The alarm rang, jolting me awake. My chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths, remnants of last night's catastrophe still clinging to me. But as my vision adjusted, I realized I was in my hostel, safe.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the lingering haze. My surroundings slowly came into focus; my bed, my desk, my belongings untouched. It felt surreal, considering where I had been last night.
Across the room, Pink sat on a stool, her focus locked on the large mirror as she applied her makeup. Her strokes were precise, practiced. When she caught my reflection stirring behind her, she paused, turning slightly.
With a forced smile, she greeted me, "Happy Sunday, roomie."
Then, just as quickly, she turned back to the mirror, continuing her routine as if nothing had happened.
I pushed myself upright, my head still foggy. "Wh-what happened yesterday?" My voice was hoarse, my memory a blurred mess.
"A lot," she replied flatly. She stood, slinging a mini pink handbag over her shoulder. "I'm off to church. You coming?"
I shook my head. "No. I don't go to church."
She raised an eyebrow, curious, but before she could ask, I added, "It's complicated."
Pink held my gaze for a moment before shrugging. "Well then, see you later." And with that, she left.
As soon as the door shut behind her, I dragged myself to the mirror. My fingers traced my neck, searching for the imprint of last night, of Nemus. But there was nothing. No bruises. No lingering pain. It was as if his iron grip had never touched me.
A chill ran down my spine. How was this possible?
The memories of last night swirled in my mind like a haunting melody. Nemus. The chaos. The darkness creeping into my consciousness before I blacked out. What happened after that? And more importantly, who was that man?
The questions gnawed at me, but I knew I wouldn't find answers standing there. Pushing my thoughts aside, I grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom.
After freshening up, I sat at my desk, flipping open my laptop. If the school had any record of last night's incident, it would be in the news section or, at the very least, the gossip groups.
I scrolled through headlines. Nothing.
Not a single mention of a monstrous intruder, a supernatural showdown, or the sheer destruction that had unfolded at the basketball court. Not even a whisper in the student forum.
I frowned. That wasn't normal. At a school like this, even a minor fight became the talk of the week. But this? This was aerased.
"Something fishy is going on," I muttered under my breath, staring at the blank screen.
And then, there was that nagging thought again.
Who was that man?
...
The next day at school, life moved on as if nothing had happened. Classes went on as usual. Students gossiped about trivial things. No one mentioned Saturday night.
It felt… wrong.
At recess, I grabbed two lunch packs from the cafeteria, one for me and one for Jesse. The least I could do was thank him. He had saved me. And despite our history, despite the fact that he clearly couldn't stand me, he had chosen to stand up for me.
That meant something.
As I stepped into the basketball court, my heart stopped.
It was spotless. No blood. No broken equipment. No sign that a battle had taken place there. The hoop stood perfectly intact. The bleachers unscathed.
I swallowed hard. Whoever covered this up had done a damn good job.
Shaking off the eerie feeling, I made my way to the players' locker room. Only a few players were inside, stretching or doing minor workouts.
At a corner, Jesse sat alone, hunched over with a distant look in his eyes.
"Hey," I called softly.
He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "What can I do for ya?"
There was a coldness in his voice, but I pressed on.
"I just wanted to thank you for Saturday night," I said, holding out the lunch pack. "Here, I got you lunch."
His gaze flicked to the container, then back to me. "I'm full," he said flatly, turning away.
I exhaled sharply. "I know you don't like me, but can you at least accept this as a token of gratitude? You don't have to be rude about it."
At that, he stood, walking toward me with a slow, deliberate pace.
"I said I'm full, bitch," he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, shoulder-checking me as he walked past, he left.
Heat crept up my neck, not from anger, but from embarrassment.
Silently, I placed the lunch pack on the bench where he had been sitting, his name boldly written on the lid. Then, without another word, I turned and left.
As I neared the court exit, I almost collided with Zack.
"Terra!" he exclaimed, surprised. "You're in school?"
I frowned. "Yeah. Why?"
His expression darkened. "You're supposed to be taking treatments." He leaned in, inspecting my neck.
I pulled back slightly. "I'm fine."
"You sure?" He still looked unconvinced. "After everything that happened, you should be resting."
I offered a small, tired smile. "Maybe. But a break isn't what I need right now."
He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Just… take care, okay?"
I gave him a reassuring nod before heading off.
After school, I stopped by the clinic, hoping for answers—answers about why there wasn't a single mark on my neck.
The moment I stepped inside, the nurse looked up.
"You must be Terra Tunes, right?"
I froze.
I knew that face.
His sharp blue eyes, fair skin, and light brown hair, he looked exactly like the man who had intervened at the basketball court.
My pulse quickened. Who was he?
"You okay?" a voice giggled behind me.
I turned to see a girl sitting on one of the sickbeds, a bandage wrapped around her waist. She had fair skin, an average height, and strikingly beautiful features.
"Stop staring at the old man like that," she teased. "He's not gonna eat you up."
The nurse chuckled. "It's fine, Joy. I'm used to it."
"Hi," the girl said with a wave. "Name's Rejoice, but my friends call me Joy."
I barely heard her. My mind was still spinning as I blurted, "How are you alive? I watched Regina kill you."
Joy chuckled. "I'm a vampire, Terra. I can't die. Unless you cut off my head or drive a stake through my heart."
I stiffened, my gaze shifting back to the nurse.
"And you," I accused. "You were the one who stopped the brawl that night. What are you?"
He offered an innocent smile. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."
My frustration boiled over. "I swear it was you! You were holding a long stick, you controlled the atmosphere!"
At that, he sighed. He exchanged a glance with Joy before finally admitting, "Fine. It was me. I'm Doctor Raymond. I'm a magician."
I gasped. "A magician? Seriously?"
Joy smirked. "So, you heading to practice?"
I blinked. "Why?"
"Basketball practice. Saturday's the competition. They're training every day after school now."
I shook my head. "I don't think I'll be able to make it."
"You should rest," Raymond advised, handing me my results. "You look stressed."
He wasn't wrong.
I stepped out of the clinic, gripping the papers in my hands.
This wasn't over. In fact, I had a terrible feeling this was just the beginning.