Chereads / Scarlett and Sinister / Chapter 7 - The Options

Chapter 7 - The Options

Rogue's presence was a suffocating void. The towering, dark form of his sinister self moved like a shadow through the broken halls of Saint Isaac High School, the very air recoiling as he stepped into its long-forgotten corridors. Moonlight spilled through shattered windows, casting warped, unnatural shapes that seemed to crawl along the walls. A sickly silence pervaded, punctuated only by the creaking of old wood and the distant flutter of wings—a sound that could belong to bats, or something far worse.

Professor Ruso felt the presence before he saw it—a cold, malignant energy that sent a chill down his spine. His breathing hitched as he turned, his glasses slipping to the tip of his nose, and his eyes widening at the sight that confronted him. Rogue's shape loomed, his outline barely human, a twisting amalgamation of darkness and rage. Sinister, glowing eyes peered from a face contorted by fury, the sharp angles of his features highlighting a grin that was more of a threat than a smile.

"P-please, you're not supposed to be here!" Professor Ruso's voice quivered, the quill in his hand slipping to the floor. He had spent years researching the occult, dabbling in rituals that bordered on madness itself, but nothing had prepared him for this—confronting the very being he had summoned with such indifference.

"Not supposed to be here?" Rogue's voice was a guttural growl, reverberating through the empty classroom like a beast's roar from deep within a cave. "I exist in every dark corner of this damned place. I am beyond 'here' or 'there,' professor."

Ruso took a trembling step back, bumping into his desk and knocking over a stack of dusty tomes. "You—you should be in Vidynn! You're not bound to this realm anymore!"

Rogue's eyes narrowed, and the air grew thicker. "I'm not bound? Is that what you think? That I'm free?" He advanced, slow and deliberate, his presence casting unnatural shadows across the room, swallowing the light. "No, Professor. I'm cursed. Because of your pathetic little ritual and your lies."

Ruso's mouth opened, words forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Rogue surged forward, seizing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet effortlessly. Ruso dangled, his face drained of all color as Rogue's claws dug into his flesh, drawing thin lines of blood. The professor whimpered as Rogue's face leaned in closer, so near that he could feel the malevolent energy radiating off him like heat from a roaring furnace.

"You gave me false hope," Rogue snarled, each word dripping with venom. "You said my wish would be granted, that I could be at peace. And now I'm nothing but a hollow shell, a prisoner of my own existence." He squeezed tighter, making Ruso gasp for breath. "You'll give me a solution, or I'll rip the skin from your bones and feed it to the shadows."

Ruso clawed at Rogue's hand, his glasses slipping off entirely. "L-listen, please! There is a way—two ways—to end this! B-but you must… let me down."

Rogue's grin widened into a monstrous sneer. "Speak, worm. Before I decide to rip your tongue out instead."

With a violent shove, Rogue dropped Ruso, sending the professor sprawling across the floor. Coughing and spluttering, Ruso scrambled backward, putting a shaky hand to his bleeding neck. His eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at the malevolent figure before him. He finally forced himself to meet Rogue's gaze.

"There are two ways… two possible paths," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The first… you must find the people who caused this madness. The ones who rang your doorbell… the ones who pushed you over the edge. Confront them. Kill them. Only their deaths can sever the chains that bind you to your torment."

Rogue's eyes flickered with a sinister light. "Kill them?" he echoed softly, the prospect seeming to intrigue him. "That sounds… almost too easy."

"It's not!" Ruso blurted out, trembling violently. "You think it's easy to track them down? To figure out who did what, who drove you to this state? It could be anyone—neighbors, strangers… even friends. And the consequences—" He cut himself off, swallowing hard. "If you choose this path, their blood will stain your hands forever. You'll become something even worse than you are now. A pure, unbridled force of vengeance."

Rogue's lip curled. "Blood doesn't bother me, Professor. I've seen enough of it to paint this entire school red."

Ruso flinched at the icy tone. "Th-then there's the second option," he stammered. "You… you could inhabit the body of a mortal. Accept the flesh as your own. Become one with it and abandon your spirit form. Only then can you find… a semblance of peace."

Rogue tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. "Inhabit a mortal? Why would I want to imprison myself in weak, pathetic flesh?"

"It's—it's the only way to find peace!" Ruso said desperately, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "You'd have a chance to live again. To feel. To escape the agony of what you've become. You'd still be you… but human."

Rogue stood motionless for a moment, his glowing eyes flickering. Then, he threw back his head and let out a laugh—a hollow, bitter sound that echoed through the empty halls. "A chance to live again? You think I want to be human after what humanity has done to me?" He bared his teeth, his grin more feral than ever. "No, Professor. There's nothing left for me in the world of the living."

"Please… please, I'm only offering what I know!" Ruso pleaded, his hands shaking. "These are the only paths available! I swear it on my life!"

Rogue's laughter stopped abruptly, and he crouched down, his face inches from Ruso's, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And what if neither works, Professor? What if I remain trapped like this, forever?" His voice darkened, a low, menacing growl. "What if I come back here and tear this school apart, brick by brick, looking for you?"

Ruso swallowed, his mouth dry as sand. "If… if it doesn't work… I'll—" He hesitated, then forced the words out. "I'll take full responsibility. I'll offer my own soul to you."

Rogue's grin returned, slow and terrifying. "Your soul? Do you really think I want that wretched thing?" He rose to his full height, towering over the cowering professor. "But I'll hold you to your word. If I fail, I'll be back." He pointed one long, clawed finger at Ruso. "And I'll make sure you suffer, for as long as I exist."

Ruso nodded frantically, his head bobbing up and down like a puppet's. "Yes, yes, of course! I swear it!"

Rogue stepped back, his form shifting and distorting, as if barely contained by the space around him. "Good." His voice was soft, almost a hiss. "Now… I have some old friends to visit."

With that, he turned and walked toward the door, his shadow stretching out behind him like the maw of some great beast. The darkness seemed to swallow him whole as he passed through the threshold, leaving Professor Ruso alone in the room. Ruso let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and collapsed against the desk, his body trembling uncontrollably.

But even as the terror slowly ebbed away, a nagging thought gnawed at the back of his mind—what if Rogue did succeed? What if he truly found peace? Would he, Ruso, be free from this nightmare… or would the malevolent force return, no matter what? He shuddered and pressed a hand to his forehead, muttering a silent prayer.

Outside, the night air was thick with an ominous calm. Rogue's form dissipated into the darkness, his body melting into the shadows that clung to the corners of the school. He drifted through the town, his mind whirling with fury and confusion. The people who had caused this madness, who had pushed him into this hellish existence… who were they?

Each unanswered question only fueled his rage. He would find them, every last one. He would ring every doorbell in this accursed world if he had to, tear down every house, and spill as much blood as necessary until he discovered who had made him what he was. And then, they would pay. Oh, how they would pay.

Rogue glanced back at Saint Isaac, his eyes narrowing. "For your sake, Ruso," he murmured, "you'd better hope this works." With a final snarl, he vanished into the night, his form blending seamlessly into the void from which he'd been born.

Somewhere, deep within the twisted maze of his mind, a laugh echoed—a hollow, mocking sound that seemed to go on forever.

The hunt had begun.