EIGHT: THE DREAM

It was night. You could hear the rhythmic droplets of water hitting the rooftop, mingled with the distant growl of thunder. Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the empty school corridors in brief, blinding flashes.

Pink ran.

Her bare feet slapped against the hallway tiles as she sprinted through Caveroop High, soaked from the storm, her breath ragged and shallow. She reached the clinic door, flung it open, and slammed it shut behind her, twisting the lock with trembling fingers.

She didn't look back.

She had only one goal.

Raymond's wand.

"Pink..." a voice crooned from beyond the door, distorted, deep, laced with hunger.

It was Jennie. Her voice echoed through the hallway like a song from a nightmare. Fingernails scraped slowly across the wall, dragging along the surface with a sickening screech.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

Pink staggered through the clinic, tearing open drawers, flinging aside curtains, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"Where is it?" she whispered, eyes darting around the room. "It has to be here."

Jennie's laughter rang out, echoing off the walls like a twisted lullaby. Then, silence.

No footsteps. No voice.

Pink froze. Her fear deepened. Where was she? Had she left?

A BANG rattled the door and Pink screamed unknowingly.

Jennie laughed on the other side, low and manic.

"I've got you now!" she shrieked, hammering the door with monstrous strength.

Pink collapsed to her knees, panic squeezing her chest. That's when her eyes caught something, an old bear rug bunched up in the corner of the room. Her instincts kicked in.

She scrambled over, yanked it aside, revealing a wooden cover beneath.

"Please..." she muttered, prying it open and there it was.

The wand.

She grabbed it just as the door shattered open with a crack like thunder. Jennie stood in the doorway transformed.

No longer entirely human, she was covered in wiry fur, her claws gleaming, red eyes glowing with a feral light. Her mouth twisted into a cruel grin, and her neck snapped side to side as her bones cracked grotesquely with each movement.

"There you are," she purred, stepping into the room with slow, deliberate strides. "Oh, how I've waited for this day."

Pink trembled, lifting the wand with shaking hands.

"Don't worry," Jennie cooed, her grin widening. "This will be fast and painless."

But she stopped. Her eyes locked on the wand.

"The wand..." she gasped.

Before Pink could react, Jennie lunged with unnatural speed and snatched it from her grip.

"Do you know how long I've searched for this?" Jennie hissed, lifting it high. A lightning flash lit her twisted face as she brought it down against her knee and snap.

The wand broke in two.

Jennie's laughter echoed through the empty school like a victory anthem.

She turned back to Pink, fangs bared.

"Now... where were we?"

She leapt, and her teeth sank into Pink's neck.

Pink screamed.

Clary woke panting. Gasping for breath, she sat upright in bed, drenched in sweat.

What was that? Another vision. But this one was worse, more real than the others.

Rain tapped against the window. The morning sun peeked through the blinds, casting long streaks of light across her bedroom.

Her parents were out of town. There was no one to tell.

She sat for a while, trying to shake the lingering horror, then got up to shower and prepare for school.

...

At school...

After the first period, I made my way to the clinic. I'd been feeling strange since the last encounter. Unsettled. Weak.

I knocked on the door and entered without waiting.

Inside, Raymond sat behind his desk, buried in folders. Clary sat opposite him.

They both turned to me, clearly startled.

"Am I interrupting something?" I asked, hesitating in the doorway.

"No, not really," Raymond replied calmly. "Ms. Broadway was just telling me about a dream she had last night."

He turned to me. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Not exactly. I've just been... off lately." I came on closing the door behind me.

"Alright, have a seat."

I sat on the edge of a sick bed while Raymond brought over a stethoscope and a digital monitor. The room was quiet except for the soft beeping and the distant sound of a student laughing down the hall.

Clary avoided my gaze, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

I cleared my throat.

"So… what was the dream about?"

Clary glanced at me briefly, her eyes meeting the curious glimmer in my brown ones then just as quickly, she looked away. Raymond turned to her, silently asking for permission with a questioning look. She hesitated, then gave a small nod.

And he summarized the dream she'd just shared.

In shock, I struggled to contain myself.

"Are you serious?"

Raymond gave a slow nod as he finished taking my vitals.

"I had the same dream," I whispered, stunned. watching both of them stare at me, equally surprised.

Clary stood, pale. Her eyes scanning Raymond for answers

"How is this possible?"

"I don't know," Raymond said grimly. "But two people having the same vision... it feels like a warning."

Then he stood up and moved toward the side where the bear rug laid. With a swift motion, he peeled it back revealing a wooden hatch.

Clary and I gasped in unison, our eyes locking in utter surprise.

"That's where it was," I breathed. "In the dream."

Raymond opened the hatch and pulled out a small stick hidden beneath, the wand. It was still intact.

"This wand must not be broken," he said, then muttered an incantation under his breath. The wand vanished, as if absorbed into air.

"Why?" Clary asked, stepping closer. Her blonde hair dangling around her shoulders.

"Because," Raymond said, lowering himself into his chair, "the wand is a symbol of magical order. Every spell I've cast using it is tied to the balance of this world. If it's broken... every spell will unravel. Chaos will follow."

"So why would Jennie want to destroy it?" I asked.

Raymond rubbed his temple.

"My guess? Nemus. I used the wand's magic to seal him out of Caveroop High. If the wand is broken... he returns."

"That explains... a few," Clary murmured, her face tight with dread.

My heart sank. I could feel it racing, "But it's just a theory... right?" I asked, not wanting to believe it.

Raymond glanced at me, the lines around his mouth tight with hesitation. He opened his lips to speak, closed them again. I could see the answer trying to form behind his troubled eyes.

Finally, he said, "We can't know for sure. Not yet."

That uncertainty chilled me more than a diagnosis ever could. For a few long seconds, none of us moved. Then Raymond reached over to the tray beside him and handed me a folded piece of paper, my health results. I took it with trembling fingers, afraid of what might be written between the lines.

"Come back if anything changes," he said, his tone flat but not unkind.

Clary and I turned toward the door, our footsteps quiet on the cold tile floor. Just before we stepped out, she stopped and gently touched my shoulder. Her hand was warm, grounding.

Her voice came out barely louder than a breath. "Don't tell Pink about this."

I turned to her, confused, the question already on my lips, Why? But the words never made it out. I didn't need to ask. The answer was already there, pulsing in my chest like a second heartbeat.

I gave a small, solemn nod.

We walked out of the clinic in silence.