CHAPTER 8: Betty's Identity 2
1455 Words
“Mister Martin,” the principal began gently, “we haven’t expelled her yet. But maybe you can talk to her? I believe she might open up to you.”
Mr. Martin exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. “Ma’am, I don’t even know where she stays. I don’t own her. I just decided to sponsor her education.”
He shook his head in quiet frustration. “I don’t understand that girl. She’s… strange. I guess I wasted my time and effort on her. I’ll take my leave now.”
“You didn’t waste your time,” the principal replied, her voice thoughtful. “Claudia is brilliant. In fact, she’s the only student who’s ever challenged Betty’s scores.”
Mr. Martin forced a thin smile, then offered his hand. “Thank you for your time, ma’am.”
On returning to his car, something caught his eye—a note on the driver’s seat.
---
Mister Martin,
Thank you for picking me, for believing in me without knowing much about me. I’m not a witch… though something strange did happen between Betty and me. It’s a mystery even I don’t fully understand.
They will come for you, sir. Please, act like you’ve never met me. Even if they suspect, even if they ask, let them believe I was never with you.
I am haunted.
Leave your house. Go far—far away from here where they’ll never find you. And please… don’t look for me. You won’t find me. Don’t go to my usual spot—because that place hides the house of the beast.
Thank you. For everything.
—Clara
---
Martin stared at the paper, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel. A cold unease settled in his chest.
“I have to get my things. I can’t just leave everything behind,” he murmured, starting the engine.
---
Meanwhile, back at the school…
A strange wind brushed through the windows as a group of odd-looking individuals strode confidently onto school grounds.
“Attention, class,” the principal said, her voice tense. “Some… visitors are here to ask a few questions.”
“Let them,” someone mumbled nervously.
A tall, graceful woman stepped forward, eyes sharp and commanding. Anastasia. “Hello, beautiful children. Don’t be afraid. Just a few simple questions,” she said with a chilling smile.
Betty’s blood turned cold.
Anastasia? Her thoughts swirled in panic.
“I’m looking for a girl,” Anastasia announced, her tone dripping with calculation. “Beautiful, dark curls, always with a frown. Recognize the description?”
Betty rolled her eyes. “Not so beautiful, but you must mean Claudia.”
“Clara,” Anastasia corrected softly, a glint of triumph in her eyes. “Where is she now?”
“She got expelled a few hours ago,” the principal offered.
Anastasia gave a subtle signal. Two of her men exited the class quietly.
“Does she have friends? A guardian?” she continued.
“Some dummies—Danielle and Eric,” Betty quipped with a laugh that didn’t quite mask her anxiety.
No one else dared speak. The room had turned to ice.
“Who can guide me to their house?” Anastasia asked, her voice sharp.
“I’m afraid students can’t leave the school until classes are over,” the principal explained nervously.
Anastasia’s eyes turned pitch black.
“I will not repeat myself, ma’am.”
Fear swallowed the room. The principal, now pale, offered Mister Martin’s address.
“Guard them,” Anastasia instructed before sweeping out.
Outside, Betty caught up with her.
“I want to talk,” she said.
Anastasia turned, her interest piqued. “I like your guts.”
“Anastasia, why are you here?” Betty asked, her voice lower.
Recognition flickered in Anastasia’s eyes. “Betty?”
With a shimmer of magic, Betty transformed.
A monster, half-beauty, half-terror. Green and black wings. Green-streaked hair. Fanged teeth.
“I thought you were dead, Your Majesty. Does the queen know?” Anastasia bowed.
“She does. Why are you hunting Clara?” Betty asked.
“She’s the child of prophecy,” Anastasia replied, almost whispering. “Her name is Clara.”
Betty stood stunned. Everything clicked—the blue eyes, the mysterious power, the day Clara entered her room and overpowered her magic. Clara wasn’t just special. She was the one.
“We must find her. Before she learns to use her powers,” Betty growled. And vanished.
---
Elsewhere, tension gripped a tiny home.
“Danielle, I seriously don’t think you should follow me,” Clara said firmly as Danielle shoved clothes into a bag.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” Eric asked, concern creasing his brows.
“I don’t,” Clara admitted. “But I’ll follow the map. That’s all I have.”
“As you said,” Danielle spoke up, “the world’s not safe anymore. I’d rather die fighting for it than wait to be swallowed. Please—let us go with you.”
“I can help with maps,” Eric added, his voice quiet but resolute.
Clara’s shoulders fell. “I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you two.”
“We guard each other,” Danielle whispered. “Let’s go. Before they get here.”
They slipped into the night, dashing toward the shadows of the creepy forest.
---
At that moment, Martin arrived at his house.
The front door creaked open.
His chest tightened. The air inside felt… wrong.
A child’s scream.
“Daddy! Help! Don’t touch my mommy!”
Martin sprinted inside. His heart pounded as he entered the living room—and froze.
Ugly creatures stood over his wife and daughter. Their eyes gleamed black—except for one. The leader. Her eyes burned red.
Anastasia.
“Martin,” she said calmly, “where is Clara?”
“I… I don’t know anyone named Clara,” he stammered. “Please. Just let my family go.”
Anastasia smiled darkly. “Oh, my bad. I meant Claudia.”
Martin blinked. It clicked.
“I don’t know anything! Please—”
“Shut up!” Anastasia snapped. “I hate liars.” She raised her clawed hand over his daughter’s neck.
Martin’s soul shattered.
“Okay! Fine! I know where she went. But if you hurt them… I swear I’ll take it to my grave.”
“Then speak.”
“She went east,” he lied. “That’s all I know.”
Anastasia narrowed her eyes. Her claws gleamed. Then—
A blinding light erupted.
Her hand burned.
“Don’t you dare,” a voice thundered.
Dallia stepped into view. Strong. Glowing. Furious.
“You…” Anastasia hissed.
“Yes, Anna. It’s me,” Dallia replied coolly. “You live like a rat in shadows. But I live for the prophecy.”
“You should be dead.”
“Dead things often return.” Dallia raised her hand. Anastasia winced. “You kept Clara from the queen all these years.”
“How did you find out?”
“Magic whispers,” Dallia smirked. “Tell Latesha this: the game has begun. I’ll make sure Clara never sees your face again.”
Martin stared, frozen.
“We’ll come back for you,” Anastasia warned, vanishing into the air.
Martin collapsed to the floor.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“Not your concern. But know this—you almost betrayed her. That was nearly fatal. She's the child of prophecy. A princess. Meant for the war that’s coming.”
“I… I don’t even know where she is. She left a letter.” He handed it over.
Dallia read it, lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s looking for the magic portal. Get your family out of here. Before nightfall. Anna will come again.”
And she vanished.
Martin didn't waste a second.
---
In another house, the air was still.
“Who’s there?” Betty’s mom called, frowning as she crept toward her daughter’s room.
No response.
“Sweetheart?” she called again, opening the door.
Darkness.
“Darling, come see this,” she called to her husband.
They flipped on the light—and screamed.
Wings. Black and green. Hair streaked with green. Fangs. And Betty’s face… twisted.
“I don’t have time to waste,” the creature hissed. “You kept a monster in your home for five years. Betty was taken and replaced. Only I and the queen knew. I’m not your daughter.”
Their knees buckled.
The girl before them shifted forms—into something both terrifying and stunning. Emerald eyes. Ebony lips. She was unnervingly beautiful.
“I am Princess Diana. From Neathermore. In Nirabeth.”
---
- Writer
