The Thylacea common room was quiet, the usual hum of conversation subdued by the weight of the lockdown. Soya shifted uneasily in his seat, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his sketchbook. Davonte, lounging across from him, tossed a small rubber ball into the air and caught it repeatedly, the soft thud breaking the silence.
Soya glanced toward the door, hesitating before finally speaking. “I need to use the restroom.”
Davonte caught the ball mid-air and raised an eyebrow. “You know we’re not supposed to leave the common room.”
“I know,” Soya said, already feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “But I can’t exactly hold it all night.”
Davonte smirked, leaning forward. “Alright, but you’re not going alone. Spellchecker’s speech made it pretty clear wandering off isn’t a good idea. Let’s find a prefect.”
Before Soya could protest, Davonte was already on his feet, stretching dramatically as he made his way toward the prefect’s corner. Thalia Greaves, one of the older Thylacea students and their current prefect on duty, was seated by the fireplace, poring over a thick tome. She glanced up as they approached, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.
“Something you need?” she asked, her voice clipped but not unkind.
“Soya here needs the facilities,” Davonte said with a casual shrug. “And I figured we’d do things by the book, seeing as we’re such model students.”
Thalia sighed, closing her book with a soft thud. “Alright. Second-floor bathrooms are the closest. Just stick together and don’t wander off. I’ll escort you.”
Davonte grinned. “You’re the best, Thalia.”
“Save it,” she said, standing and grabbing her wand. “Let’s go.”
The three of them left the common room, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind them. The corridors were eerily silent, the usual clatter of footsteps and chatter absent. The torches lining the walls flickered softly, casting long shadows that danced across the stone.
“You’d think they’d at least tell us why we’re locked down,” Davonte muttered as they walked, his voice low but carrying in the stillness. “It’s not like we’re going to panic or anything.”
Thalia shot him a look. “It’s not our place to question the headmaster’s decisions. Our job is to follow instructions and stay safe.”
Davonte opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it, settling for a theatrical eye roll instead. Soya kept quiet, his nerves on edge as they made their way down the corridor.
When they reached the second floor, the faint sound of dripping water echoed through the air. The bathroom door loomed ahead, its carved wood polished to a faint sheen.
“Alright,” Thalia said, stopping just outside. “Make it quick.”
Soya nodded, hurrying inside while Davonte lingered in the doorway. The bathroom was dimly lit, the stone walls damp with condensation. As Soya made his way to the nearest stall, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the silence outside wasn’t natural—that something was watching, waiting just beyond their sight.
When he finished and stepped back into the corridor, Davonte was leaning casually against the wall, twirling his wand. “Took you long enough.”
“Let’s get back,” Soya said, his voice tight. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Thalia nodded in agreement, her expression unreadable as she led them back toward the common room. But as they walked, Soya couldn’t shake the unease settling in his chest, like the castle itself was holding its breath.
The corridor plunged into darkness so suddenly that it left Soya reeling. One moment, the warm glow of the torches lit the path ahead, and the next, their light was snuffed out, leaving nothing but an oppressive black void. Soya froze in place, his breath catching as he reached instinctively for the nearest wall.
“What just happened?” Davonte’s voice cut through the silence, low but tight with unease.
“I—I don’t know,” Soya stammered, his fingers brushing against cold stone. His eyes strained to adjust, but the darkness was absolute, swallowing even the faintest glimmer of light.
“Thalia?” Davonte called, his tone louder now, laced with an edge of panic. “You still there?”
No answer came. Only silence, vast and heavy.
A low, guttural noise echoed from somewhere deep within the walls, sending a shiver racing down Soya’s spine. It wasn’t the sound of footsteps or the creak of old wood—it was something else entirely, a vibration that seemed to hum through the air itself.
“Davonte,” Soya whispered, his voice trembling, “what’s happening?”
Before Davonte could reply, another sound joined the first: a faint whispering, so soft it was almost imperceptible. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once, filling the corridor with an eerie cadence. The words were unintelligible, their syllables jagged and sharp, like shards of glass scraping together.
“Do you hear that?” Soya asked, his pulse hammering in his ears.
“Yeah,” Davonte replied, his voice unnaturally quiet. “But I can’t understand it. It’s like... like it’s not meant for us.”
The whispers grew louder, overlapping in a chaotic symphony that seemed to close in around them. Soya reached out blindly, his fingers brushing against fabric—Davonte’s sleeve. He gripped it tightly, the small connection grounding him against the rising tide of fear.
“We need to move,” Davonte said, his tone urgent. “Find Thalia or anyone who can tell us what’s going on.”
Soya nodded, though he doubted Davonte could see him. Together, they began to edge forward, their movements slow and cautious. The darkness felt alive, pressing in on them from all sides. Every step seemed to echo louder than the last, the sound bouncing back unnaturally from the unseen walls.
And then, a faint scuttling noise broke through the whispers. It was distant at first, almost indistinguishable from the other strange sounds. But it grew steadily louder, closer, until it seemed to come from right behind them.
“Run,” Davonte hissed, his voice barely audible over the cacophony.
Soya didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted forward, his feet pounding against the stone floor. He could hear Davonte running beside him, his breathing ragged and quick. The corridor felt endless, the darkness unyielding, as if the walls themselves were shifting to trap them.
“Left!” Davonte shouted suddenly, grabbing Soya’s arm and yanking him to the side. They skidded into another hallway, but the whispers followed, their dissonant tones swelling into a feverish crescendo.
A sharp, metallic clang echoed somewhere ahead, like a door slamming shut. Soya stumbled, nearly losing his footing, but Davonte caught him, steadying him just long enough for them to keep moving.
The scuttling noise was louder now, accompanied by a low growl that vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. It wasn’t human—couldn’t be—and the realization made Soya’s chest tighten with panic.
“Davonte,” Soya gasped, his voice shaking, “what if we can’t—”Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Don’t think like that,” Davonte interrupted, his grip on Soya’s arm firm. “We’re getting out of this. Just keep moving.”
The whispers began to thin, their chaotic chorus receding into the distance. But the darkness remained, impenetrable and suffocating. Soya’s lungs burned, his legs aching with every step, but he forced himself to push forward. He couldn’t stop—not now.
Finally, they rounded another corner and collided with something solid. Soya stumbled back, his heart leaping into his throat.
“Who’s there?” Davonte demanded, raising his wand instinctively.
A flicker of light sparked in the darkness—a faint, golden glow that illuminated a figure slumped against the wall. It was Thalia. Her face was pale, her breaths shallow, and her wand lay forgotten at her side.
“Thalia!” Soya exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside her. “Are you alright? What happened?”
Her eyes fluttered open, but her gaze was unfocused. “The... whispers,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “They... they weren’t...”
“Weren’t what?” Davonte pressed, his expression taut with worry. “What did you see?”
But before Thalia could answer, the faint glow of her wand extinguished, plunging them back into darkness. And with it came the whispers again, louder and more menacing than before.
The whispers cut off suddenly, leaving the corridor in an eerie, oppressive silence. Soya froze, his heart hammering in his chest as his eyes strained against the darkness. Even without the whispers, the air felt charged, like a storm about to break. Davonte knelt beside Thalia, trying to rouse her fully, but Soya couldn’t focus on anything but the unnatural quiet.
And then, faintly at first, came the sound.
A scraping noise, like claws dragging across stone, echoed from the end of the hallway. It was deliberate, unhurried, each scratch sending a shiver down Soya’s spine. He turned his head toward the source, his breath catching as he gripped his wand tighter.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered, barely audible.
Davonte looked up, his face pale. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “And I don’t think we want to meet whatever’s making it.”
The scraping grew louder, accompanied by a deep, guttural sound—half growl, half hiss—that reverberated through the corridor. The creature was close. Too close.
Soya’s stomach twisted as a massive shadow began to stretch across the floor, cast by some unseen light. It moved unnaturally, the edges of its form twisting and writhing like smoke. And then, slowly, it came into view.
The creature emerged from around the corner, its movements deliberate and predatory. It was massive, easily towering over the tallest professor at Austramore. Its body was lean and sinewy, covered in coarse, jet-black fur that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dark. Its limbs were unnaturally long, with powerful shoulders that rippled as it moved. Each of its feet ended in enormous, curved claws that scraped against the stone with every step.
But it was the creature’s head that sent a wave of icy fear through Soya’s veins. Its face was elongated, like that of a distorted canine, but its jaws were unnervingly wide, lined with rows of jagged, translucent teeth that glowed faintly like moonlight on water. Its eyes were even worse—large and lidless, a vivid, sickly yellow that seemed to pierce straight through the soul.
Two jagged, spiraling horns protruded from its head, twisting back like those of a ram, but their surfaces were covered in faintly glowing runes. The markings pulsed rhythmically, as if the creature itself were alive with some ancient, dark magic.
“What... is that?” Davonte whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own breathing.
Soya couldn’t speak. His entire body was frozen, every instinct screaming at him to run, but his legs refused to obey. The creature turned its head toward them, its glowing eyes narrowing as it inhaled deeply, its nostrils flaring. It had caught their scent.
The low growl turned into a deep, guttural rumble that seemed to vibrate through the stone floor. The creature’s maw stretched into a grotesque approximation of a grin, its jagged teeth glinting faintly.
“It knows we’re here,” Davonte said, his voice shaking. “We need to move. Now.”
Before either of them could react, the creature took a step forward, its massive claws gouging deep into the stone. The movement was slow and deliberate, as if it were savoring the fear radiating from its prey.
“Get up!” Davonte hissed, grabbing Soya’s arm and pulling him to his feet. “We have to go!”
Thalia stirred weakly, her voice a faint whisper. “Run... just run...”
The creature let out a piercing, otherworldly screech that echoed through the corridor, freezing Soya’s blood. It crouched low, its muscles coiling like a spring, and then it leapt forward with terrifying speed.
“Run!” Davonte shouted, his voice cutting through the haze of fear.
Soya’s legs finally obeyed, and he bolted down the corridor, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. Davonte was beside him, half-dragging Thalia as they fled, the sound of the creature’s claws scraping against the stone ringing in their ears.
The corridor seemed endless, each shadow twisting and shifting as the creature closed the distance behind them. Its guttural growls echoed like a predator toying with its prey, and Soya dared not look back.
“What do we do?” Soya shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
“Keep running!” Davonte yelled. “We’ll figure it out—just don’t stop!”
But the creature wasn’t giving them a choice. Its massive form was gaining on them, the vibrations of its steps shaking the ground. Soya’s mind raced, desperation clawing at him as he realized they couldn’t outrun it forever.
He clutched his wand tighter, his breath ragged. “Davonte... it’s going to catch us!”
Davonte’s eyes darted around, searching for anything—any escape, any plan. “There!” he shouted, pointing to a small archway up ahead, partially concealed by a tapestry. “Through there!”
Soya didn’t hesitate. He veered toward the archway, the tapestry brushing against his shoulder as he dove through. Davonte followed, pulling Thalia behind him just as the creature’s claws scraped against the stone where they had stood a moment earlier.
Inside the small, hidden alcove, the three of them pressed against the wall, their breaths loud in the deafening silence. The creature’s growls echoed just outside, its claws scratching ominously against the floor.
Soya’s heart thundered in his chest, his wand trembling in his hand. “It’s... it’s hunting us.”
Davonte nodded grimly, his silver eyes glinting with a mix of fear and determination. “Yeah,” he whispered. “And it’s not going to stop until it catches us.”
The eerie silence that followed the creature’s pursuit was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps and sharp voices echoing through the corridor. Soya pressed himself further into the alcove, his breath hitching as the distant growls of the creature mingled with the unmistakable sound of human movement.
“Over here!” a voice barked, strong and commanding. It was Professor Marilla.
A burst of light illuminated the corridor, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. The monstrous creature let out a guttural roar, its clawed feet scraping furiously against the stone as it turned its attention toward the new arrivals. Soya risked a glance out from behind the tapestry, his heart leaping at the sight of Professor Marilla, her wand raised high, a shimmering barrier of blue light forming in front of her.
“Students!” she called, her voice steady despite the chaos. “Stay where you are!”
Behind her, Seikan Blackthorn strode forward, his dark robes billowing as he moved. His sharp emerald eyes locked onto the creature, immediately narrowing in on the glowing runes etched into its horns. He paused, his hands flicking in the air as he began tracing intricate runes that glowed faintly in response.
Professor Wickham appeared next, her usual composed demeanor cracking slightly as she took in the hulking creature before them. “What in Merlin’s name is that thing?” she murmured, her wand pointed steadily at the beast.
“Something ancient and deeply dangerous,” Seikan replied tersely, his focus never wavering. “And those runes—it’s been bound or controlled by something. But they’re not acting as they should. It’s... breaking free.”
Marilla raised an eyebrow but didn’t take her eyes off the creature. “Bound or not, it’s trying to kill us and these students. Suggestions?”
“Magic barely works on it,” Seikan said, his voice grim. “That barrier of yours is holding, but I doubt it will for long. Whatever those runes are, they’re shielding it from most magical attacks.”
The creature snarled, slamming itself against Marilla’s barrier. The shimmering blue light rippled but held firm, though the force of the impact caused cracks to spiderweb across the stone floor.
“Then we hold it back long enough to get the students out of here,” Wickham said, stepping forward and reinforcing the barrier with a flick of her wand.
Seikan’s hands moved rapidly as he sketched more glowing runes in the air, muttering incantations under his breath. The symbols shot forward, attaching themselves to the creature’s horns and body. For a brief moment, the runes flared bright, and the creature let out a deafening roar, stumbling backward. But the glow faded just as quickly, the runes crumbling into nothingness.
“Damn,” Seikan hissed, his frustration evident. “It’s too resistant. Those runes are acting like a magical dampener—they’re negating anything we throw at it.”
The creature recovered quickly, its glowing eyes narrowing as it stalked forward again. The professors braced themselves, but Marilla turned her head slightly toward the alcove where Soya, Davonte, and Thalia were hiding.
“Students, listen carefully!” she called, her voice calm but firm. “You need to move now. Follow the corridor back the way you came and head straight to your common room. Do not stop for anything.”
Soya hesitated, his heart pounding as he stared at the professors standing between them and the monstrous creature. “But—”
“Go!” Marilla snapped, her voice leaving no room for argument. “We’ll handle this.”
Davonte grabbed Soya’s arm, his usual confidence replaced by urgency. “Come on, mate. Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, Soya nodded, pulling Thalia to her feet as they slipped out from behind the tapestry. The corridor ahead of them was dark and silent, the faint glow of the professors’ magic casting eerie shadows that seemed to stretch and twist as they moved.
Behind them, the creature lunged at the barrier again, its claws raking against the magical shield with a horrifying screech. Wickham reinforced the barrier with another flick of her wand, while Marilla raised her own, sending a burst of golden light toward the creature’s legs. The spell struck true, causing the beast to stagger, but it shook off the attack almost immediately.
“We can’t hold this thing forever,” Wickham said through gritted teeth. “Blackthorn, any ideas?”
Seikan’s hands moved in a blur as he sketched another series of runes, this time directing them toward the ceiling above the creature. “If we can’t stop it, we’ll bury it,” he said, his tone sharp. The runes glowed brightly, and the stones above the creature began to tremble.
The creature roared, sensing the shift, and slammed into the barrier with renewed ferocity. The professors held their ground, their combined magic straining against the relentless assault.
Soya glanced back just in time to see the ceiling above the creature collapse in a controlled explosion of stone and dust. The beast let out a furious screech as it was buried beneath the rubble, the sound reverberating through the corridor.
“Keep moving!” Davonte urged, pulling Soya forward as the professors turned their attention to reinforcing the new barricade of rubble. The distant growls of the creature were muffled but still audible, a chilling reminder that it wasn’t gone—just delayed.
By the time they reached the entrance to the Thylacea common room, Soya’s legs felt like jelly, and his breath came in ragged gasps. The prefects stationed outside hurried them inside, their expressions tight with worry.
Once inside, the comforting warmth of the common room felt almost surreal. Students huddled together, their voices low and filled with fear. Soya sank into a chair near the fire, his hands trembling as he clutched his sketchbook.
Davonte dropped into the seat beside him, his usual humor nowhere to be found. “That... was not what I signed up for.”
Soya nodded numbly, his mind replaying the encounter over and over. The creature’s glowing eyes, its claws, the runes etched into its horns—it was like something out of a nightmare.