The lights of the hospital wing were off. The halls were silent except for the light tap of boots on the floor. There were twenty rooms in this wing of the hospital. Twelve of which were empty now. The footsteps stopped at the end of the hall. A light flickered on, artificial blue glow enveloping the room. The steps continued, finally coming to an end beside the bed. The ceiling light spluttered and went out.
The figure, looming over the hospital bed, shot a glare at the light switch. The weak blue glow returned. Turning back to the bed, a hand reached out from underneath the dark cloak of the mysterious visitor. Leaning over the bed, he touched the patient's face.
His hand came away, cold with the feeling of a lifeless body. Beneath the shadow of his hood, his eyes went wide. Hands shaking, he reached out to feel the silent patient's pulse.
"That's impossible."
He fumbled, casting spell after spell, as the colorful glow of each one flashed through the darkness of the hospital. But none of them worked. The patient remained cold, unmoving, and unresponsive.
"This isn't supposed to happen!" the visitor screamed, voice echoing into the hopeless night. "You were alive last time."
The figure walked around the room, thinking about the possible causes of this circumstance.
"It would have been impossible, unless..."
He rushed back to the patient's side, flipping her on her back. And there it was, a very small magic circle, delicately drawn at the base of the patient's neck. So small that he could barely see the intricate workings of it.
"This isn't your body. You're from...!"
If he could copy this spell, then he would be able to bring her back. The visitor began drawing the magic circle, trying his best to copy each angle and stroke. Finally, after failing multiple times, he had successfully cast the correct spell.
The figure watched as an identical copy of the patient before him rose from the magic circle. But this time, she was alive. Now all he had to do was figure out what to do with the body. After changing her clothes, he laid the new copy on the hospital bed.
"I suppose I could just devour you," he said to the now useless dead shell of the patient. He paused for a moment, looking her up and down. Then he sighed, covering his eyes with his hands. But still, he tried to peek through his fingers. "I doubt that you'd want me to keep this memory."
Holding the dead patient's body in his hands, he touched his lips to hers. He could feel the residual energy from her empty shell flowing into his body. She stayed there, in his arms, until he had completely absorbed her body.
"I miss you so much, ████."
***
"I am Icarus du Ciel."
Cleo met Theo's eyes. This was wrong. This was totally and completely wrong. Icarus was not supposed to appear at Eldritch Academy until there were only five students left. Why was he here so early? And as if his appearance was not enough, the remaining students at the academy were completely different from the original ones. Cleo knew that they were straying too far from the story for her to predict the following events correctly.
But how had Icarus managed to get into the academy?
***
Apparently, because the academy only accepted groups of even numbers into the school, they had to find a replacement for Marianne. And the Duchess had put forward her son, Icarus du Ciel.
Cleo looked up at the front of the room. The headmaster was there, along with the new kid. Suddenly, his eyes met hers. Smirking, Icarus gave Cleo a wink. Simultaneously, she and Cecil decided that they did not like him.
"Please send a welcome to our new student," the headmaster announced.
"My name is Icarus du Ciel. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The other nine students just looked up at him blankly. What could possibly happen with one more student added to the mix? Six people had died already over the break. The cause of many of their deaths were either unknown or suspicious. Cleo had no way to guess who would be next. She just hoped that it would not be her.
"I don't think I like this one..." Grace, another student, said in a whisper. "He gives off this...energy."
"You can say that again," Theo replied, lowering his voice as well. "He's definitely up to no good."
"I think he's quite fine," Madeleine. "He's pretty handsome."
Whispers filled the room. Some positive, some negative. But they were all focused on this new student. How would he fare against the others? How would the rankings change?
***
Julius was sitting in his private office when his door was thrown open by none other than Cleo.
"I...have...something...to...say...!" she panted, as the door swung weakly on its hinges after bouncing back from the wall it had been slammed into.
"Cleo...! I...don't...just...barge...into...office...!"
Laura stumbled into the room gasping for air. Julius sat glued to his chair, too surprised by the scene before him to move a muscle.
"Uh..."
"You know something, don't you?" Cleo said, pointing a finger at the poor librarian, still glued to his chair. "What are you hiding?"
"Cleo-" Laura started, but stopped when Julius gave her a nod. She understood, leaving the room.
"How did you figure it out?" he asked, standing up and walking over to where Cleo was standing.
"Your reaction that day. You sighed. As if getting hit by a truck was just a possibility that you had expected. You definitely know something."
"How observant. But everyone has their secrets. And mine are nothing short of confidential. Perhaps, one day you will find out, but now is not the time."
"Then could you at least tell me anything you know about Icarus?"
Julius looked around the room. "I can't tell you anything right now. Someone is watching us. But I can do this."
He reached for Cleo's wrist, and began to draw a complicated magic circle. Only when he was almost done, did Cleo realize that he was making a memory transfer rune.
"Why-"
"Shh!" Julius shushed her. "Someone could be listening."
"Who?"
He motioned for her to be quiet. "Now, off with you, dear. I assume there are classes for you to get to."
Cleo nodded and left.
When Julius was sure that she was gone, he turned to his desk. He carefully pulled open a creaky wood drawer. Inside, there was a photograph. It was faded, but not beyond recognition. Julius picked it up, blowing off a light layer of dust. He coughed.
There, in his hand, was the sole reason he had never stopped fighting. Even after those years trapped in the cold darkness of that...thing, he had never forgotten. He placed it gently on the desk. Taking out a pen, he quickly scrawled a message over the photograph. Then he crumpled it, balling it up and tossing it into the trash. Huffing, he stormed out of the room, violently slamming the door shut behind him.
***
A slim finger stretched out from beneath a bundle of darkness. It touched the glowing orb where Julius' office could be seen through the magic spell. After flicking the angle of the image, the scene zoomed in on the trash can. And there it was. That crumpled photograph of a boy and a girl. One with silver hair and the other with black. One with blue eyes and the other with red. One wielding an all-too-familiar sword, and the other, holding a book that both existed and did not. A paradox.
But it wasn't.
The scene zoomed in so that the words that Julius had written could be seen clearly. A moment later, the magic orb was on the floor, smashed to pieces. The clump of darkness was, in fact, a person. He stood there, body enveloped in his dark cloak, hand shaking from the impact as well as from anger. But the orb still flickered on, refusing to give up.
"H-how dare he...!"
The cloaked figure turned, stepping over the crushed orb. His hand closed into a fist. "You would rather fight me then give into the fate set in stone? I am the Collector. You cannot possibly hope to win when I know everything about you..."
He disappeared into the shadows, his last word echoing ominously around the room.
"...Cecil."
The magic orb was still glowing. And in its damaged screen, there was the message Julius had left for the Collector:
"Don't touch my daughter."