In the midst of the chaos, Cynthia's instincts took over as she realized the dire situation that had befallen them. Imposing imps, with menacing intentions, began to swarm the kitchen. Without a moment to spare, she unleashed her cantrip, flinging small bolts of lightning with pinpoint precision. The bolts struck the imps in their malevolent eyes, instantly frying their brains. It was a desperate act of self-defense, as there was no time to cast a more elaborate spell.
As Cynthia fought back, the lights within the mansion shifted to an ominous red hue, and a formidable ward enveloped the entire estate, shielding it from the relentless onslaught of imps attempting to breach its defenses.
Amidst the turmoil, Kyle found himself in a state of utter shock, his mind struggling to process the grim reality of Amber's demise. The sinister, shadowy demon loomed over him, its grotesque grin revealing serrated teeth stained with her blood.
With resolve, Marcus stepped forward, summoning his magical prowess. He incantated, "GLACIES ILLUM INCLUDAT!" as icy tendrils sprouted from his hands, encasing the malevolent demon in a rapidly forming thin sheet of ice. The spell exerted a toll on Marcus, causing his nose to bleed, but it succeeded in rendering the demon temporarily immobile.
Rushing to Kyle's side, Marcus shook him urgently. "Fucking snap out of it! We have to move, or we're gonna fucking die!" The gravity of the situation demanded swift action and a united effort to survive the relentless onslaught of darkness that had descended upon them.
Marcus's display of magical prowess sent a clear message to the cunning and malevolent imps, they seemed to think twice about confronting him directly. They weren't mere mindless beasts; their focus shifted to the other students. A sense of self-preservation drove them, and they appeared to value their own safety. If a student managed to defeat one of them, the others noticed and steered clear, adapting to the situation.
Kyle, under the influence of Marcus's leadership, saw the spark return to his eyes. With a commanding roar, Marcus rallied the other students, urging them to follow him. They navigated through the harrowing scene, stepping over the lifeless bodies of their fallen classmates. Those who possessed the skills to do so launched cantrips at the imps, hoping to thin their numbers and secure their escape.
Eventually, Marcus led the group to the basement, where they encountered a fortified door. With a simple touch, Marcus activated the scanner, and the door opened, allowing the students to enter. The room inside had a semblance of comfort, with three beds, a bathroom, and a kitchen. However, it was filled with a mix of panicked, injured, and a few peacefully sleeping students. Erick and Penelope were among those present.
Erick approached Marcus and gave him a heartfelt hug. "Good job, man," he praised.
Marcus, still grappling with the chaos they had found themselves in, responded, "I never thought we'd ever need to use your bunker. By the way, what the hell happened?"
Erick, just as perplexed, admitted, "I have no idea. Have you seen Federica?"
Marcus shook his head. "No dude, only at the beginning of the party, then she disappeared."
Concerned, Erick inquired, "What about Cynthia?"
"Haven't seen her."
Realizing the dire situation, they were in, Erick emphasized, "Shit! We need to find out where they are. We need the six of us to get out of this mess."
"The six of us?" Marcus sought clarification.
Erick nodded. "You, me, Kyle, Federica, Cynthia, Penelope. We're the only ones who can actually cast spells, which means we're the only ones with a shot at getting out of this mess and a better chance of ensuring the others don't get killed. Most of these guys can't even cast a stable cantrip, so we're the only hope anyone has."
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Marcus asked, "Okay, what do you want me to do?"
Erick outlined the plan, "You, Josh, and Jenkins need to find Cynthia and Federica. If you come across other students, there are two plans of action. If they can't cast anything stable, Josh and Jenkins should stay at your location while you bring them back here and then rejoin them. If they can cast, instruct them on how to find us. Look, it's not the best of plans, but I only had five minutes to come up with it."
Marcus replied, "Well, it's better than my plan."
Erick, intrigued, asked, "What was your plan?"
"I was just gonna go out there and box. They've got nothing on me. Plus, this is the fight I've been waiting for," Marcus explained.
Erick managed a slight chuckle, a welcomed moment of light in the prevailing darkness.
As tension gripped the room, Penelope couldn't ignore the crimson stain under Marcus's nose. Concern etched across her face, she voiced her worry, "Wait, before you go, are you hurt? You're bleeding."
Unfazed, Marcus brushed it off with unwavering confidence, "It's nothing."
Penelope, however, was not as assured. Her voice quivered as she expressed her reservations, "I don't like your plan. They could get hurt. We all need to stay here."
Erick, displaying a strong resolve, countered, "The guys will be fine. They're big boys."
Penelope attempted to continue her protest, but Erick interrupted her calmly. "We have no choice. If we stay, we're just waiting to die. If they find Cynthia and Federica, there might be a chance for us to survive."
Reluctantly, Penelope nodded, her gaze returning to the injured students she was tending to.
Erick beckoned Josh and Jenkins. Josh seemed hesitant, while Jenkins, perhaps fueled by the alcohol still coursing through his veins, appeared eager for an adventure, despite having declined detoxification from Penelope.
Jenkins, in his somewhat inebriated state, couldn't contain his enthusiasm as he moved toward the door “Alright let’s fucking do this!!”. However, Erick quickly intervened, preventing him from proceeding, "Nah, you're gonna get yourself killed like this, and we don't have time for games. This is serious."
Jenkins appeared to be an unpredictable storm of wild antics, his imposing physique serving as an unexpected contrast to what seemed like less-than-imposing mental faculties. Despite his young age, he already sported a beard that added an oddly mature touch to his overall appearance. His actions unfolded like a tempest, a whirlwind of unpredictable behavior that belied the stereotypes one might associate with his physical presence.
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Frustration marked Jenkins's expression as he attempted to protest, "But, Erick, I-"
Erick cast an incantation, "Fac ut suadeo," bewitching Jenkins temporarily. He then instructed him to seek sobriety from Penelope. Jenkins complied, returning to a sober state.
The tension in the room rose as Erick's actions perplexed those who bore witness. Even though they were aware of Erick's proficiency in bewitchment, using it in such a manner was uncharted territory for him.
Penelope, after a moment of contemplation, agreed to restore Jenkins's sobriety with a spell, saying, "Intoxicationem ex corpore tuo discedere possit." Jenkins was promptly relieved of his inebriation.
Behind Jenkins, Erick covertly formed a strange symbol with his fingers before releasing a subtle cantrip.
This caused some lingering frustrations in Jenkins, but Erick tried to reason with him, "Dude, come on, we're friends. I'm doing this for you. Look around, people are injured, some dead, some stressed out of their minds, so much I had to put them to sleep."
Jenkins wrestled with his anger towards Erick. Despite his lingering irritation, he couldn't help but acknowledge that Erick was probably right. After all, they were friends, and deep down, he knew Erick's intentions were rooted in their safety. Going out into the unknown while still inebriated was a reckless move.
As the moments passed, the fire of Jenkins' fury gradually began to wane. He realized that Erick's wisdom and experience had led him to make this difficult decision, and, in his heart, Jenkins knew it was the right call.
With some reluctance, Jenkins acknowledged Erick's point, "Yeah, yeah, you're freakin right." He proceeded toward the door alongside Marcus and Josh.
Erick, ensuring they were prepared, asked, "All of you have runic phones, right?"
They responded in unison, "Of course."
"Awesome if shit gets hot just ping your location and I’ll come, our send Kyle if I can get him back up," Erick said, casting a glance toward Kyle, who sat in a corner of the room, still processing the situation.
Marcus, Josh, and Jenkins pushed the door open, stepping into the unknown, their hearts heavy with the hope of rescuing their trapped classmates. Unbeknownst to them, unimaginable horrors lurked in the shadows, awaiting their arrival.
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Meanwhile, the shadowy demon, once encased in a thin shell of ice, shattered its icy prison with unnerving ease. Its face twisted into a malevolent, serrated smile. Had it given the intruders enough of a head start to make this hunt more interesting? The demon's mind reveled in the thought of butchering every mage within the house, savoring the anticipation. Yet, it sensed something amiss—a significant number of imps were destroyed, which promised a kind of gruesome amusement. With wicked intentions, it made its way towards the kitchen.
As it entered the kitchen, a horrific scene met its eyes. The floor was strewn with the lifeless bodies of imps and students. However, in its single-minded determination, it made a critical oversight—it failed to look up. If it had, it would have noticed the refrigerator hanging ominously above him. What it did hear were faint whispers, echoing through the kitchen.
"COME OUT, MAGUS!" The demon roared, its deep, malevolent voice shaking the room.
As if responding to its call, the refrigerator suddenly doubled in size and plummeted downward, crashing upon the demon's head. In an instant, the malicious creature was reduced to a chaotic, black mesh that began to shift and reform itself into its former shadowy form. However, it was noticeably smaller than before, a consequence of its loss in size.
Meanwhile, Cynthia, who had masterminded this desperate plan, emerged from her hiding place in a cabinet, her form now that of a small child. She darted away from the gruesome scene; her mission having succeeded in part. The shadowy demon, while diminished, was far from defeated, and the horror within the house was far from over.
In its current state, the demon resorted to a grotesque act, consuming the dead bodies strewn around it to regain its lost size. It was a horrifying sight, a macabre feast of death and darkness.
Cynthia hurried through the house, quickly reverting to her normal size. Being small had its advantages for hiding, but it proved a hindrance when she needed to move swiftly. Her destination was clear: the master bedroom. Though she had never been to Erick's house before, she knew his father held mastery over Aether, and his room might contain something to help her escape the dire situation she found herself in. As she ascended the stairs, she suddenly halted when she spotted an unfamiliar figure.
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Meanwhile, at the crime scene, Diana had just arrived and was surveying the massive hole where the mansion had once stood with Richard and Angela.
Angela displayed a phlegmatic demeanor, exuding an air of stoic calmness. Her straight posture and impeccably buttoned appearance hinted at an unseen force driving her forward. From her neatly aligned blond hair to precisely applied mascara, every detail spoke of meticulous control.
While Richard's controlled choleric demeanor gave off an air of potential explosiveness, despite his charming, buttoned-up appearance. His slicked-back hair hinted at a careful concern for how others perceived him, creating an intriguing tension between his poised exterior and the underlying energy waiting to be unleashed.
Suddenly, a student materialized in the center of the devastation, enveloped in a puff of black smoke. The girl was unconscious and severely injured, yet miraculously, she clung to life.
"Holy shit, we need a medic!" Diana's voice cut through the chaos as she and her fellow detectives rushed to the injured girl. Upon reaching her, they were met with a grim sight—cuts and lacerations marred her body. Fortunately, a medic arrived just in the nick of time.
"Claude vulnus carnis," chanted the medic, invoking a spell that sealed the girl's wounds.
"We need to take her to a hospital; she still has damaged organs and has lost a lot of blood. It's beyond what I can do here," the medic informed the team.
"Mihi suam fabulam revela," Diana incanted, her magic allowing her to learn more about the unconscious girl even as she was wheeled away on a stretcher.
"What did you find?" Richard inquired.
"Rebeca Ross, 17 years old, attending Elkheart High School, dreams of acting, daughter of Edward and Lily Ross, no siblings, and her casting abilities are not exceptional," Diana relayed.
"That's not much to go on," Angelica remarked.
"Tell the captain I'm going with her. If I have more time, I'll be able to figure out what happened," Diana decided, signaling to the medics as she hurried toward the waiting ambulance.
"We'd better solve this quickly, or she'll steal all the glory," Richard said, a sense of urgency in his voice.
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Back in the panic room, Kyle sat huddled in a corner, grappling with the weight of Amber's tragic death. He couldn't help but wonder if it was his fault, if only he had reacted more quickly, perhaps he could have saved her. The thought of the unresolved kiss and the uncertainty of her response haunted him, but now, it was all irrelevant. Amber was gone, and she had been his only friend.
Then, Kyle's thoughts shifted to Cynthia, another friend he had, although her demeanor was often harsh, he believed it stemmed from a good place. He contemplated seeking her out, but quickly dismissed the idea, fearing he might only be a hindrance to her. Cynthia was undoubtedly the most skilled among them, and he didn't want to get in her way.
His thoughts grew increasingly dark, and he found himself blaming himself for the tragic events, even when it wasn't his fault. His mind refused to release him from the grip of guilt.
A soft voice interrupted his reverie, and he recoiled in shock. It was Penelope, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.
"Hey," she said, her voice tender, "Are you hurt? I've been doing my best to heal everyone."
Kyle surveyed the room and noticed that most of the students, approximately twenty of them, were now stable, with some even sleeping. He calculated that Penelope had to perform at least twenty consecutive castings. His gaze then turned back to Penelope, her eyes sunken and bloodshot, sweat drenching her, and blood slowly dripping from her nose.
"Are YOU alright?" Kyle inquired, now deeply concerned for her.
"I'm fine," she replied with a strained smile.
Kyle, however, was not convinced. "No, you're not. You're clearly over channeling; you should not cast anymore. Your ley lines might rupture," he warned, knowing the dangers of overusing the Ley lines that run through the body to harness aether. He gently pressed his hand against her forehead and realized she was burning up. If Penelope continued like this, she risked irreparable damage to her body, even death. Kyle was determined not to let history repeat itself.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"You need cold water and sleep," he urged anxiously.
"I dormi," Erick incanted.
“I’m telling you, I’m fin-” said Penelope as she fell unconscious
Panicked, Kyle thought she had passed out, but Erick assured him otherwise.
"Don't worry, I just put her to sleep," Erick said.
Relieved that Penelope wasn't unconscious, Kyle couldn't help but be conflicted about Erick's methods. However, he lacked the courage to confront Erick about it.
"Look, I had to expedite the process. She wasn't going to listen to you. This is for her own good. Help me move her to a bed," Erick explained, trying to reassure Kyle even as they differed in their approaches to handling the situation.
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In the dimly lit hallway, atop the stairs, Cynthia found herself face to face with a mysterious figure. He was a man dressed in a dapper suit, and by his side was a shadowy cat with an abnormally long tail. The man turned his attention to Cynthia.
"Ah, greetings, dear lady. My esteemed companion and I have most fortuitously meandered into your charming abode, bewildered by its unexpected presence in our secluded domain," he said with an air of casual charm.
Cynthia regarded him cautiously. "Who are you?" she asked, her senses on high alert.
The man, known as Sir Crowley de Moniac, introduced himself with an air of sophistication. "Oh, pardon me, Sir Crowley de Moniac, shvur-zeeler and arch-demon."
Sir Crowley was the epitome of sophistication and distinction, commanding respect and admiration wherever he went. His demeanor and attire exuded an air of refinement. Yet, it was his eyes that gave away his true nature. His slit cat like pupils and the red irises that encircled them, revealed the unmistakable mark of his fiendish origins.
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Cynthia's mind raced as she calculated her options. He hadn't attacked her immediately, which suggested he might be open to reason. However, he was an arch-demon, and engaging in a direct confrontation would likely prove futile. For now, her best course of action was to keep him talking and gather as much information as possible. Perhaps an opportunity for escape or a solution would present itself.
"Ah, a shrewd mind," Crowley acknowledged. "Pray, be at ease, for my attention towards your humble self is indeed benevolent. In truth, my sole intention is to offer my aid and support to your cause.. I have already facilitated the escape of one of your esteemed compatriots from this wretched realm. Your part in this endeavor is simple, for all that is required of you is to grant me y-"
As he drew closer to Cynthia, he sensed something amiss. A realization flashed across his demonic eyes.
"Alas, it seems you would be of no use to me," he lamented, disappointment evident in his tone. "I possess scarce a moment to squander on mere simulacrum."
"Apologies duly noted for the misemployment of my time," he concluded, and with a command, he beckoned his feline companion. "Bastet, to me." The shadowy cat obediently walked beside him as they headed downstairs, leaving Cynthia standing there, shocked by the encounter.
In those few moments, she realized that the arch-demon had the ability to discern what she really was, leaving her in a state of profound unease and uncertainty.
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As Marcus, Josh, and Jenkins made their way out of the basement, they couldn't help but notice the absence of imps in the house, which was rather disturbing but not as disturbing as the body parts littering the floor. Marcus signaled for them to stay quiet, and the eerie silence, combined with the dim red lighting and macabre litter, created an unsettling atmosphere. They proceeded cautiously, their senses on high alert. Soon, they heard sobbing emanating from one of the bathrooms, and the three of them exchanged uneasy glances.
"Aw, hell naw," whispered Marcus.
"So, we avoid that, right?" whispered Josh, his fear palpable.
"Y'all a bunch of pussies," Jenkins quipped with bravado. He decided to take the lead and approached the bathroom, swinging the door wide open. Inside, they found a girl in tears who appeared to be another student. The sudden intrusion startled her as she shielded herself away from Jenkins.
"Is it over?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Yes, because I'm here," Jenkins proclaimed confidently.
"Quit playing around," Marcus chided, pushing past Jenkins along with Josh. They stared at the frightened girl; uncertainty etched on their faces.
Josh knelt down and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Hey, what's your name?"
"Zoe," she replied, her face still buried in her arms.
Josh glanced at Jenkins and Marcus, both of whom seemed unsure about how to proceed.
"Who did you come here with?" Josh asked gently.
"Joe," she responded, her sobs continuing.
"Joe who?" inquired Josh.
"JOE MAMA!" Jenkins exclaimed, bursting into laughter at his own joke. Josh and Marcus, however, were unamused. “Okay, tough crowd, was it Joe Miles, cause that dude is soooo dea-” Marcus swiftly put an end to Jenkins' antics with a well-placed tap to the groin.
"Cheap shot," Jenkins grumbled in agony.
"Yes, Joe Miles," Zoe replied, tears still flowing.
"Can you cast?" Marcus inquired, and Zoe shook her head.
"Okay, according to Erick's plan, in this situation, you guys stay put, and I bring her back," Marcus said, outlining the plan.
"Zoe, do you think you can stand up? We have a safe place," Josh asked in a gentle tone.
Zoe wiped her face with her sleeve and, with some effort, managed to stand up. As she rose, the guys finally got a good look at her, and they were taken aback by her unearthly beauty, which caused their hearts to collectively skip a beat.
Zoe possessed a seductive appearance that could captivate anyone in her presence. Her voice was like a siren's song, drawing people in with its alluring melody. Her face, with its striking beauty, rivaled that of Adonis, making her an object of desire. All of this allure was contained within her lithe and graceful frame, creating an irresistible package.
Marcus was quite pleased with the situation, relishing the opportunity to play the hero for a damsel in distress.
"Okay, so...uh, come with me. You guys stay here," he instructed, addressing Jenkins and Josh.
"Ayyy, why do you get to go with her?" Jenkins questioned, clearly envious.
"It's Erick's plan, plus you'd get killed out there," Marcus explained, defending his role.
"No, I wouldn't," Jenkins retorted.
"Okay, duel me then. You win, you get to go," Marcus proposed.
"Okay, then I'll—" Jenkins began to accept the challenge, but Josh intervened. "Guys, enough," he interjected. "Jenkins, you're 21-0 against Marcus. You're not winning anytime soon."
Jenkins, while irritated, knew that Josh spoke the truth. "Fine," he grumbled, retreating to a corner to sulk.
Marcus and Josh shared a resigned look, and then Marcus's face quickly reverted to its jovial state.
"Okay, you're coming with me," Marcus said to Zoe. She came to his side, and she put her arm around him. While Marcus couldn't help but feel ecstatic about the situation, he maintained his composure as they headed out of the bathroom.
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At the crime scene, Richard and Angela had been busy gathering information and questioning witnesses. They reconvened to compare their findings.
Richard shared his report first. "From what I got from the neighbours, one of the kids in this place threw a party, but I'm not sure what happened next. I've cast everything I can, but nothing is hidden."
Angela countered with a smirk, "You rely too much on magic. That's why I'm a better detective than you." Richard rolled his eyes at her comment. She continued, "The residence that once stood here belongs to one Solomon Blaze, an extradimensional researcher. He lives here with his son Erick Blaze and niece Penelope Scarlet. Apparently, Solomon is not around very much, and Erick threw a party for his 18th birthday. Beyond that, I'm unsure."
"Wait, you still don't know what happened?" Richard teased.
Angela looked at him with uncertainty. "Who's the bad detective now?"
Richard explained his theory, "It's clear that some drunk kid might have gotten into one of Mr. Blaze's runic items and transported the house."
Angela found that idea hard to believe. "What? That's impossible."
"Why?" Richard inquired.
"Okay, so you're telling me he had runes to transport his entire residence without his Etheric print. That doesn't make any kind of sense," Angela argued.
While the logic behind Angela's argument was sound, Richard had witnessed crazier things in his career. He decided to contact someone at the station to gather runic information about the Blaze residence and any available information on Solomon Blaze.
"By the way, wasn't this an all-hands-on-deck situation? Where are the other detectives?" Richard questioned.
Angela provided an update, "Well, Erickson is undercover, Savage is on vacation, and Huang and Alvarado are still suspended."
"Wait, didn't they get suspended for firing three six-circled spells without authorization?" Richard inquired.
"There’s a little more to it than that but yeah, why?" Angela responded.
Richard's theory began to take shape. "Maybe one of the kids tried to fire one of Solomon's spells, and it backfired."
"Impossible," Angela objected.
"What now?" Richard asked.
"That would take a seven to nine-circled spell. If some high schooler attempted to cast it, they would just burn up. It's impossible that they would even get an effect from a miscast," Angela explained.
With a hint of arrogance, Richard retorted, "What are they, seventeen to eighteen? I could have totally pulled off something like this. I would have died in the process, sure, but I think I could have pulled it off."
Angela remained uncertain, while Richard was confident that his theory was headed in the right direction. He believed that they needed more information, and he was eager for Diana to return with additional insights to confirm his suspicions.
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The shadow demon, now fully sated from his gruesome feast, was a towering monstrosity, his head nearly reaching the ceiling. His thoughts were consumed by the burning desire for revenge against Cynthia, envisioning tearing her asunder in the most brutal manner. However, his contemplation was interrupted by a sense of déjà vu – this time the entire house was devoid of imps. Had more skilled mages arrived? He pondered.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, approaching the kitchen. The shadowy demon grinned maliciously, anticipating the opportunity to unleash his wrath on an unsuspecting intruder. However, when the figure entered, it was not what he expected. It was Sir Crowley, accompanied by his shadowy cat Bastet.
"Oh, bully," Crowley remarked, seemingly taken aback.
"Who are you?" the shadowy demon growled.
Sir Crowley, displaying an air of pompous disdain, responded with a touch of sarcasm. "Indeed, in the customary etiquette of our time, it is incumbent upon one to proffer their own name before inquiring after another's. However, I understand that such expectations might be deemed excessive when dealing with an individual of what some may regard as a lower station in life."
Infuriated, the shadowy demon advanced toward Crowley, each heavy step causing the ground to tremble. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" he bellowed.
"Uhg, the revolting countenance, the most unpleasant aroma, the disquieting cadence of speech, and the inharmonious deportment, dear sir, you indeed present yourself as a grievous affliction upon refined sensibilities," Sir Crowley exclaimed in utter disgust.
The shadowy demon, consumed by rage and frustration, extended his formidable claws and lunged at Crowley with a deadly swipe. However, the arch-demon dodged the attack with a graceful and effortless sidestep, avoiding the dangerous strike with uncanny agility and finesse.
Crowley's revulsion was evident as he continued his derisive commentary. "What perturbs me most about demons of your ilk is their crudeness, which undeniably besmirches our reputation. You'd obliterate mortals through the savagery of rending and feasting upon their flesh, when there exist souls ripe for reaping. This is precisely why I saw fit to rid myself of your subordinates," he declared, expertly dodging each of the demon's clawed swipes with grace and ease.
"IT WAS YOU!" the demon roared, causing the kitchen to shake.
"Indeed, you are absolutely correct, and I dare say, the next in line for my actions shall indeed be you," Crowley declared as he snapped his fingers. In an instant, the shadow demon was transformed into solid stone. With a swift kick, Crowley shattered the petrified demon into countless tiny fragments.
"How uncivilized," Crowley muttered as he dusted himself off, his contempt for the crude and brutal nature of the demon clear in his expression.
As Marcus and Zoe made their way through the crimson lit hallways of the house, Zoe clung tightly to Marcus, expressing her gratitude for his help.
"Thank you for helping," Zoe said, her relief evident in her words.
"No problem, that's what I do," Marcus replied, and they shared a moment of silence as they continued their cautious journey. However, Marcus's curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist asking about Joe.
"So, was Joe your boyfriend?" Marcus inquired.
Zoe chuckled at the question and responded, "No."
"Ah, cool, cool, cool," Marcus muttered, seemingly satisfied with her answer.
But then, Zoe's demeanor shifted subtly, and she became slightly more flirtatious. "No, if I had a boyfriend, he'd be tall, muscular, brave, and really good at dueling," she confessed, all the while holding onto Marcus more tightly and gazing deeply into his eyes. Marcus couldn't help but notice that she was essentially describing him.
As thoughts raced through Marcus's mind, considering the possibilities of a more intimate connection, he wondered if there were any bedrooms or even a couch nearby. After all, the imps seemed to have vanished. However, their moment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps and an oddly soothing hum. Instinctively, Marcus positioned himself between Zoe and the source of the noise.
The footsteps drew nearer and eventually revealed Sir Crowley, who paused to cast his gaze upon Marcus and Zoe. In a tone dripping with disdain and cryptic eloquence, Crowley commented on their situation.
"How vulgar, though one must abstain from casting aspersions upon the means by which others endure. It is, after all, a lesser impropriety compared to the practices of our inferiors. My heart aches for you, my gallant companion, as another has already laid claim to your essence. However, might you be inclined to disclose the whereabouts of more of your compatriots? I assure you; my sole intention is to extend my assistance unto them."
Baffled by the elaborate yet enigmatic words of Sir Crowley, Marcus could only manage to ask, "Um, can you repeat that, dude?"
Zoe, however, was not interested in further explanations. Her instincts took over, and she urgently declared, "We need to run." Taking Marcus by the arm, she began to dash away with him. Bewildered but trusting her judgment, Marcus followed, and their escape was guided by a sense of impending danger.
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Cynthia's desperate search for the master bedroom led her through the labyrinthine first floor of the sprawling house. The spatial runes that had expanded the house's dimensions vexed her, and she couldn't help but wonder how Erick and Penelope could live alone in such an immense place. However, her thoughts were quickly pulled back to the pressing matters at hand, particularly her unsettling encounter with Sir Crowley, the enigmatic arch-demon.
Along her way she stumbled along, the dead bodies of her former classmates and a few strange statues that appeared to be demons and imps all with a noticeable chip like they had been stabbed.
As she ventured deeper into the house, Cynthia stumbled upon another set of doors. Swinging one open, she found herself in a spacious library, where Federica sat engrossed in a book. Yet, Federica was not as she remembered her. A significant portion of her body had transformed into blue, translucent crystals, her irises glowed with an eerie blue light, and small, gentle blue flames danced upon her skin.
Cynthia's voice wavered as she addressed the mysterious figure, "Federica?"
Federica, or the entity that now inhabited her, responded in an uncanny tone, "Was that her name?"
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Cynthia sighed in exasperation, realizing that she was now forced to confront yet another otherworldly presence. She couldn't believe how swiftly her world had descended into chaos since their unexpected transportation. The blue flames that enveloped Federica hinted at pure Aether which Cynthia was familiar with due to her expertise in Aetheromancy cantrips. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and she couldn't help but mutter her realization.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, it was you," Cynthia muttered.
Federica, seemingly unfazed by her revelation, smiled as she admired her crystalline form. "This is the first body I've ever possessed, and I am so lucky for it to be made so pure," she remarked.
Cynthia had little time to contemplate the implications of Federica's possession, her thoughts interrupted by an abrupt declaration.
"BEAR WITNESS TO MY POWER!" Federica exclaimed, conjuring four arcane circles that surrounded her. From the Aether, multiple swords materialized and hurtled in every direction. Cynthia attempted to evade the deadly projectiles, but their sheer number overwhelmed her, and one of them impaled her abdomen. She grimaced in excruciating pain, realizing that her injuries were grave. Amidst the pain and fear, the sight of what had transpired in the library struck her deeply. Federica had harnessed the raw power of Aether to cast a spell without the need for an incantation. It was impossible, and yet it had happened before her very eyes.
Cynthia's desire to understand how this was possible was abruptly cut short as eight arcane circles materialized around Federica, enveloping her in a mesmerizing display of magic, and then, in an instant, she vanished.
Inside the ambulance, the medics worked diligently to keep Rebecca stable, weaving intricate symbols and casting spells to ensure her well-being. One of the medics gave Diana a nod, and she began casting a spell of her own, "Mihi suam fabulam revela." This incantation allowed her to catch glimpses of Rebecca's life, from her childhood to her parents' brutal divorce, her first kiss, her first cantrip, her first intimate moment, and finally, the party and the horrors that had transpired. Diana was determined to piece together the events and understand the deal Rebecca had made with Sir Crowley to come to the surface in exchange for her soul.
Diana's panic grew. She needed to share this critical information with her superior and her colleagues. She quickly dialed her Captain on her phone, hoping to get in touch with the others.
Back at the crime scene, Captain Connors was in the midst of an interview with the press when his phone rang. He excused himself and stepped away from the cameras and microphones to take the call.
"Captain, there's been a development. The house has somehow been transported to hell," Diana informed him.
The captain's tone was serious as he inquired, "Did you use prognostication?"
Diana confirmed, "Yes."
The captain understood that this was not mere speculation but a disturbing reality. He now faced the daunting task of figuring out how to rescue these students from their perilous situation in hell.
Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated from the hole where the house had once stood. The captain, along with his two detectives, Richard and Angela, rushed toward the hole to investigate. Inside, they encountered Federica, possessed and wearing a wicked grin...
As Federica stood in the midst of the chaotic scene, she floated into the air and conjured six arcane circles with an ominous purpose. She unleashed a rapid, massive sphere of pure Aether, targeting the onlooking crowd of neighbours, concerned parents, and uniformed officers. The destructive blast turned most of them into cindered remains and triggered a colossal explosion, sending shockwaves of panic throughout the area.
With a sinister grin, the possessed Federica proclaimed, "This is going to be delightful."