EIGHTEEN: A RARE MAGIC.

We all froze in our seats, eyes wide and breaths shallow, as though the walls themselves were whispering secrets too dark to repeat. It felt like we were characters in a thriller, waiting for the next shocking reveal. The silence stretched until it became unbearable.

Eska leaned forward, her brows knitting tightly. "Donald Pathaway?" she asked, her voice slicing through the stillness like a blade.

Raymond's expression darkened as he nodded slowly. "Yeah. An old but powerful magician. The kind you don't cross. He knows everything about magic, light, dark, and everything in between." His tone carried a weight that made the hairs on my arms rise.

Rejoice's voice came next, laced with disbelief and a hint of fear. "But what kind of magic could he have used to bring back Charles?" She looked between us, searching for an answer that wouldn't make her stomach twist.

Raymond exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with dread. "Necromancy," he said finally. "A spell for raising or speaking to the dead. It was common in ancient times, but people abused it so badly that it was banned. Forbidden for centuries. We believed it was gone… erased from every grimoire."

Eska shifted uncomfortably in her chair, while Pink crossed her arms, her voice tight with suspicion. "So… you're saying you think he had a hand in this?"

Raymond's jaw clenched as he met her gaze. "I'm afraid so."

The words lingered like a curse. No one spoke after that; we just sat there, drowning in the gravity of what it meant. Donald Pathaway. Necromancy. Charles walking among the living again.

When we finally rose to leave the office, the air outside felt heavier, as if the conversation had awakened something dark that was now following us.

In class, we were having math, and I found it very hard to pay attention. The class was kind of dull; most of my classmates were busy with their phones, some were asleep, others just stared coldly and emptily at the teacher.

Zack was asleep beside me, Sam and Genora were at the front, seriously taking notes. I was feeling a bit dizzy but forced myself to stay awake.

This was impossible, as the battle to stay awake was intense. This went on for several minutes until I found the perfect distraction: drawing.

While I was suddenly engrossed in what I was doing, everything around me suddenly became so quiet. I looked up curiously and saw that everything was moving in slow motion, very slow, except for me.

What in the world?!

I immediately stopped what I was doing, surprised to see everything like this. The atmosphere was still, and I began to hear whispering noises.

What's going on?

I stood up and walked from my seat to the front of the class. Our math teacher was speaking very slowly. Even when blinking, his eyes would close slowly. I wanted to touch him, but before I could, I heard a soft knock on the door.

I looked up slowly, and outside stood the same woman I had seen in the woods. Her face was visible through the small opening in the door.

I gasped. What is she doing here? I glanced at her, she smiled, her golden eyes sparkling and even though she had dark skin, she looked so pale.

My attention was drawn to her, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. From inside, I caught a glimpse of what she was wearing.

She wore a shredded black gown, which happened to be wet from the water dripping off her hair and face.

I took one step forward with the intention of confronting her for following me all the way from the woods, but as I reached for the door, she turned to leave. Before I could open it, everything returned to normal, and the bell rang for school dismissal.

I darted out of the room, snatching my bag as if speed alone could close the gap between us. My footsteps echoed down the hallway, breath ragged, but she was gone. No trace. Just empty corridors and the faint hum of chatter in the distance.

Frustration twisted in my chest. Where could she have gone so quickly? I scanned every hallway, every doorway, but nothing. Finally, I gave up and made my way toward the locker room, my mind still racing.

That's when I saw him, Charles.

He stood surrounded by a small cluster of students, their faces lit with curiosity and awe. Of course they were curious. A guy vanishes, then suddenly reappears at school like nothing happened, who wouldn't want answers? He was talking animatedly, hands gesturing, like he was reliving some heroic tale. Probably the same story he told us earlier.

I almost walked past, but something tugged at me. Would he know where Annie is?

The thought froze me mid-step. If anyone could know, it would be him.

Before I could overthink it, I turned back and approached the group. Their chatter faltered when I spoke.

"Hey, Charles, can I have a minute?"

He blinked, then smiled. "Sure."

He murmured a quick excuse to his little audience and stepped aside with me, his tone casual, almost friendly.

"Hey, Terra, what's up?"

I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice even. "I'm doing fine. Uh… the reason I called you out is that, I just wanted to ask if you knew the whereabouts of Annie."

The name hung in the air like smoke. His expression shifted immediately, confusion knitting his brows. For a moment, I thought he was joking.

"Annie?" he repeated slowly, like the word was foreign to him. "Who's Annie?"

My stomach dropped. I stared at him, searching his face for some sign of recognition. He has to be kidding.

"Annie Brodway," I said carefully, my voice barely above a whisper. "Your girlfriend."

And then… he laughed.

Not a nervous laugh. Not a chuckle of surprise. A real laugh, like I'd told the funniest joke he'd heard all day.

"I'm sorry," he said between laughs, shaking his head, "but I don't know anyone named Annie Brodway. Whatever… I don't even have a girlfriend."

The world tilted for a second. My pulse hammered in my ears. Was he lying? Or… did he really not remember her?

Man, it was as if I were talking to a stranger. He seemed different, sounded different, and acted different. The Charles we all knew was crazy about Annie, but this one...

Is he pretending, or does he want to start over again? Or maybe he's tired of her and sees this as his ticket out?

Still, something about him seems off, and I'm starting to think Raymond was right. If this is somehow connected to my vision, then magic is involved.

"Erm... Sorry, it must have been a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, sure," he said and went back to the crowd.

I stared at him for a while before moving on. Before entering the locker room, I turned back and saw him staring at me in a strange manner, as if he were suspicious of me.

I slipped through the doorway, heart pounding, still unsettled by the way Charles had been staring at me earlier. His eyes… there was something wrong about them. It seemed scary and off. A chill crawled up my spine as I quickened my pace toward my locker, desperately trying to shake the unease.

Then bam! I bumped into someone.

"Ouch! Girl, why the rush?"

The impact jolted me out of my thoughts. I blinked, realizing I'd slammed straight into Pink. She was rubbing her chin, wincing.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I blurted, stepping back.

She gave me a playful scowl but smiled faintly. "Seriously, Terra. Are you trying to break disfigure my face?"

I forced a laugh, though my mind was still tangled with dark thoughts. Pushing past her gently, I hurried to my locker, hoping no one noticed how rattled I was. But before I could even start turning the lock...

"Hey, girl, what's with the rush?"

Eska's voice rang behind me. She was leaning casually against the row of lockers, arms folded, her eyes sharp and curious and i knew she wasn't letting this go.

I sighed, my fingers trembling slightly as I tried to focus on my locker. "It's… Charles," I said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Something about him seems… off."

Pink tilted her head, now intrigued. "What is it?"

Before I could explain, Summer strolled over, tossing her hair back with a dramatic flair. "Everything," she said flatly, sliding into the conversation like she'd been listening all along. "I mean, come on. I never bought his story. Who just disappears and then shows up like nothing happened? For all we know, Resa and Alexa could pop up next, smiling and holding Starbucks cups."

I shook my head quickly. "It's not that," I whispered. The memory of our conversation with Charles burned in my mind, sending another shiver down my spine. "I talked to him… asked if he knew where Annie was."

The moment I said her name, Pink and Eska froze, their faces tightening with concern.

"And?" Eska asked.

I swallowed hard. "He denied ever knowing her."

"Wait, what?" Pink blinked rapidly. "As in… completely?"

"Completely," I confirmed, my voice trembling despite my attempt to stay calm. "That's not even the worst part. He denied ever having a girlfriend. And the way he said it… it didn't feel like lying. It felt like... like Annie never existed to him."

Summer's brows furrowed. "That's… messed up."

Eska shook her head slowly. "Wow. Now that's strange."

"That's not all," I continued, lowering my voice even more. "When I walked away… I noticed him staring at me suspiciously."

"Geez." Pink exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her forehead. "What is happening right now?"

Eska slammed her locker shut and swung her bag over her shoulder, her voice firm. "Whatever's happening, it's not good."

That night, back in my hostel room, the unease clung to me like a shadow I couldn't shake. I perched on my bed with my laptop, determined to find something, anything that made sense.

First, I typed in the name Donald Pathaway. Nothing. No Wikipedia entry. No news articles. Not even a blurry old photo in some forgotten archive. It was like the man didn't exist.

Weird.

How could someone so powerful leave zero trace? Unless… it was deliberate. A cover-up?

I bit my lip, shaking my head. No, that wouldn't make sense. Would it?

Frustrated, I switched gears and searched for information on the forbidden magic Raymond had mentioned earlier; necromancy.

Instantly, dozens of results popped up. Articles. Blog posts. Even a few news reports about cults and rituals. I devoured everything I could find, reading until the words blurred together. Dark magic. Ancient rites. Raising the dead. But no matter how much I read, nothing connected to what I'd seen in that vision.

Finally, I shut the laptop with a soft click, staring at the ceiling in defeat. My head throbbed with questions.

I wanted to believe Raymond was lying, to think this was all some twisted game he was playing but I couldn't shake the vision I had at the clinic, and somehow, it might be connected to this mysterious Donald Pathaway he mentioned.

I whispered the name into the quiet of the room.

"Donald Pathaway…"

Saying it out loud sent a strange chill through me. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to replay every detail of that vision.

He saw me.

The realization struck like a blade. My chest tightened.

How?

Why?

My voice cracked as I whispered again, almost as if summoning him:

"Donald Pathaway."

He's real.