Police Station
Valen and Alex sat on a pair of hard metal chairs in the middle of the main station, across a dented desk that looked like it had survived decades of frustrated fists and spilled coffee. Their wrists were free now, though faint red marks still circled their skin from the handcuffs.
The place was kind of chaotic, phones rang, typewriters clattered, and officers drifted past carrying files, muttering about paperwork.
A weary officer sat across from them with a notepad, trying to tune out the chaos around him. His questions were generic, rattled off in a tone more tired than authoritative.
"Name? Age? Background?"
Every time, the answers came back the same.
"No comments."
The officer's jaw twitched, his pen digging grooves into the paper.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. His patience was thinning.
Kids their age were supposed to tremble when dragged into a station, especially those still in school! But these two? Calm and fucking smirking, trading half-whispered jokes between themselves. It was infuriating. "Laughing? What are you, comedians?"
Meanwhile, behind a closed door, Sheriff Galpin was pacing like a caged animal. His voice rose, sharp as a whip, as he scolded his son.
"You shouldn't have picked a fight, Tyler. You hear me? You shouldn't have."
Tyler stared at the floor, fists clenched tight enough that his knuckles whitened.
From the accounts of several witnesses, it was clear who had thrown the first punch and how Tyler had escalated it.
Galpin's frustration was thick in the air, his voice cracking with both anger and weariness. Tyler barely looked at him, jaw set, resentment simmering. His father's words weren't reaching him... maybe they never had.
In the other room, the interrogating officer tapped his pen against the desk, fighting the urge to snap it in half.
Alex leaned back in his chair with a half-grin meanwhile, Valen said nothing, ignoring everything.
The officer's jaw tightened. They were really making his job impossible.
Just then, the front doors opened, letting in a swirl of air and the sharp clicking of heels. Principal Weems swept into the station in a hurry with the mayor at her side.
From his cabin, Sheriff Galpin spotted them immediately. He gave Tyler one last, seething warning before stepping out to meet them, leaving his son to stew in silence. Tyler's nails bit into his palms. His father had never truly cared for him, not the way he wanted him to.
Principal Weems didn't waste time. She strode straight to Valen and Alex, her sharp eyes scanning their arms and faces for bruises. Finding none, she let out a tight breath and muttered, "Let's go."
The boys stood without protest, but Donovan stepped forward to block them.
"And where do you think you're taking them?"
"They're not being arrested for a playground scuffle," Weems shot back, her voice cool and sharp.
"And if you're planning to press further, the video evidence is clear, your mayor's son was the one who raised his fists first. These two just defended themselves."
Her words and her expressions left no room for argument.
The mayor, clearly reluctant but aware of his position, sighed and nodded. Under his pressure, Donovan had no choice but to release them with nothing more than a warning.
*
As Weems ushered Valen and Alex into her car, her face carved into a scowl.
The silence inside the van was thick and almost suffocating.
"It only took you two months," she began, voice calm but sharp with disappointment, "just two damn months, to find yourselves in trouble."
Neither boy spoke. They knew when to keep their mouths shut.
"To think you managed to pick a fight with both the sheriff's and the mayor's sons," she went on. "I don't know whether to call that bad luck… or idiocy. The fight wasn't your fault, but still... You're better than this. You should have ended it swiftly, cleanly, without a scene... Sigh, Good thing your friends called me immediately."
Her eyes narrowed, glancing at them through the rear-view mirror. Otherwise, this might have been twisted into a scandal, branding the school hostile to 'normies' despite everything I've done to keep things seamless between us.
She huffed, tapping the steering wheel impatiently. "For now, I'll leave you both with a warning. Next time, I won't be so lenient. Understood?"
"YES, MA'AM!" they roared.
Weems scoffed, lips twitching with the faintest shadow of a smile before she masked it again.
*
Back at the station, the mayor and Sheriff Galpin sat in Galpin's cramped office. An attendant set down a tray of coffee and donuts, then slipped out, leaving the two men in tense silence.
"That could've taken a bad turn," the mayor admitted finally, stirring his coffee though he never took a sip.
"You know what my instincts tell me?" Galpin muttered, voice low and gravelly. "Those boys are bad news."
"Even if they are," the mayor replied, "our hands are tied. They are under the school's protection and unless they commit a crime, and to which we have proof, we can't touch them."
Galpin clenched his mug so tightly that the ceramic creaked. He hated it. Hated the lack of control, hated the smug way those boys looked back at him, hated how everything seemed to be slipping.
And the coffee stayed untouched.
*
When the van rolled to a stop near the dorm blocks, the evening air felt heavier than usual, as though it too had been carrying secrets.
Valen had barely stepped out when he was nearly knocked off his feet by Enid. She slammed into him with a desperate hug, her face buried in his chest and her eyes were red and swollen, streaked from crying.
Valen blinked down at her. He knew about her insecurities and the way she's always blaming herself whenever things go wrong around her and today seemed to be no different.
Her small shoulders shook against him, sobs muffled into his shirt. For once, Valen's expression softened. He offered her a calm, quiet smile and wrapped his arms around her, steady as stone.
Alex didn't linger. He slipped past them with an awkward half-smirk and made his way toward the others who had gathered nearby, hovering like they weren't sure whether to approach.
"Hey, guys," Alex greeted, throwing himself into their circle.
Almost immediately, questions flew at him from all directions- what happened, were they okay, did they really fuck up the sheriff's kid? what happened at the police station?... Alex answered them one by one, weaving in sarcasm and humor that made the tension crack just a little.
*
Later that night, in their shared dorm room, the atmosphere was quieter.
Valen sat cross-legged on the bed, guitar resting against his knee. His fingers moved slowly across the strings, coaxing out a low, calming tune. The melody drifted through the room strangely soothing.
Alex leaned back in his chair, eyes half-closed, letting the music wash over him. After a long pause, he asked, "You still having those dreams?"
The question made Valen stop mid-note. He looked up, his expression unreadable, and then gave a small nod.
"Yeah."
Alex shuddered as though he could feel the shadows creeping over his skin again. "Creepy as hell. Gives me chills just thinking about it."
Valen sighed. "I can never remember the details. Just… the feeling. I asked Father about it, you know. He said maybe it's the gaze of some being, but told me we're trained enough to handle it ourselves and not to bother them."
"Figures. The Circle's probably swamped right now anyway."
Valen nodded, his eyes distant, thoughts turning inward.
Since the night they found that body in the woods, these dreams had started haunting both of them, relentless and cold. Each morning, the details slipped away and he was certain it was connected, the corpse, the dreams.
And with the day of the vigil drawing closer, he knew Something was coming... He could feel it.
Silas Sane, huh… he thought, fingers brushing against the guitar strings absently. Then, suddenly, he set the instrument aside and stood up.
Alex tilted his head, raising a brow. "What's up?"
"Let's go," Valen said simply.
Alex didn't hesitate. He stood, following as Valen swung out onto the balcony and dropped lightly to the ground below.
"Where are we going?" Alex asked, jogging to keep pace.
"To the library. The Nightshade Society's library."
Alex's curiosity sparked. "What's that?"
And then they reached the main building.
The courtyard was silent at this hour. The moonlight spilled across the statue, throwing long shadows over the cobblestones. Ivy climbed the walls around them, twisting like dark veins. The air was still, carrying only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.
In the hallway Valen stopped in front of the statue of Edgar Allan Poe. (Image here)
He stared up at Poe's stony face, recalling the scene half-remembered from the series.
"I think it was something like this," he muttered and clapped twice.
Nothing happened. It wasn't like this? Fuck...
Behind him, Alex crossed his arms, brow furrowed, watching Valen shift uncomfortably. "You good bro?"
But Valen embarrassed ignored him, clearing his throat with a theatrical little ahem, then tried again, snapping his fingers twice.
SNAP. SNAP.
Then with a grinding noise, stone shifted. The statue began to move, slowly, as if awakened from a centuries-old slumber, sliding aside to reveal a narrow stairwell that spiraled down into shadow, carrying with it the smell of dust and damp stone.
Alex's eyes widened. "Damn."
"Yeah," Valen said quickly, pretending it had been his plan all along. "It's just… a kind of key."
Alex smirked, unconvinced. Sure it is.
Valen ignored him and stepped forward as the statue revealed the hidden passage below.
"Let's go then."
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Milestones this week: Every 400 powerstones = +1 bonus chapter!Current progression → (0/400)
So drop those stones if you want those extra chapters!
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A/N: I saw the whole David case… honestly, it was disgusting and disturbing. And to think those songs were made due to his pedophilia... Goddamn. What's with these diddy-ass popular people being obsessed with minors? Like seriously, why??