Chapter 2:Nightmare
1358 Words
The school bell rang.
The sharp sound cut through the air.
“Professor Ace?”
“He’s early again today.”
“Looks like he didn’t even go home last night. He’s wearing the same clothes.”
The overlapping voices pulled Ace out of a shallow, restless sleep. He groaned softly, squinting as sunlight streamed in through the window beside his desk. The light was too bright, too sudden. His head throbbed as he slowly opened his eyes.
One by one, familiar faces came into view—the teachers he worked with every day.
It was only then that reality hit him.
The faculty office.
Morning.
Ace’s eyes widened. He immediately checked his watch. 8:35 a.m.
“I slept… here?” he murmured under his breath.
“Ace, that’s some next-level workaholic behavior,” a voice teased. “And you even slept in the office.”
Ace looked up and saw Draven Cole, one of his closest friends, standing nearby with his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face.
“H-huh? No, it’s not like—” Ace started, instinctively trying to deny it.
But the moment he tried to stand, a sharp pain shot through his body. Ace hissed, his knees almost buckling. And then— Like an electric shock, a memory slammed into his mind.
Alpha.
Cedarwood scent.
His breath caught.
No. It's just a nightmare, right? But he couldn’t be wrong. Last night wasn’t a dream.
His hands trembled as he hurried to the mirror. When he pulled his collar aside, his blood ran cold. There—clear against his skin—were faint but unmistakable bite marks, along with bruises scattered along his neck and collarbone.
His stomach dropped.
Draven noticed it too. His eyes widened in shock.
“Wait—are those—”
Ace reacted instantly, pulling his collar back into place and turning away.
“What?” he cut in sharply, grabbing the books he needed for his class. “You’re going to be late. Come on.”
Draven blinked, clearly confused. Then he laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Mosquito bites, huh? Makes sense. The aircon was off and the window was wide open last night. Seriously, Ace—you should take better care of yourself.”
A wave of relief washed over Ace, even though his hands were still shaking.
Mosquito bites.
He let the excuse settle—for now.
But his mind was in chaos.
What happened last night felt fragmented, blurred around the edges, like a memory submerged underwater. The Alpha. The scent. The pressure. The fear. The kiss.
And then—
Phone…
The call…
Mom…
Ace’s chest tightened. Everything had started with that call. The silence. No voice. No sound.
Panic surged through him as he hurriedly searched his desk.
“Ace, what are you looking for?” Draven asked. “Aren’t you heading to class?”
Ace’s fingers finally brushed against his phone—lying beneath the desk.
There.
He grabbed it immediately.
“Draven,” Ace said quickly, forcing his voice to stay calm despite the storm raging inside him, “I’m going to take the day off. Can you cover my classes for me?”
Draven frowned. “Huh? Now?”
“Please,” Ace said, already turning away. “I owe you. Thanks.”
With his phone clenched tightly in his hand, Ace stepped out of the faculty office—his heart pounding, his thoughts fixed on one thing and one thing only.
His mother.
Ace drove straight toward their house, his hands tight around the steering wheel as he repeatedly called his mother’s number.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
No answer.
With every unanswered ring, the pressure in his chest grew heavier, tighter—until it felt like he could barely breathe. His heart pounded violently, each beat echoing with a growing sense of fear he couldn’t shake off.
Please… answer.
Last night replayed itself in fragments inside his head—the silence on the phone, the storm, the Alpha, the cedarwood scent, the kiss that stole his breath and his control. His jaw clenched as guilt settled deep into his bones.
If it hadn’t been for that Alpha last night—
If he hadn’t been delayed, trapped, shaken—
He would have gone home. He would have seen his parents.
Now, all Ace could do was hope—pray—that nothing terrible had happened.
Ace’s Residence
The moment he reached the house, Ace jumped out of the car and ran straight to the front door. His heart hammered violently in his chest as he pounded on it with shaking hands.
“Mom! Dad!” he shouted. “I’m home!”
No answer.
The silence was deafening.
Panic surged through him. With trembling fingers, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key. The moment the door swung open, Ace felt as though the world beneath his feet collapsed.
Blood. It was everywhere. From the living room to the kitchen, dark stains smeared the floor and walls. Furniture was overturned, objects scattered violently—as if the house itself had been torn apart. There was no doubt about it.
Someone had broken in. Someone had attacked.
“Mom…?” Ace whispered, his voice barely audible.
His legs shook as he forced himself to move. Fear clawed at his throat, but he ran up the stairs anyway, each step heavier than the last, his breathing uneven, his vision blurring.
Please be alive. Please…
He rushed to the second floor. Then he saw them.
In the bedroom, lying motionless on the floor, were his parents.
Ace’s breath shattered.
Their hands were tightly bound. Their mouths sealed with tape. Blood soaked into the sheets and floor beneath them. The wounds were unmistakable—deep injuries at their necks, and gunshot wounds near their hearts.
His parents.
His mother.
His father.
Gone.
Ace’s strength gave out completely. His knees hit the floor as a broken sound tore from his chest. The world spun violently, his vision blurring with tears as grief crashed over him like a tidal wave.
“No… no—” he sobbed, crawling toward them on shaking hands.
He reached for them desperately, his fingers fumbling as he tried to undo the bindings, as if freeing them might somehow bring them back.
“Mom…” His voice broke. “Dad…”
A strangled sob escaped him as he pressed his forehead against the floor beside them, tears streaming uncontrollably.
“No… please…”
The house remained silent.
If it weren’t for that Alpha, Ace would have made it home. He might have arrived in time. He might have helped his parents. He might have changed everything.
The thought crushed him from the inside. Ace didn’t know what to think anymore—didn’t know where to place the blame, or how to make sense of what had happened. His mind kept circling the same questions, over and over, with no answers in sight.
Why them?
His family had lived a simple, quiet life. They weren’t wealthy. They weren’t powerful. His parents ran a small neighborhood eatery, working long hours just to make ends meet. They were kind people—people who avoided conflict, people who had no known enemies.
Ace knew this for a fact. That was why he couldn’t understand it. That was why it hurt even more. How could something so brutal happen to people who had done nothing wrong?
His hands clenched tightly at his sides as rage began to burn through the grief, hot and unforgiving.
There are still demons in this world.
Monsters who preyed on the weak. Who destroyed lives without reason.
Ace lifted his head, tears streaking his face but his eyes now blazing with resolve.
“I swear,” he whispered, his voice shaking but firm, “I will give you justice.”
His chest ached as he pressed a trembling hand over his heart.
“Mom… Dad… don’t worry. I won’t let them trample on you,” he vowed. “I won’t let this be forgotten.”
His jaw tightened, grief hardening into something sharp and unbreakable.
“I will avenge you.”
- Writer
