CHAPTER 19
1110 Words
Annabeth/Annika’s POV
After the royalties disappeared from our sight, Natasha suddenly suggested we go to her dorm. She said she wanted to ask me something. I agreed—after all, I had questions of my own.
As we walked, I couldn’t shake off what I felt earlier.
When Natasha cried… something inside me responded. A feeling I had buried for over a decade clawed its way back to the surface. It irritated me—no, it infuriated me. I wanted to explode just to silence it.
I can’t let this happen.
I have no plans of making friends—especially not with her. I already decided: once my goal is done, Natasha dies with it. So I cannot, under any circumstances, grow attached.
“Annika? Are you okay?”
Her voice pulled me back. I looked at her, and she instinctively took a small step back when she saw the coldness in my eyes.
Good. Be afraid. Remember that we are not friends.
“You’re spacing out… what are you thinking about?” she asked carefully.
I raised a brow. “Nothing. It’s none of your business.”
I saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes, but I ignored it. I don’t need emotions—I need information. That’s all.
We stopped in front of a crimson-colored building.
“This is the Ruby building,” she said. “It’s for students with bloodlines.”
I almost asked what she meant—but stopped myself. I don’t care about whatever lineage she’s talking about.
We stepped inside. The hallway was quiet, wrapped in a gothic aesthetic—crimson, black, and violet dominating every corner.
“There aren’t many people around. They’re either in their rooms… or outside… maybe even in the forest,” she added.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t want her to know I was actually listening.
Tch. I need to get this over with.
I was about to question her when we stopped in front of a red door with a name engraved on it.
Hybee.
“We’re here!” she said with a smile before entering.
I followed, scanning the room—and frowned.
It was… clean.
Too clean.
This isn’t fair. Why is our building rusted and filthy while this one looks like this? Ugh. Right… ours is filled with useless students.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll just grab something downstairs, okay?” she said before leaving.
I stared blankly at the door after she exited.
She dragged me here… only to leave me alone?
Tch. I should strangle her.
With nothing else to do, I began exploring her dorm—her room included. Permission? Please. I don’t need it.
As I moved around, something caught my attention.
Strange objects.
Thick books lined her shelves. Glass cabinets displayed bottles filled with… things. I approached one and narrowed my eyes.
Black smoke swirled inside it.
And strands of hair.
What the hell is this?
I turned to the bookshelf and grabbed a book.
“The Origin of Witches…”
…what?
I pulled more books.
“The Haravock’s Missing Heir…”
“The Enchantress…”
“The Enchanted Spells of Witch…”
My grip tightened.
She’s a witch.
A witch who uses spells.
The hell—did she use something on me?
“Annika? What are you doing in my room?”
Before she could react again, I was already in front of her.
Her eyes widened in shock.
I stared at her—cold, sharp, dangerous. I stepped forward.
She stepped back.
“You’re a witch.”
“I—I am… why?” she asked, confused.
“You never told me.”
Step.
She retreated.
“I was about to. Why? Is that a big deal?”
I didn’t answer. Not immediately.
Being a witch isn’t the problem.
But the possibility that she manipulated me?
That is.
Why did I feel comfortable around her so quickly? One week. Just one week—and suddenly, I’m acting like I want a friend?
That’s not me.
“Tell me, Tasha…”
“W-what is it?”
“…did you put a spell on me?” My voice snapped. “Did you enchant me just so I’d be your friend?!”
She flinched.
“N-No! Why would I do that—”
“Liar!” I cut her off sharply. “Then what is this feeling?! Why do I suddenly want to be close to you?! That’s not who I am!”
She collapsed to the floor, crying.
“I didn’t! I don’t even know how to chant spells! Why would I do that to you?! What you feel… that’s yours, Annika!”
…I don’t believe you.
I crouched in front of her, studying her face.
She was crying hard—eyes red, trembling.
Without thinking, I placed my hand on her head… and gently stroked it.
She froze… then looked at me, broken.
“Believe me, Annika… I didn’t do anything…”
I nodded slowly… then stood.
Shit.
Why do I feel guilty?
I’ve never felt guilt before.
I need to kill her.
Now.
Even if I don’t want to.
“Annika, I rea—”
“I know. So be quiet.”
She exhaled in relief, wiping her tears before sitting on the bed.
“I’m a witch…” she said.
“I know—”
“And a vampire too.”
I frowned.
A vampire?
That’s real too?
“I’m a witch who can see people’s past,” she continued. “And as a vampire, I have speed… and I can see in the dark.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You can see someone’s past?”
She nodded.
“…that’s how I know what you did earlier.”
For a moment, I froze.
Then I smiled.
A slow, dangerous grin.
I summoned a silver sword and pointed it straight at her throat.
She staggered back, fear flooding her face.
“Y-you’re going to kill me?” she whispered.
I laughed.
Loud. Unhinged. Almost mocking.
“Of course. I should’ve done it earlier, but I needed information.” I tilted my head. “Now that you know… you’re useless.”
Her face crumbled.
“But we’re friends, Annika! You can’t just kill me!”
“We are not friends!” I snapped. “Stop crying! Can’t you understand? I used you. That’s it. And now… I’ll enjoy killing you.”
I raised my sword—
“I can help you!”
I stopped.
“I can help you avenge Annika… Annabeth.”
Silence.
The blade hovered mid-air.
Slowly… I lowered it.
My eyes darkened as I stared at her.
“…what did you say?”
- Writer
