Chapter four: The duo
1026 Words
Chapter Four
Clara’s POV
What?
The word barely formed in my head before my body reacted.
I ran out of my dormitory, heart pondering hard against my ribs. The hallway lights were like dying stars, and the moment my feet hit the corridor floor, I slipped.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
Thick, dark, smeared across the tiles like someone had dragged pain itself through the halls. My breath hitched as screams pierced the air, students running past me, crying, shoving, some slipping and falling, others too terrified to look back.
“What’s happening?” I whispered to myself, my voice shaking.
My legs trembled, but I forced myself to stand. The academy felt different, angrier, louder, alive in the worst possible way.
“Over here, Clara.”
I spun around.
Dora.
She stood at the far end of the corridor, her presence glowing faintly against the chaos. Relief washed over me, and without thinking, I ran toward her.
We moved quickly, weaving through pools of blood and broken glass. I tried not to look too closely at the stains, tried not to imagine who they belonged to.
Finally, we reached the edge of the school grounds.
Hidden behind twisted trees and overgrown weeds stood a hut looking very old, abandoned, and unsettling. Its wooden walls were cracked with age, symbols carved into them so deeply they looked like scars.
“This place…” I murmured. “What is it?”
Dora didn’t answer.
Instead, she drifted closer to the entrance.
Inside, the air was heavy and thick with something ancient and suffocating.
On the cold floor sat two women, facing each other, surrounded by candles that burned with unnatural blue flames.
“Who are they?” I whispered.
Dora turned to me, her expression serious.
“Go and find out for yourself.”
My chest tightened.
“But before you do,” she added quietly, “know this, those two women are very powerful. They control everything that’s happening here.”
Before I could ask another question, she vanished.
Just like that.
I stood there, staring at the entrance, my heart pounding violently.
Strangely enough, with everything I had seen in this godforsaken school, fear no longer ruled me.
Anger did.
I stepped inside.
The moment I stood between them, my breath left my body.
My stepmother.
That alone should have shattered me.
But it didn’t.
Because sitting opposite her, looking calm, composed, smiling faintly was Principal Toria.
My knees felt weak.
“How… how could you?” I whispered.
The same woman who stood in assemblies promising our safety.
The same woman who claimed to protect us.
She was killing her own students.
I looked down.
Between them lay heads.
Human heads.
Frozen expressions of terror. Faces of Students who had disappeared. Students who were supposed to be safe.
Rage exploded inside me.
“What exactly is going on here?” I snapped, my voice echoing through the hut.
Principal Toria chuckled softly.
“You’ve been far too nosy ever since you stepped foot into this school,” she said calmly. “And it’s high time you learned your place.”
Before I could respond, my stepmother burst into laughter.
“All these students,” she said mockingly, “were sacrifices. Necessary ones.”
My blood ran cold.
“They were meant to bring your hopeless mother back to life,” she continued. “She died with something I desperately need. Something powerful.”
“No, you can’t.....” I stopped myself mid-sentence.
I couldn’t reveal it.
I couldn’t let them know the truth that the power they were searching for had already been transferred to me the moment my mother died.
Principal Toria stood.
“Clara,” she said coldly, “we will need you. But for now…”
She smiled. “You will go dumb.”
A sharp pain tore through my throat.
I tried to scream.
Nothing came out.
Their laughter echoed as darkness swallowed me whole.
-----------------
When I came to, I was back on the Heights Academy premises.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Students walked around like nothing had happened.
But when I opened my mouth to speak....
Nothing.
No sound.
No voice.
Panic gripped me.
Days passed.
Dora never appeared.
Maybe revealing myself had been a mistake.
Maybe I had made things worse.
I blamed myself constantly, sinking deeper into guilt and fear, until one afternoon, someone stopped in front of me.
“I think I can help you, weirdo.”
I looked up.
A boy stood there, about my age, with curious eyes and a lazy smile. I frowned and gestured, asking how.
He chuckled and reached for my hand.
The moment our hands touched, something warm pulsed through me.
“Come on,” he said.
We walked through a narrow bush path leading far outside the school. Eventually, we reached a small house hidden deep in the woods.
Inside was an old woman.
His grandmother.
Her eyes glowed with power.
Without asking many questions, she placed her hands on my throat and whispered words I couldn’t understand.
Pain surged.
Then.....
Relief.
My voice returned.
As I prepared to leave, she called out to me.
“Be very careful, child,” she warned. “People who can do such things are capable of killing without remorse.”
I nodded.
Walking back with her grandson, silence stretched between us.
“So,” he finally asked, “how did you lose your voice?”
“Some witches in Heights Academy,” I replied flatly.
“Witches?” he laughed nervously.
“Don’t play dumb,” I snapped. “Who do you think is behind all the strange things happening in that school? And why do you think your grandmother warned you never to remove the necklace she gave you?”
He fell silent.
I sighed.
“A lot is going on in that school,” I said quietly. “And I will get to the bottom of it.”
“I advise you don’t, weirdo,” he replied.
I glared at him, turned away, and left him standing there.
Because whether I liked it or not...
This was my fight now.
- Writer
