something tightly shrouded in a red cloth, fingers wrapping around it as if it were the last remnant of her existence. I could barely make out her features—sharp cheekbones, striking deep black eyes, and full, rounded lips.

"What—what are you?" I whispered, my voice scarcely escaping my throat.

Six Months Ago

Niles

The four of us stood in front of the towering, ornate oak door of the ancient Redwater church, its intricate carvings whispering secrets of centuries past. To my left was Ella, her striking dark gray skin complementing her long, flowing black hair that gleamed like polished obsidian in the moonlight. Her piercing auburn eyes glared straight ahead. To my right stood Duncan, a towering boy, his stark pale skin almost luminescent against the night, while his tousled blonde hair caught the light, giving him an ethereal quality. I had seen both of them before, countless times roaming the dusty halls of the decrepit hotel that our coven claimed as home. Yet, this was the first time I would engage with them directly, united by our appearance of youthfulness. We were the only three in our coven that could pass as students.

From behind us, Chiril, our leader, placed his hands on my shoulders. His grip was firm, almost painful, grounding me in the moment. He leaned closer, his breath cold against my ear.

“Tell me what you see.”

I turned my gaze towards the door, its grain twisting like ancient whispers. As I extended my hand, a wave of intangible energy surged forth, coursing through the door’s sturdy frame and penetrating the dimness beyond. On the other side, three shadowy figures stood. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel their very beings. My spectral hand glided towards them, enveloping each figure with a delicate caress that, to them, must have felt like a breath of wind. As I probed deeper, the very essence of their beings unfurled before me—their intentions, hidden fears, and a strange, magnetic pull intertwining seamlessly like strands of a dark tapestry.

“There’s one Elf and two Humans,” I replied. “The Elf is Volcan.”

I closed my eyes, trying to sharpen my perception. As my energy extended farther, it coiled around him like an invisible serpent, but there was an unexpected resistance that caught me off guard. A sharp sting lanced through my consciousness, as though I were brushing against a field of barbed wire that twisted around him, each prick sending a jolt of discomfort coursing through my veins. I winced, feeling the tension between us simmer, as if the very air crackled with unspoken power and raw intensity.

“He’s the Headmaster of the academy. And...” I hesitated for a heartbeat, “he is special.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I examined the strong, dark energy radiating from him—like a shadow lurking just out of sight.

“The Humans are Victoria Blackburn and Archimedes Hawthorne,” I added, tilting my head as I shifted my focus to the others. “Hawthorne has a powerful gift for magic, while Victoria is knowledgeable about monsters and dark creatures.”

Each revelation hung in the air, thick with anticipation, as we braced ourselves for what would come next.

“They mean to test us,” I said, my shoulders dropping a bit. “On our skills.”

I released my hold on them, feeling the familiar rush of energy flood back into my own body, as if a dam had broken within me. The vibrant power pulsed through my veins, yet fatigue clung to my limbs like an unwelcome weight.

“You did well,” Chiril assured me, his hand cooling against my shoulder in a reassuring pat. I turned to face him, captivated by the striking appearance of his stark white hair that cascaded like silken snow against the pallor of his skin, and his pale, almost ethereal eyes, tinted with a hint of soft pink that seemed to glimmer in the low light. He was ancient, a relic of a time long past, older than most vampires still lurking in the shadows of this world, yet his visage betrayed none of that age—he appeared no older than his early thirties. Chiril's lips curved into a wide, mischievous grin, revealing two elegantly pointed fangs.

He leaned in close again.

“I want you to show them what you’ve got.”

As the heavy, creaking door swung open, we were immediately enveloped in an array of flickering lights and an invasive mixture of scents—noxious-smelling candle wax mingling with the earthy aroma of damp stone. The four of us walked silently into the church, where the air hung thick with a weighty stillness. The interior was strikingly sparse, dominated by the magnificent altar that loomed like a silent sentinel at the front, while ornate candelabras illuminated the shadows with a warm, orange glow that danced playfully on the ancient walls. Against the dim backdrop, a towering stained glass window at the rear glimmered faintly, rendering a kaleidoscope of colors that flickered across the marble floor like the fading hues of dusk. The once-charming pews had been unceremoniously stripped away, leaving an expansive arena that felt both eerie and inviting, filled with an assortment of straw mannequins.

Standing tall amongst them were several towering straw figures, their burlap heads crowned with elongated, pointed ears, giving them an ominous, otherworldly quality. I immediately knew what these duplicates represented and mentally noted them as "Werewolves," an echo of our dark rivals. A few of the figures had been savagely splattered with crimson paint, the drips and streaks resembling blood cascading from their stitched mouths. It struck me as a cruel homage to our own nature—were those terrible effigies intended to represent Vampires? A chilling reminder of the precarious boundary we tread.

Amidst the hushed reverence of the church, the three professors lingered near the altar, their presence evoking an air of solemnity. The first to step forward was Volcan, the Elf, a striking figure who drew my gaze with an inexplicable intensity. As he moved closer, an acute pain surged in my chest, as if an invisible thread was tugging me toward him. There were whispers of something—flashes of something, just beyond what I could see.

Volcan appeared to be in his late 20s, his features strikingly handsome. His raven-black hair glimmered with a violet sheen under the soft illumination, while his porcelain skin bore a ghostly translucence, revealing a network of black veins just beneath the surface. It struck me that he seemed weary, shadows beneath his eyes indicating a lack of rest, prompting theories that perhaps he was battling an unseen ailment.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, bowing his head slightly, the flickering candlelight casting his shadow on the aged stone walls of the church. Chiril returned his bow with a respectful nod.

“I have brought you three of our brightest,” he declared, his voice resonating throughout the hallowed space like the tolling of a deep bell. “This is Niles, Ella, and Duncan,” he gestured with a sweep of his arm, drawing attention to each of us in turn. I could feel a mix of excitement and trepidation in the air.

“They are eager and ready to take their first steps toward becoming Blood Moon Hunters,” he added, his tone full of anticipation as he pointed our way.

“Before we officially accept your proposal, we would like to judge the current skills of the three to see how well they would fare in our academy.”

“As you wish,” Chiril said, patting my shoulder.

I took a few cautious steps forward.

“Niles Ortiz,” I introduced myself, my voice lacking the commanding weight that Chiril's effortlessly carried. The woman, Victoria, leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued as she whispered to the other man beside her, a plump fellow with a friendly yet authoritarian air to him.

“The one with the magical abilities,” she murmured, her tone laced with a mix of awe and skepticism. Archimedes, his brow furrowing in intrigue, turned to assess me more keenly, his eyes widening with a blend of bewilderment and disbelief, as if trying to fit together the menacing appearance of a Vampire with the extraordinary title that accompanied my name.

“If you would,” Volcan said with a kind smile, gesturing toward a rather large werewolf mannequin.

I turned my attention toward the beast and pointed two fingers at it.

“Fulmen,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. A surge of electricity crackled within me, pooling in my core before it surged down my arm, sparking with an energy that felt both exhilarating and ravenous. As I stretched out my fingers, the room was engulfed in a brilliant flash of electric blue light, illuminating every corner with a remarkable glow. The bolt arced gracefully through the air, a wild and luminous serpent, before colliding violently with the mannequin in the center of the room. The impact was cataclysmic; the figure erupted in a dazzling explosion, sending shards of burning straw and burlap flying like confetti from a celestial celebration, each piece spiraling down gracefully, twinkling in the luminous aftermath of my unleashed power.

I exhaled slowly, and the air thickened as the room fell silent, the atmosphere pulsating with astonishment. Victoria's mouth fell slightly ajar, her eyes wide with shock, while Archimedes stood poised as if on the brink of an exhilarating revelation, a glimmer of elation dancing in his gaze. Volcan remained motionless, embodying the serenity of a statue, yet a satisfied smile creased his lips, hinting at his approval. With a bow to the trio, I turned my attention back to my companions—Ella and Duncan, who were frozen in place, wore a mix of astonishment and disbelief on their faces. Just behind them, Chiril hovered, his lips contorted into a nefarious grin that revealed he found delight in my success, his eyes glinting with a mischievous spark.

Present Day

Olivia

Blood. It coated the school in a chilling, vivid layer. The walls and floor glistened in the dim light, transforming ordinary classrooms into nightmarish scenes, with deep pools creating a grotesque reflection of the lights above.

With each hurried step, I splashed through the hot liquid, the coppery scent thick in the air as adrenaline pushed me forward.

Where is he? The thought raced through my mind like a warning siren. Up ahead, a flicker of a shining red light caught my eye, pulsing like a heartbeat in the distance.

He has to be here, I repeated to myself, urgency thrumming through my veins as my heart raced and my breaths quickened, each inhale igniting a fiery sensation in my lungs. With each step, the dimly lit hall seemed to stretch endlessly before me until, finally, a shadowy figure materialized at the far end. My pulse quickened as I broke into a full sprint, determined to close the distance. As I barreled forward, the figure came into focus; there stood Niles, draped in an all-black version of our school uniform. His pristine hair was slicked back with meticulous care, and his eyes were an unsettling shade of red—so dark they almost swallowed the light.

"Niles," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my racing heart. He turned to me, and as our gazes met, a sinister smile spread across his face, revealing impossibly long, sharp fangs that glinted ominously in the low light.

"Hello, Olivia," he said, holding his hand out to me.

I woke up with a start to a soft knocking on my door.

"Olivia," I heard Claire's voice say from the other side. "We're meeting in five."

"Alright," I shouted back groggily, finally sitting up and wiping the sleep from my eyes. Rubbing my forehead, I couldn’t shake off the mix of thoughts about my dream; ever since I had met Khxlynd’r, I had hoped my nightmares would fade, but clearly, I was mistaken.

It wasn’t that I was terrified; the dream felt like a lingering shadow from that fateful day before I encountered the Vampires. Niles kept appearing in my mind. He was such a captivating figure—older than the rest of us by decades—yet I felt an undeniable bond between us, being the youngest in our class. My thoughts were racing with questions for him ever since yesterday, especially with the ominous presence of the Spawn lingering over everything. Was he the Spawn, or merely an assassin? I desperately preferred he be the former, though I knew protecting him wouldn’t be a simple task.

As I glanced at the clock and gasped, realization hit me—I had just two minutes to join Claire, Hector, and Luke to strategize our game plan. I quickly threw on a sweatshirt and sweatpants; today was bound to be a wild ride.

Niles

I stared at the lifeless carcass that lay before me on the precarious wooden structure we called a table. It was a deer, its life snuffed out by a quick snap of the neck.

“You don’t expect us to drink that, do you?” Ella said, shooting a glance full of daggers at Duncan.

“Unless you have a better idea,” Duncan said, folding his arms. His clothes were covered in mud and dirt, a testament to his late-night excursion. The night had dragged on under the weight of our hunger, making sleep nearly impossible. He left at around four in the morning and had returned an hour later with this pitiful creature.

“I have several better ideas,” Ella said, rolling her eyes, “but none that wouldn’t get us kicked out of this godforsaken place.”

I leaned closer to the creature, taking a deep breath, and was struck by the overwhelming stench. Unlike the sweet, fragrant allure of Human blood—which often varied in flavor based on individual backgrounds and even exhibited nuances linked to personalities—this deer’s blood exuded an odor reminiscent of soggy grass left to rot in the damp earth. For Vampires, indulging in animal blood was an uncommon practice, rarely embraced due to its unpalatable taste; most would find it utterly revolting. Yet, in desperate times, it served a purpose, providing modest sustenance that, while incapable of revitalizing us with the vigor that Human blood would bestow, could still suffice to keep us from the brink of weakness in a pinch.

I tilted my head back, feeling my canines sharpen to their full, menacing length, as a primal wave of hunger surged through me. The desire for blood became an irresistible force, drawing me toward the carcass like an ember to flame. I shuddered at the putrid aroma wafting from the furry mass, and yet, as I sank my teeth into the flesh, an unexpected relief washed over me, temporarily silencing the relentless pangs that had tormented my stomach for days on end. The taste—grimy, metallic, and utterly devoid of flavor—was as wretched as the stench that enveloped us. Drawing my head away, I gasped for fresh air, the revulsion mingling with a strange satisfaction.

“How is it?” Ella asked, her face contorted in disgust, eyes wide with horror at the sight before her.

"Horrible," I admitted, hastily wiping my mouth on my sleeve, remnants of the gruesome feast staining my shirt. Without a second thought, I leaned back in for another bite, my instincts taking charge, soon followed hesitantly by Duncan and an exceedingly reluctant Ella, each battling their own inner demons as they surrendered to the insatiable call of hunger.

The memories flooded back to the days spent in my coven, where the shadows danced around us as I participated in the eerie rituals of feeding. Unlike the hunters of our group, I was always kept close to Chiril’s side, my unique magical abilities deemed too valuable to risk in the chaos of the hunt. Yet, I couldn't escape the reality of my actions as I drained the blood from unwilling victims brought before me, their desperate pleas echoing in my mind. However, after interacting with the Humans at this school, a gnawing guilt began to settle in my chest, an unfamiliar weight that made me question everything I once considered justifiable.

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As the thought lingered about what would become of me after we accomplished the covert task Chiril had entrusted to us, I couldn't help but wonder how I would reconcile my past and the darkness that loomed ahead—would I be able to walk away unchanged, or would the haunting faces of my victims follow me into whatever future awaited? But most of all, I wondered how I would feel after telling Chiril the news: I had found her.

Olivia

We all huddled in a circle in Claire’s room, which was oddly minimalist given her wild and quirky personality. The bed was dressed in plain gray sheets, and the walls were bare, lacking any of the vibrant art or posters you’d expect from her. I couldn't help but let out a little laugh—she probably didn’t get around to decorating much since she spent most of her time in either mine or Luke’s places, probably helping us mess up our rooms instead. It was kind of funny to think about how she made our chaotic spaces feel cozy while her own was so stark and tidy.

“Niles,” Hector mused, scratching his chin, deep in thought. Luke, with a focused gleam in his eye, picked up a quill and wrote Niles' name in bold letters on the large sheet of parchment we’d spread out in the middle of our makeshift circle.

“Looks like he’s got two accomplices,” Luke declared, doodling two short lines stemming from Niles’ name. “I’ll call them Blondie and Princess.”

He then jotted down “The Dark Matron” on the opposite side of the page, connecting the two with a line that seemed to pulse with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat. “First?”

Hector pointed at the line that linked Niles to the Dark Matron. “Vampires are children of the Dark Matron,” he said, his voice steady but serious.

Luke hurriedly scribbled down his thoughts, trying to keep pace with the direction the conversation was taking. He drew another line connecting the two. “Second?”

“He speaks Devalic,” I chimed in, my voice a bit more shaky than I would have liked. “The language of the old gods.” We had stumbled upon that name during our research into the curse mark, a long-lost language only resurrected by whispers of ancient beings and their initial creations.

“He's magical,” Claire interjected, her voice as bright as ever as she leaned in closer to the parchment.

Hector nodded, his gaze intense as he scanned the paper. “At this point, he’s our prime suspect. But we can’t afford to disregard the other two.”

He shifted his attention to me, his expression expectant. “Do you think you could dig up more on Blondie and Princess? Maybe throw some questions at Niles?”

“I only see him on Wednesdays,” I replied. “By the time next Wednesday rolls around, it might be too late.”

Hector sighed. “That’s definitely a point.”

“Maybe it's time for a little initiative,” Luke suggested. “If we could possibly find him today, we might just be able to get ahead of whatever is going to happen.”

“It’s Thursday,” Hector remarked. “Most second-years will have Weapons training at two. I’d say that's the ideal time to look for him since he'll likely have a free period.”

“Good idea. We should probably split up to cover more ground.”

“How will we know,” Claire asked, “if one of us finds him?”

I thought about it for a moment as silence fell over us.

“Ah!” I said, clapping my hands together. “I have an idea.”

I turned to Claire. “Do you have any string? About one yard long?”

She paused for a moment, contemplating my request. Then, with a determined look, she dashed over to the nightstand at the foot of her bed and flung open the drawer. After some rustling and shuffling, she pulled out a spool of jute string. She expertly unraveled a generous length and snipped it with a shiny pair of scissors before returning the spool to its cozy resting place.

“Here,” she said, offering the string to me with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

“Alright, everyone touch it,” I instructed, holding one end aloft.

They each reached out, pinching a segment of the string between their fingers, their faces a mix of intrigue and skepticism.

“Catena rumpitur,” I said, feeling the incantation prick at my fingertips like a gentle flame. In an instant, the string fell into four distinct pieces, each of us left grasping our own section, a sort of makeshift tether connecting us.

“A chain,” Luke remarked, gazing up at me, his expression impressed.

I quickly tied my string around my wrist and plucked it, strumming it like a guitar string.

“That is freaky,” Hector muttered, eyes wide as the three disconnected pieces vibrated in harmony with my strumming. They were apart, but somehow, the reality around them remained intertwined, as if the string still remembered its original form.

“If any of us finds him, strum three times,” I instructed, my voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety lurking in my stomach. “We can follow the strumming back to its source.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Claire exclaimed, her excitement palpable in the air as she hastily tied her own piece around her wrist.

With that, I felt a blend of nervousness and thrill wash over me. It may have been unofficial, but it sure felt like my first real mission as a true Blood Moon Hunter.

Victoria

I stood on the rooftop of the academy, taking in the sight of students streaming in for their morning classes. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the bustling campus, but something felt off. I tilted my head back, drawing in a deep and curious breath through my nose. The air was laced with an odd scent—tinny and metallic—while an almost electric pressure hung in the atmosphere, sending a familiar chill down my spine.

“It can’t be,” I whispered to myself, feeling the wind whip through my hair. “Not after all these years.”

“Headmistress?” a deep voice called out from behind me.

I turned to see our fifth-year student body leaders, Dex and Chloe, approaching with uncertain expressions.

“Good morning!” I replied, forcing a smile despite the growing unease. “I need your help with something important. I want you to find Headmaster Volcan and bring him back from his mission in Southwind.”

Dex furrowed his brow, clearly puzzled. “But I thought he said he didn’t want to be disturbed right now?”

“I know,” I said, my voice steady but urgent. “But this can’t wait. Not even a day longer. I would go myself, but I have something very important to check up on.”

“What should I say?” Dexter asked. “If he refuses to come?”

I let out a deep breath. “Tell him that I have a sinking feeling that our school is in imminent danger.”

Niles

I stretched my arms and inhaled deeply as I stepped out of my first class of the day: Hand-to-Hand Combat Practice II. The instructor had been skeptical about letting someone like me join in, so I ended up sitting out the entire session. Even though I tried to focus, I could hardly contain the restless energy bubbling inside me. The fresh blood that coursed through my veins was like a shot of adrenaline. I wanted to move, to run, but I had no way to dispel the energy while in the school. I decided to take a run through the forest during my upcoming free hour.

Just as I turned the corner, a familiar voice cut through my thoughts.

“Ah, Niles!” Professor Hawthorne called out, a warm smile lighting up his face.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” I replied, returning his smile.

“You're looking particularly vibrant today. I was hoping to catch you here,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “This is your free period, correct?”

“It is,” I responded, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“I was wondering if you'd join me for a walk. This is my lunch hour, but I’d much rather spend it continuing our conversation from the other day,” he offered, his tone friendly and inviting.

“Of course,” I said, feeling a slight pang of disappointment wash over me. My run would have to wait, but the prospect of chatting with Professor Hawthorne was still intriguing.

“Wonderful!” he said, gesturing for me to walk beside him. “Shall we go to the courtyard? It’s a beautiful day today.”

Olivia

I tiptoed through the brightly lit corridors of the academy, glancing at my makeshift bracelet, which remained stubbornly silent. It was 2:20. With most students entrenched in their classes, the halls were wrapped in an eerie calm. A sigh escaped my lips as I turned another corner, frustration creeping in. It felt like he had vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind. Had he simply retreated to his dorm during his free period?

I was supposed to be in First-Year Creature Studies, but today, I had willingly played hooky to pursue my mission.

“Come on, where are you?” I murmured under my breath, the soft echo of my voice bouncing off the walls.

“Where is whom?” a stern voice boomed from behind me, slicing through the stillness like a knife.

I turned to find Headmistress Victoria standing there, arms crossed and an expression on her face that could freeze fire.

“Ms. Ambrose, you’d better have a compelling reason for skipping class today,” she declared, her tone a clear warning that brooked no argument. My mind raced, searching for a suitable excuse, but nothing coherent came to mind.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. “I was actually looking for Niles.”

Her eyebrows shot up, her shock mixing with skepticism.

“Niles?” she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone. “Why on earth would you be searching for him?”

“Well…” I hesitated, feeling the weight of her piercing gaze. “I wanted to ask him about something from yesterday's Advanced Magic class. He mentioned my sword, and it’s been nagging at me all night.”

Victoria scrutinized me with an arched brow, clearly not buying it.

“That’s quite ironic,” she replied, almost to herself. “I happen to know where he is right now.”

“You do?” My heart raced with curiosity, hope igniting in my chest.

“He’s currently having lunch with Professor Hawthorne. Would you like me to take you there?” A hint of a grin crept onto her face but disappeared as fast as it had come.

“I would!” I exclaimed, perhaps a tad too eagerly.

With a soft smile, she offered me her arm, her strict demeanor giving way to something more friendly. We walked together in comfortable silence, the echo of our footsteps filling the air.

“Headmistress?” I ventured cautiously after a few moments, glancing up at her.

“Yes?” she replied, her gaze shifting down to meet mine.

“The last time the Blood Moon rose, you were there, right?” I asked, hesitantly.

“That’s a very odd question to ask,” she slowed her pace slightly. “But yes, I was there.”

“What happened?” I pressed, my interest piqued.

“Many strange things unfolded while the Blood Moon loomed overhead,” she said, her tone growing serious. “A lot of people died.” Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, “The creatures of this world lost their grip on reality, especially under the Blood Moon. We discovered that Werewolves transform every night the Blood Moon rises, regardless of whether or not it’s a full moon. Even Vampires become uncontrollable when it comes to their thirst for blood, and Humans—well, they are at their most vicious and deadly.”

“How long did it last?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For about five days, the Blood Moon hung in the sky each night. Those five days were a living nightmare,” she admitted, her voice heavy with the weight of memories. “We lost many brave Hunters during that time.”

We stopped walking for a moment, the gravity of her words hanging in the air.

“Why do you ask me about this now, of all times?” she inquired, her grip on my arm tightening slightly.

I looked up into her piercing eyes. Despite her friendly tone, her gaze bore into me like daggers.

“I’m just curious,” I lied, hoping she wouldn’t probe further.

“Curiosity can sometimes be a dangerous thing,” she warned, her voice turning serious. “I know that all too well.”

She guided me into the front courtyard, where the sun blazed down, casting a warm glow on the lush, green grass. The light danced off the surface of the gently rippling water in the moat surrounding the area, creating a picturesque scene.

A few students lounged lazily on the grass, soaking up the sun’s rays. Victoria pointed toward the leftmost corner, where a sprawling willow tree gracefully provided shade. At a rustic wooden picnic table beneath its drooping branches sat Niles and Professor Hawthorne, deep in conversation. Niles appeared much more at ease than he had the other day, a sight that brought me a wave of relief mingled with a flutter of nervousness in my stomach.

As we got closer, Professor Hawthorne looked up and immediately stood, nodding politely to Victoria, who regarded him with a curious expression I couldn’t quite decipher. He exchanged a few jovial words with Niles, punctuated by a hearty laugh before excusing himself and making his way back toward the school, offering me a friendly nod as he passed.

“As I promised,” Victoria said with a flourish, gesturing toward the table. “Here is young Niles.”

He stood and acknowledged her presence with a formal bow.

“Please, have a seat. I’m sure you have plenty to discuss,” she added, waving her hand dismissively. Before I could gather my thoughts, she released my arm and briskly turned on her heels, making her way back toward the school.

Niles and I exchanged a tentative glance, the silence between us feeling heavier than anticipated.

“Hi,” I finally ventured, taking a step closer to the table.

“Good afternoon, Olivia,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “I was just chatting with Professor Hawthorne, but it seems he vanished.”

“Yeah,” I let out a small chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “Headmistress Victoria seems to have done the same.”

“It is curious, isn’t it?” he mused.

“It is,” I agreed, the wind gently rustling around us, filling the silence that followed.

“Well…” He gestured toward the school, clearly about to make a point. “I was just about to—”

“Do you mind if we talk?” I interrupted, surprising even myself. He looked momentarily taken aback.

“I—” he hesitated, then said, “I don’t mind at all.”

I slid onto the bench and rested my arms on the table, while he sat down beside me, leaving an arm's length between us. I studied his face intently, contemplating the gravity of our conversation. His expression was serious, but there was something more relaxed about him—less gaunt than before, the dark circles under his eyes had nearly vanished, and his complexion looked noticeably brighter. His eyes, which had appeared nearly black in the green classroom light, now sparkled a striking shade of burgundy.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, interrupting the quiet that had wrapped around us like a thick blanket.

I paused, taking a second to gather my thoughts. It felt like I had a million questions buzzing around in my head, but the moment he spoke, my nerves kicked in, and I couldn’t seem to grab onto any of them. It was as if the very atmosphere around us was hindering my ability to think clearly, leaving me momentarily at a loss for words.

“Why did you decide to come to the Academy?” I asked, grasping onto the first coherent thought that came to mind.

“To become a Blood Moon Hunter,” he replied, “Like I said in class yesterday.” his gaze searched mine as if trying to gauge my reaction. His answer confused me. Blood Moon Hunters had hunted his species to near extinction. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t ever want to join those that destroyed my friends and family.

“But wouldn’t that be difficult for you?” I hesitated before asking, “You’d be hunting your own kind.”

“Well… It’s not my dream,” he admitted, his voice dropping slightly as he broke eye contact and lowered his head. “I was kind of forced into it by my coven leader.”

“That’s awful,” I said, feeling a pang of empathy for him. “But, in a way, I can relate.”

He looked back up at me, curious.

“My mother is a Blood Moon Hunter, a pretty famous one at that,” I continued. “I didn’t have a choice but to come here either.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his expression one of understanding.

“What is your dream, then?” I asked, genuinely curious about his aspirations.

He raised an eyebrow, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“I can’t say anyone has ever asked me that before,” he replied, letting a smile break through his serious demeanor. “Guess I’ll need to think about it.”

“What about your companions?” I probed. “Do they want to be here?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, his brow furrowing. “You know, I never really knew them before we came to the school.”

“Huh…” I frowned at this revelation. “What are they like?”

“Ella is very intelligent, and Duncan is quite the skilled hunter, but I don’t know much more about either of them,” he said with a hint of regret.

“And your friends?” he inquired, a friendly smile gracing his face.

“Well,” I said, searching for the right words, “We all grew up together. Except for Hector—he wasn’t around as much, but it always felt like it was us against the world, you know? I guess it still kind of is.”

I took a moment to breathe, feeling a bit of longing in my words. “I’d love to introduce you.”

He smiled brightly. He was undeniably attractive, even with his vibrant red eyes that glinted against his pale, almost ethereal skin. His sleek black hair fell effortlessly into place, framing his soft face with delicate features, while his impeccably straight teeth gleamed like polished ivory every time he smiled.

I raised an eyebrow and frowned slightly. “Why don’t you have fangs?”

He seemed taken aback for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before breaking into a playful smile.

“I do,” he replied, his tone light. “But they only make an appearance when I’m hungry.”

I couldn’t help but let out an awkward laugh, trying to shake off the oddness of my question.

“I’m sorry,” I said, a little embarrassed. “That was a strange question.”

He stopped, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Why are you in Advanced Magic II?” he asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “I skipped a year, but being two years ahead is quite impressive.”

I shrugged, feeling a touch shy as I answered. “I’ve always had a knack for magic, you know? It runs in my family—like yours, it comes from my mom. Though I wouldn’t say my gifts are anything extraordinary.”

He leaned in a bit, a hint of inquisitiveness dancing in his gaze. “Are you sure? Because I think you have something pretty special.”

I gave him a puzzled look, mulling over his unexpected compliment.

“I have a Passive,” he explained, catching me off guard. A Passive was a magical gift, a unique talent inherited through generations—not something you could master through practice; only those born with it could tap into its power.

“That’s incredible!” I replied, my excitement clearly visible on my face. “What exactly does it do?”

He slowly raised his hand into the air, inspecting it as if he could pull answers directly from the ether.

“I can intertwine my energy with someone else’s,” he explained, glancing back at me. “It allows me to glimpse their emotions and history. It’s hard to articulate, but I can sense things just by being near them.”

My heart raced with curiosity. “What about me? What do you see?”

“I haven’t really focused it on you yet,” he admitted, his gaze lingering on me. “I can pick up hints from a glance, but I usually don’t delve deep unless invited or asked.”

“I’d like you to try it on me,” I said, my curiosity peaked. “I want to know what you can see.”

He slowly turned to face me fully, extending his hand forward, stopping just before reaching me. A gentle breeze swirled around us as he closed his eyes to concentrate.

“Olivia Ambrose,” he began, a smile creeping onto his face. “You’re 16 years old, and your partner is Hector Sabu. You have a remarkable aptitude for various forms of magic, but the source of your power—” He suddenly flinched, as though he’d touched something burning, and I felt a shocking pang in my chest, a familiar sting that reminded me of the time Hector had reached into my core.

“Khxlynd’r,” I thought, the realization hitting me like a wave.

Niles pulled back, rubbing his hand as if he’d been bruised.

“I’m really sorry,” I started to say, guilt building within me.

“It’s okay,” he reassured me quickly. Without thinking, I reached for his hand, an instinctive gesture like I would have done with Hector or Claire. But he flinched back, creating an uncomfortable distance between us, and I suddenly remembered the fragile nature of our situation.

“I apologize,” he muttered, suddenly rising from his seat. “I think I should go.”

Before I could even find the words to stop him, he had already turned and hurried back toward the school. A sharp pang of regret shot through me, realizing how I’d messed up our conversation. I buried my face in my arms on the table with a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of questions I never got to ask him.

Just as I was about to wallow in my disappointment, a wave of panic hit me as I remembered the bracelet. Frantically, I checked my wrist but only felt my warm skin—no bracelet in sight. My heart raced as I looked around, searching under the table and in the grass, but it was like it had vanished into thin air.

“Oh no,” I breathed, the anxiety swelling in my chest. I sprang to my feet and made my way toward the school, hoping to retrace my steps and find the lost piece of string.

Victoria

As Archimedes and I leaned close to the edge of the roof, the view of the quiet courtyard sprawled out before us—a scene of stillness that felt almost dry now that Olivia had departed, leaving the bench to languish in silence after Niles' exit.

Archimedes huffed triumphantly, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “I told you he wasn’t the type,” he quipped, glancing down at the ground below.

I smirked, letting my eyes wander back to him. “They all are,” I replied, my curiosity piqued. Despite the perfect opportunity he’d been given, the Vampire had held back from biting the girl, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration at his restraint.

I pondered the consequences if he had taken that leap—Olivia was no ordinary girl, and her tainted blood was like a treasure trove of magical potential. It could either amplify his own abilities astronomically or deliver a death sentence, much like what had happened to so many who’d dared to challenge Marcus.

“We’ll see how this plays out,” I murmured, holding up the frayed piece of jute and letting it slip from my fingers, where it was quickly caught by the gusty wind.

“Come, Archimedes,” I said, already turning away from the rooftop ledge. “We’ve got a lot to prepare for before sundown.”

Olivia

I returned to the entrance of the first-year dorm with a defeated sigh. The bracelet was nowhere to be found. I had searched until my legs ached, but to no avail. I hadn’t returned to my classes and had combed over the entire campus. I finally gave up when the sun began to set.

“Olivia!” Claire said, running up to me and giving me a tight hug. All three of my friends were waiting for me by the front door.

“Hey, guys,” I said, a frown plastered on my face.

“I’m sorry,” Claire said, returning my frown. “We didn’t have much luck.”

“We came back here after the free period ended, but you didn’t show,” Hector added.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I found him.”

“What?!” Claire exclaimed.

“Why didn’t you call us?” Luke questioned.

“My bracelet slipped off,” I replied. “I have no clue what happened to it.”

Hector wore a frustrated look on his face.

“You should have come and found us,” he said in a stern voice. “It’s not safe for you to be with him alone. He could be a murderer, after all.”

“What did you find out?” Claire asked, her eyes sparkling in the dim moonlight.

“The other Vampires are Duncan and Ella,” I said.

“Blondie and Princess,” Luke echoed, folding his arms.

“It’s strange,” I said in a hushed voice. “He said he was kind of forced to be here. He never actually wanted to attend. His coven leader made him.”

“How strange…” Claire said, her voice trailing off.

“That fits,” Hector remarked. “If he’s our guy, then he probably would have no interest in attending this school for just reasons.”

“I think we should—” I hesitated, feeling a chill run up my spine as if a breath of frigid air had swept through. Yet, the night remained eerily silent. Luke suddenly turned his head, eyes darting toward the dark expanse of the woods.

“Did you guys just hear that?” he asked, his voice tense with uncertainty.

“Hear what—” Hector began, but his words fell away as a weighty pressure filled the air around us. It felt like we were trapped inside an encased bubble where all sound had been snuffed out.

Luke dropped to the ground, clutching his ears, and Claire quickly followed suit, panic etched across her face. The earth began to tremble violently beneath us, sending vibrations through my bones, while a deafening roar surged through the silence, reminiscent of a massive steam engine tearing by overhead. Loose bricks from the first-year dorm building teetered on the edge, narrowly missing us as they tumbled to the ground.

Hector shouted something, but his words were too muffled to hear. He pulled me into his side to shield me from the surrounding chaos.

“What is that?” I tried to yell, but my voice was swallowed by the terrifying cacophony. I glanced at Luke, who had curled into a fetal position, but with his eyes fixated on the sky. Following his gaze, I felt my heart plummet as I noticed the moon slowly shifting from bright white to a deep, ominous crimson.

The Blood Moon.

The light surrounding us changed to a striking, deep red, and as the shaking subsided, the thunderous noise gradually faded.

Hector stood, offering a steadying hand to help me up while Claire struggled, trying to pull Luke from his curled-up position on the ground.

Suddenly, a grating scratching noise reverberated behind us, making my hair stand on end. I turned just in time to see a gaping hole hovering ominously just a few meters away, almost pulsating with dark black energy. Deep smoke billowed out as a massive paw, adorned with gleaming silver claws, emerged from the void, digging into the stone ground as it pulled itself through.

Slowly, two deep red eyes cut through the swirling smoke, glowing fiercely against the night. As more of its form emerged, I could see it looked like a colossal black wolf, its fur a thick shroud of putrid smoke, coiling around it like a living shadow.

A Hellhound.

It bore the mark of the Dark Matron on its left shoulder, the rune glowing softly in the night.

The air was thick with an acrid stench, a harbinger of the doom it brought. Suddenly, a soul-chilling howl erupted from the creature, blasting through the air like the wail of a banshee, threatening to rupture our eardrums and freeze our very souls. It dropped low to the ground, muscles rippling beneath its darkened hide as it inched closer, eyes locked onto us, glowing with predatory hunger. The ground seemed to tremble beneath its weight, and my heart raced with the knowledge that this was a beast conjured from the Dark Matron, a herald of finality.

I prayed that this was just another one of my nightmares, indistinguishable to be at the moment. But as the creature lunged forward, the last vestiges of hope I held onto extinguished like a fading star; we were utterly, hopelessly doomed.