Chapter 2: The Disturbed Core

A woman appeared behind the phantom, her scarlet-red eyes glowing with an intensity akin to a sea of blood, unflinching as she watched the phantom's body split cleanly in half.

Its blood erupted in a dark spray, splattering across her fitted white crop top and billowing white baggy pants. The golden embroidery that adorned her attire glistened under the crimson stains.

Her hair, a cascading river of liquid gold, tumbled effortlessly down to her ankles. Golden arm cuffs encircled her upper arms, their delicate patterns catching the faint light, hinting at both her noble heritage and the latent power she possessed.

The top half of the phantom fell to the ground with a thud, and the occult club members observed the woman cautiously, moving away slowly, but Blue was frozen in place, captivated by her beauty.

"What did you do to her?" the woman growled.

She wondered, her eyes trailing toward Blue, who could only stare in awe. "You," her voice came off harsh, "what did you do to her?" she growled, her eyes glowing.

Sensing the danger, Ethan stood in front of Blue protectively. "She did nothing; you're the one that split her in half," he defended her, but the raven-haired stepped out from behind him.

"Why?" Blue inquired.

The lady sighed. "Can you see it?"

Blue walked closer to examine the corpse. "If you're talking about the dead corpse, then yes." She paused for a moment, and realization dawned on her. "That has not vanished..."

The woman nodded her head. She pointed at Blue's sword. "May I?" she smiled. For some reason, Blue felt as if she could trust the stranger. If the woman had wanted to kill them, they would have already been dead.

"Don't give the stranger your sword," Raphael warned, but Blue dismissed him and handed her sword with a smile. The werewolf tilted his head at the brown-haired boy to try to reason with his friend, but there was nothing Ethan could possibly do.

"All creatures have a core," the woman started, piercing the sword through the phantom's thick skin, and Kara quickly glanced away. She dragged the sword from the creature's torso to its chest.

"And every core—or as humans call it, a soul—has a unique color. It's what keeps creatures alive, even after death, but…" she paused, a scowl evident on her face, "this phantom's core has been disturbed."

Blue frowned. "What do you mean it has been disturbed?"

"It means someone intentionally fucked with a phantom's core."

The occult club members exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of her words settling over them. That would mean someone in Angel Creek was tampering with the supernatural world.

The woman handed Blue her sword, which she placed aside. "You might want to look away," she warned.

Kara was the only one to look away.

With a shrug, the woman dug her hands into the phantom's mangled chest, blood and viscera clinging to her fingers as she worked. Ethan turned pale, his stomach churning as he watched her delve deeper. He clapped a hand over his mouth, willing his breakfast to stay down, while Blue leaned in, her eyes wide with fascination.

Raphael seemed unbothered by the ordeal, but Ethan could see through his facade. He knew deep down that Raphael was freaking out internally.

"Pretty boy," the woman peeked up from the corpse, her attention on Ethan. "If you're feeling sick, you can look away if this disgusts you."

Before he could even reply, she pulled her bloodied hands free, clutching a glowing orb. It was small, radiant, and white, with delicate streaks of gold swirling within. Her scarlet eyes gleamed with triumph.

"I was right," she said with a grin. "So this is why I've weakened."

She rose gracefully, the orb glowing faintly in her palm. She studied the rowdy group of teens covered in blood from head to toe, and her eyes settled on Kara.

"Keep this safe," she ordered as she tossed Kara the glowing orb, which she easily caught.

"What do we do now?" Raphael asked. The whole night had seemed to go all kinds of wrong, leaving him confused about what to do.

"We have to bury her body" Blue ordered, and the group stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

"We can't just leave her corpse like this... it just feels wrong."

The blonde woman's eyes widened in surprise at her words.

Ethan rolled up his hoodie sleeve. "Okay, so we dig with our hands?" he asked in an upbeat tone.

"What do we do with the child?" Raphael asked about the child cradled in his arms.

"I can put him under a protection spell," Kara said, "at least while we work."

An amused chuckle slipped from the woman's mouth. She pointed her index finger at Blue. "What is your name?" she asked.

"Blue Valentine," she replied, grinning brightly at her. "What is your name?"

"Blue Valentine," Blue replied with a radiant grin. "What's yours?"

The woman paused, her gaze distant for a fleeting moment before a sly smile spread across her face. "Aria," she announced, her voice rich with pride. "Aria Morningstar."

Her name hung in the air.

****

"Come get me"

A man's a deep, husky voice carried a note of impatience as he spoke into his phone. "I'm at the airport," he said, his tone curt and final. He drummed his fingers rhythmically on the handle of his suitcase.

He was standing just outside the airport's tranquil terminal, his emerald-green eyes glimmered under the soft glow of the night sky. A faint, enigmatic smile played on his lips as he tilted his head upward, gazing at the stars. His sandy blonde curls that framed his face in a care-free slightly rebellious manner swayed along with the chilling night breeze.

He wore a tailored black suit paired with a crisp white shirt buttoned to the collar, he exuded an air of authority and refinement.

"I'm on my way," came the reply from the other end of the call. Without another word, he ended the conversation and lowered the phone.

How long had it been since he'd last been home? The thought lingered as he closed his eyes, memories flooding back unbidden. Memories of Angel Creek. The place where it all began.

"Hi," a timid voice interrupted his reverie.

He opened his eyes, his cold gaze settling on a woman standing before him.

She wore a tight black dress that clung to her figure, her flushed face betraying her nervousness as his eyes locked onto hers. Her chest heaved slightly, the neckline of her dress leaving little to the imagination. Despite her obvious attempt to captivate, his piercing gaze didn't waver from her face.

"You're the flight attendant from earlier," he stated, his voice devoid of warmth. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. 'How did she change so quickly?' he mused inwardly.

"Yeah," she replied, her gaze darting to the ground. She shifted uneasily on her heels, her bold approach faltering under the weight of his indifference.

"I was hoping we could go out for drinks," she offered, finally mustering the courage to meet his eyes. But the confidence she had hoped to project wavered when she saw the icy glare he leveled at her.

"I'll pass," he replied flatly, not a hint of interest laced in his voice. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She was used to men falling at her feet, especially when she played the shy, vulnerable role. Her attempts to read him failed.

"Can I at least get your name?" she asked, her voice tinged with defeat.

"Hardin," he replied, his voice cold and deliberate. "Hardin Carrington."

Before she could respond, she stumbled forward, her body pressing against his chest.

Her smile returned, triumphant, as his hand moved to her waist. She smirked; certain she had finally cracked his icy exterior unbeknownst to the crippling disgust growing deep within inside Hardin.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer," he murmured, his lips curving into a chilling smile that didn't reach his eyes when he saw a sleek black SUV driving up the road.

The car pulled up to the curb. The driver, clad in a sharp black suit, stepped out and opened the door. Hardin gestured for the woman to step inside, following closely behind as the driver placed his suitcase in the trunk. She slid onto his lap, her eyes alight with excitement as the vehicle pulled away from the airport.

Her lips trailed along his neck, her soft kisses growing bolder with each passing second. His hand moved up her back, fingers grazing her skin as she leaned in, attempting to claim his lips. But he turned his head slightly, avoiding the kiss.

"What?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of irritation.

Her annoyance melted into shock as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to expose the delicate curve of her neck.

A bright red red tainted his right-eye, the green completely disappearing. Sharp fangs elongated from his mouth.

"You're a monster" she muttered as fear rose in her eyes, her body tensed in panic at the sudden colour change in his eye. She tried to move but his arm kept her in place, strong and unyielding. His lips brushed against her skin and she shivered, the sensation sending a chill down her spine.

Somehow she knew that she was going to die and struggling was not going to help her.

Even though she knew, she did not want it to happen.

"Please, don't kill me" she begged faintly, shaking her head sideways as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I thought you wanted to go out for drinks" He rasped, his dual-coloured eyes shifting from her pitiful face to her neck. Then, without warning, his fangs sank into her neck and she gasped in pain, the sharp sting sending a wave of terror through her body.

She screamed, pain surging through out her body as his bite deepened. Her screams weakened, they were barely audible as her vision began to blur.

The monster beneath her fed on her blood like a rabid dog, she no longer struggled against his hold. She was too weak to fight back. Hardin drained her body completely and not in the way she had hoped, the way he fed on her reminded her of a wild animal that had not seen food in a long time.

Her heart stopped beating and her body fell limp on top of Hardin's as slowly he retracted his fangs from her neck. He shoved aside her lifeless body aside on to vacant seat beside him and wiped away trails of blood from his face using his handkerchief.

"Tell Sebastian to prepare a bath" he ordered curtly unbuttoning the first three buttons of his shirt revealing angry red blotches creeping up his neck that so badly needed to be scratched. He threw his head back, his breath short and ragged.

The driver nodded his head unfazed. "Yes, sir" he replied as he drove deeper into the small lively town known as Angel Creek.