shadow(chapter 159)

Chapter 159

Before the Archon could respond, the witch doctor's body twisted unnaturally. Bones cracked, muscles stretched, and flesh warped with sickening sounds. The air grew heavy with dark magic as the transformation overtook him. The black and red of his robes bled into his skin, and his body elongated — a massive, coiling form rising from the ground. In seconds, the witch doctor was gone, and in his place loomed a monstrous serpent, scales glinting like obsidian and blood. The creature's eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and when it opened its mouth, fangs longer than swords gleamed in the firelight.

The Arcane Archon reacted instantly. "Bombarda Maxima!" he roared, and the earth exploded beneath the serpent. Shards of stone and dirt rocketed into the air, but the snake was faster — impossibly fast. It surged forward in a blur, its massive body weaving through the debris. The Archon barely had time to conjure a shimmering shield before the snake struck. Its jaws crashed into the barrier with a sound like thunder — and the shield shattered.

The Archon was hurled backward, the force of the impact sending him skidding across the ground. He rose, blood trailing from his lips, and his eyes flared with rage. "Fiendfyre!" he screamed, unleashing a tide of living flame. The monstrous fire took the shape of beasts — wolves, dragons, and serpents — all racing toward the giant snake. But the snake didn't retreat. It charged.

The inferno closed around it — but the flames did nothing. The snake burst through the firestorm, scales glowing red-hot but unharmed. With a flick of its tail, it swept through the burning constructs, scattering them like embers. The Archon's eyes widened. "What are you?!" he demanded, but the snake only hissed — a sound like a thousand whispers of death.

The Archon raised his staff. "Imperium Tempestatis!" he bellowed. The sky itself darkened. Thunder rolled, and lightning crashed down in a blinding cascade. The storm raged at his command, bolts of searing energy raining upon the serpent. The strikes hit true — but the snake did not fall. Its body convulsed with the impact, but then the wounds closed almost instantly, scales knitting back together as if the damage had never been done.

The snake struck again — this time faster than the eye could follow. The Archon managed to throw up a barrier of pure force, but it crumbled like glass under the power of the bite. The serpent's fangs grazed his shoulder, and the pain was immediate — searing and venomous. The Archon screamed, the flesh around the wound already blackening.

Desperation fueled him. "Avada Kedavra!" he roared, the green light of death streaking toward the serpent's head. But the snake moved with unnatural speed, dodging the killing curse with ease. The ground beneath the Archon erupted as the snake's tail struck, sending him sprawling. Before he could rise, the snake was upon him.

"Protego Totalum!" he shouted, encasing himself in a dome of glowing energy. The snake slammed into it — and the shield broke in an instant. The Archon was flung backward, his body crashing into the stones of the ruined altar. Blood poured from his mouth as he tried to stand, his vision swimming.

But the snake gave him no time. It struck with terrifying finality. Its jaws closed around his leg, and with a sickening crack, the limb was torn free. The Archon's scream echoed through the jungle — but it did not last long. The snake's tail whipped around, striking his side with bone-shattering force. Ribs caved, organs burst — and still, the Archon lived.

"No—" he tried to speak, but the serpent's jaws found him again. Another limb was ripped away, then another. Blood splattered across the stones as the monstrous snake dismantled him, piece by agonizing piece. And when at last the Archon's broken, mutilated body lay still — the snake did not stop. The jaws closed around his torso, and with one final, savage bite, the Arcane Archon was no more.

The forest grew silent once more. The flames flickered, the wind whispered through the trees — and the giant serpent coiled amidst the ruins of the Order's outpost. Blood stained its scales, but its eyes remained cold and unblinking. The witch doctor had claimed his vengeance — and it was far from over.

-scene change-

The streets of London were alive with the warmth of Christmas, despite the cold. Children's laughter echoed through the snow-covered streets, their boots crunching in the fresh powder as they chased one another. The air smelled of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider, and the lights twinkled against the night. Grey Snape sat quietly on the edge of a building's stone steps, his sharp eyes watching the children play. For a moment, his face softened as a memory played in his mind — a memory of home.

By the fireplace, Hermione's laughter blended with the soft crackling of flames, and Hunter's small voice rose in giggles as Grey's own voice filled the room in a gentle lullaby: "Close your eyes, have no fears… the monster's gone, he's on the run… and daddy's here… beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy…" They had been so happy then. So safe. So loved. And they took that away from him.

The warmth of the memory twisted into cold rage, and the softness on Grey's face hardened into an expression of fury. Rising to his feet, he pulled his coat tighter around him and walked away from the joyful scene. His steps carried him through the winding streets until he stood before an unremarkable pub tucked into a forgotten alley. He pulled the witch doctor's mask over his face — and when the mask settled into place, so did the darkness in his heart.

Inside, the pub was empty, the air thick with an unnatural stillness. Grey stepped forward, boots clicking softly against the worn wooden floor. Then, a figure coalesced from the shadows behind the bar — a short, thin shape made of pure darkness. Two gleaming, childlike eyes blinked at him.

"Well, well… if it isn't the guy who's been troubling us these days," the figure said in a sing-song voice, almost like a child playing pretend. The figure turned suddenly to his side, speaking to the empty air. "I don't care if his costume's cool, Sin of Solace — we're supposed to kill him, remember?" The witch doctor didn't respond. He didn't care who this creature was speaking to. His patience was gone. Without a word, he flicked his wrist — and a vial sailed through the air, shattering at the shadow's feet. A thick, green mist burst outward, hissing as it spread — but the figure simply melted into the shadows before the potion could reach him