Ryan shook off the disorienting haze, fumbling for his phone amid the forest's oppressive quiet. His fingers steadied as he dialed me, his pulse quickening with raw concern. It rang once, twice—then my voice came through, fragile yet steady.
"Scarlet, thank God. Where are you? Are you hurt? Talk to me—I'm losing my mind here," he said, his voice thick with genuine care, every word laced with the fear of losing the one he truly loved.
I hesitated, my breath hitching. "I'm okay... I'm taking care of Marie right now. Just minor injuries."
Relief washed over him, and he said gently, "Stay there. I'm coming right now. You don't have to go through this alone—I've got you."
The call extended with whispered vows, his words a lifeline weaving through my fears, reassuring me until we hung up, hearts entwined in defiant hope.
The next day, Professor Eleanor Vance entered the class with a gloomy expression. She wiped away her tears, adjusted her glasses, and finally spoke. "Class, settle down. I know... I know how difficult this is. We are all deeply saddened by the tragic, untimely passing of Mark and Peter. We will mourn their loss, but we must also continue."
She paused, her voice steadying as she shifted from grief to the day's lecture. "In times like these, we turn to the unknown for solace—or answers. Consider the gates of legend: thresholds woven into our world's geography, hidden in fog-shrouded valleys or jagged mountain passes where ley lines converge."
She adjusted her glasses, drawing the class in. "These aren't mere portals of fancy; ancient texts describe them as rifts tied to earth's veins—rivers pulsing with otherworldly energy, opening only under specific alignments, like solstice moons over sacred groves. Picture a gate in the restless forest beyond town: restless whispers marking its edge, geography itself a guardian against chaos. Yet it beckons, promising escape..."
As the lecture continued, I gripped the edge of the desk, my voice a strained, breathless whisper as I recounted the vision, as if the images were still flickering behind my eyelids.
Just a low, distant thrumming, like a colossal, invisible heart beating deep beneath the earth—and then it seized me. That premonition. It wasn't a whisper this time; it was an explosion—a world of mist and shadow, instantly... real.
Then I saw the creature—not a man, but a brute, a mountain of muscle and matted, shadow-soaked fur. Those eyes—absolute fury, burning amber coals fixed on the hunt. It thundered through the fog-drenched woods, its claws tearing the earth like spades. And its prey... David's cousin, Edwin, and his younger sister, Lila.
Edwin was terrified, but he fought back—broad-shouldered and desperate, yanking Lila behind a crumbling old oak. Poor Lila... her eyes wide, twin mirrors of his sheer terror as she tried to choke back a scream so sharp it would shatter the air.The beast lunged. I could hear the snap of those jaws, feel the scorching blast of its hot breath missing Edwin's throat by inches. It was going to end right there.
But then the air ruptured—not with sound, but with a surge of unknown power radiating from the shadows, like liquid starlight spilling from the underbrush in piercing violet. It didn't just appear; it coalesced into shimmering, crackling tendrils of pure amethyst light. They were alive!
They lashed out with impossible speed, coiling around the creature's limbs and binding it. I saw the fur searing where the light touched, the beast throwing its head back in a guttural, wounded howl. That energy hurled the beast back, smashing it deep into the trees. It wasn't just light; it was ancient, potent. The very roots of the oak seemed to twist and rise, ensnaring the beast further, holding it in an agonizing, living trap.
Edwin didn't hesitate. He scooped Lila up, and they vanished—unscathed, saved by a force that wasn't human, wasn't vampire, wasn't even werewolf. "What... What was that power?"
I gasped, clutching my chest as the classroom spun back into focus around Professor Eleanor's droning voice.
"I need to know," I murmured. "I need to find out what kind of power can stop the creature from further rampaging... and why it's showing itself to me." The bell rang, and I headed out for lunch.
Unbeknownst to the class, a boy jolted in his seat, the alpha werewolf within him recoiling as the premonition rippled outward like an invisible shockwave—unseen by others but slamming into him with visceral force.