Elara used to think missing people always made a loud exit — screaming, chaos, people searching with flashlights. But Maris disappeared quietly.
Her bed was made. Her books were still on the desk. No signs of struggle. Just... gone.
No one seemed that surprised.No announcements. No search.At Ravenhall, silence was the school's favorite way of handling problems.
But Elara noticed the little things.The way the witches in her class whispered more than usual, the way the vampires smirked when they passed her, like they knew something she didn't.And the way Professor Halwin avoided looking her in the eye.
That night, Elara sat by the window in their shared dorm room- now just her room. The cold wind came in through the cracks. Ravenhall didn't believe in warmth.
She held Maris's necklace in her hand. It was small and shaped like a moon. It had been left on the floor, as if dropped in a hurry. Elara clenched it tightly in her fist.
"Where did you go, Maris?" she barely whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She didn't expect an answer.But she got one anyway.
A knock at the window.
Her heart stopped. They were on the third floor.
Elara stood up slowly. She didn't want to look. But curiosity is stronger than fear. She peeked through the glass.
No one there.
But on the outside of the window, written in red- not blood, just red ink (she hoped) — were three words:
"You see it."
Her breath hitched.
Behind her, the door creaked open.
She spun around- it was just Cassian. Leaning casually against the doorframe like he hadn't just walked in during a horror scene.
"You always leave your window open?" he asked. "Bold choice."
"I didn't invite you in," she snapped.
"I don't need an invite to talk," he said, walking in. "Not that kind of vampire."
She rolled her eyes. "Then what do you want?"
He shrugged. "To help. Or to watch you fall apart. Not sure which one yet."
She glared at him. "Maris is missing. No one cares."
Cassian's smirk faded. "I know."
His tone was different now. Not cold. Just... tired.
"She saw something," he said. "Same as you. Same mark. Same whispers."
"So where is she now?" Elara whispered.
Cassian looked out the window. "Gone. Like the others."
Elara's knees felt weak. "There were others?"
He nodded. "Four, in the last year. Always witches. Always quiet."
Silence sat between them like a weight.
Then he looked at her again- really looked. "You're not ready for this."
"I don't care," she said.
Cassian tilted his head. "Then I guess you've chosen your side."
"What side?". But he was already walking out. "You'll see."
That Night...
Elara dreamt of blood dripping from bookshelves.Of Maris, standing in a red-lit hallway, whispering her name.Of a spiral burning into her chest.
And when she woke up, her pillow was wet.
Not with tears.
With ink - red ink!