Chapter 2: Bewitched Part 2

Two weeks gone, and still no sign of Hunter. I hit him up, pulled up to his spot, even knocked like I had a reason to be there—but nothing. Silence. Then, word got back to me. My boy was out in the streets, no home, no backup. Him and his pops had it out, bad enough for the old man to toss him like he was nothing. Just like that, Hunter was gone, and I was left here, stuck, mad, and worried sick.

Soon as I heard, I tried going through the school, but all they gave me was some weak "we'll look into it" and talk about maybe filing a missing person report. Like that was gonna fix anything. I kept asking myself—why ain't he call me? Why ain't he let me know? But the answers never came. Just that same tight knot in my chest.

I twisted one of my dreads between my fingers, trying to shake it off. Just hold on, man.

First period started like any other day, but I wasn't feeling it. Everything felt off. Brandon and his little crew had been weirdly quiet lately, which was fine by me. Even the teacher wasn't paying them no mind.

If it wasn't for Jak, I don't know if I'd even be getting this little break. Maybe folks was finally backing off. Maybe they was starting to realize I wasn't the one to mess with. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

I was finna work alone like always when, outta nowhere, somebody walked up on me.

"Hey," a soft voice said.

I looked up from my laptop, expecting some BS, and saw this girl standing there, smiling at me. She was new—had to be. She had curly auburn hair that reached her shoulder blades, blueish-green eyes that seemed too calm for this place, and pinkish-red lips that curved into a smile. Her olive cream skin caught the light in a way that made her stand out, even in a room full of people.

"Yeah?" I said, keeping my guard up. Could be a setup, some kinda joke.

She didn't flinch. "Well, I noticed you were working alone, and since I don't have a partner either, I was wondering if we could team up?" Her smile was warm, and her voice was steady. She had this calm, almost serene presence, like she wasn't thrown off by anything.

I cleared my throat, feeling all eyes on me. "You sure 'bout that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes a little.

She tilted her head, still smiling like this wasn't a big deal. "About what?"

"Teamin' up with me." I leaned back in my chair, testing her. "You new here, right?"

She nodded. "Just transferred last week."

"Then lemme give you some advice," I said, glancing around the room. "Ain't nobody gonna sit with me unless they got a reason to. Either they tryna mess with me, or they too new to know better."

She crossed her arms, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle. "And what if I just want a partner for the assignment?"

I raised a brow. "Then you should know, people round here got long memories. You sit with me, they ain't gon' forget it."

She shrugged like she didn't care. "Well, I guess they'll just have to remember, then."

That caught me off guard. Most people would've backed off by now, come up with an excuse, maybe laugh it off and walk away. But she just stood there, waiting. Like I was the one making this a bigger deal than it had to be.

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. "You bold, I'll give you that." I gestured to the empty chair next to me. "Aight, sit down. Let's get this over with."

She smiled, sliding into the seat like she'd been there the whole time. "I'm Liora, by the way."

"Himmel," I said, watching her out the corner of my eye. "Liora ain't exactly a common name 'round here."

She smirked. "Guess you're more observant than you let on."

I just grunted, pulling up the assignment on my screen. "Don't go readin' too much into it."

The class was still quiet, but I could feel the stares, hear the whispers. Let 'em talk. It wasn't like I had a reputation to protect.

From a dimly lit window overlooking the classroom, Hunter watched. His hood was up, shadowing his face, but his eyes burned with something bitter, something ugly. He had been gone for two weeks, yet here Himmel was—laughing, talking, moving on.

"See how easily they replace you?" a voice whispered beside him.

Imogen leaned against the frame, her presence snake-like, her lips curled in amusement. "You thought he'd still be mourning, didn't you? Thought he'd be searching the ends of the earth for you. And yet..." She gestured toward Himmel and Liora with a slow, deliberate motion. "He's found someone new."

Hunter's jaw tightened. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it?" Imogen's voice was silk and venom. "Look at him. Look at how comfortable he is without you. How quickly he let go."

Hunter clenched his fists. "Himmel isn't that kind of person. He wouldn't just forget me."

Imogen chuckled, circling him like a vulture. "Oh, but he did. You were brothers, weren't you? You had his back, bled for him, and now he sits there without a second thought."

Hunter swallowed hard, but the seed had already been planted. Imogen smiled, her fingers trailing lightly over his arm. "Come now, Hunter. Let me show you how to stop being forgotten."

Scene after the time skip:

It had been a month since everything had changed. Himmel's world had become quieter in the absence of his once-close friend, Hunter. The weeks blurred together, each day a slow march forward, each one feeling just like the last. But the ache in his chest—this gnawing emptiness—refused to fade. He still found himself glancing toward the door, hoping to see Hunter walk through, though he knew better than to expect it. They'd grown too far apart for that.

Liora had become his anchor, steady and unwavering, but even she couldn't fill the void left by the boy who had once been his best friend. Still, there was something about the way Liora spoke, the calmness in her voice when she spoke of faith, that kept him coming back to her. If he was searching for answers, maybe they lay somewhere in the quiet moments she offered.

"You've been quiet today," Liora said softly, her gaze lifting from the book she was reading. The soft light from the window reflected in her eyes, making them appear almost like pools of peace.

Himmel shifted, trying to shake off the weight of his thoughts. "Just thinking about things," he muttered, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest. Liora's presence was soothing, but the past month had shown him just how much things had changed. "I don't know. Everything feels... different now."

Liora closed the book in her hands, her calm gaze never wavering. "Different isn't always bad, Himmel. Sometimes it's just... the way things have to go."

Her words were simple, but there was a truth to them that resonated deep within him. He wanted to argue, to say something cynical about how the changes were too painful, too isolating, but Liora's steady presence made him pause. He took a breath and looked away, his fingers brushing against the edge of the table, as if trying to find something to grasp onto.

"I'm tired of... feeling like I don't fit anywhere," Himmel admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. "I've been... fighting it, but it's hard. Like, I've lost the only person who really understood me. And now..." His voice trailed off, the weight of his feelings suddenly too much to bear.

Liora didn't rush to fill the silence. Instead, she waited, her expression softening as she sensed his struggle. Slowly, she reached across the table and placed her hand gently over his.

"You're not alone," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "Not anymore. You don't have to fight everything on your own, Himmel. We're in this together, okay?"

Himmel's heart thudded in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. He didn't know why he'd been so hesitant to let anyone in—not since his father's death, not since everything had fallen apart. But with Liora, for the first time in weeks, something in him cracked open. Maybe it was her calm nature, or maybe it was just the way she seemed to genuinely understand him without judgment. Either way, it made him want to trust her.

"I've been pushing people away... I didn't mean to," he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the edge of her hand. "It's just... hard."

Liora gave him a gentle smile, a small, knowing expression that spoke volumes. "I understand," she said quietly. "It's okay to be hurt. It's okay to not have everything figured out. But you don't have to go through it alone."

For the first time in a while, Himmel felt something akin to hope. Maybe it wouldn't be easy. Maybe things would never be like they once were. But with Liora, there was a sense of quiet peace that made it all feel more bearable.

Liora and Himmel had grown closer over the past month, their bond strengthening with each passing day. They had become great friends, maybe even more, though Himmel was still hesitant to put a name to it. For the first time in a long while, he found himself smiling again—genuinely, without the weight of doubt or fear hanging over him.

But that happiness was about to be tested.

One morning, as they walked to school together, Himmel was practically bouncing with excitement. For the first time in weeks, he felt good—really good. His steps were light, and he couldn't shake the hopeful feeling that something good might happen today. They were nearly to the school when the quiet buzz of whispers and murmurs reached their ears.

"What's going on?" Liora asked, looking around at the other students, who seemed to be exchanging glances and hushed words in every corner of the hallway.

"Dunno," Himmel said, though his heart fluttered in his chest. He didn't think much of it at first. His mind was on Hunter, the friend who had disappeared without a word, leaving Himmel worried and confused. "Maybe it's just a rumor or something. You know how people like to talk."

Liora didn't seem convinced, her brow furrowing slightly as she followed Himmel's gaze. There was something... off about the way the students were behaving. Something more than the usual gossip. But she said nothing, instead opting to keep walking beside Himmel as they approached their classroom.

When they reached the door, the whispers grew louder, the tension in the air thickening. Himmel felt his heart speed up, hope flaring inside him again. "Maybe it's Hunter! I haven't seen him in a while. I hope he's okay."

He pushed open the door and rushed inside, his heart thumping in his chest as he prepared himself to finally see his best friend again. His mind raced, trying to catch up to his emotions. But when his eyes landed on Hunter, he froze.

Hunter stood there, no longer the same person Himmel remembered. Gone were the big glasses that had always been so familiar, replaced by a mohawk. His army-cut hairstyle was history. His uniform was completely undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the neatness of his usual attire thrown out in favor of a logo shirt with a skull and horns. The change was jarring, like a slap in the face.

Himmel's stomach churned, a pit forming in his gut. The relief of seeing Hunter was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger and guilt. He hadn't known where Hunter had been for so long—hadn't been able to find him. He was angry at himself for not doing more. Not searching harder. For not noticing the signs sooner.

"Hunter!" Himmel practically shouted, his voice a mixture of relief and frustration. He couldn't hold back. "Where the hell have you been? You disappeared without a word. We were all worried sick, man! What the hell is going on with you?"

Hunter didn't meet his gaze. Instead, his eyes flickered to the side, briefly meeting Liora's before he looked away, as though he was trying to shut out the whole room. His expression was unreadable, but the edge in his tone was unmistakable.

"I'm fine," Hunter said, his voice flat, but there was something bitter in it. "Just... needed to make some changes, you know? I thought you'd understand. But I guess I was wrong."

Himmel's heart sank. What was that supposed to mean? He felt the knot in his stomach tighten as his confusion deepened. "What do you mean, 'wrong'? Hunter, we're friends. What the hell happened? You disappeared, and I had no idea if you were dead or alive!"

Hunter's gaze flickered again, this time with something darker in his eyes—a flash of jealousy, anger. 

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm the one who should've been forgotten," Hunter said, his voice cold now. "Maybe I'm the one who should've been left behind. You seem to be doing just fine without me. You and her."

Himmel's heart skipped a beat. Hunter's words stung more than he expected. "What are you talking about?" he asked, voice thick with frustration. "You think I just moved on? We've been through everything together, man! I was worried sick! I never forgot about you!"

But Hunter didn't look convinced. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Himmel now, his posture defensive and closed off. "It's not just about you and me anymore. It's not just about 'us.' You've found someone else. Someone who's always there for you. It's like you forgot about everything we had."

Liora stood behind Himmel, her expression calm, but there was a quiet awareness in her eyes. She could feel the tension in the room, the thick air between the two friends. She knew something had shifted, something far more complicated than Himmel realized.

"Hunter, I never forgot," Himmel said, voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I never stopped caring. You're my friend, always have been." But as he said the words, he could feel the weight of them. He wanted to believe them, wanted to believe that things could go back to the way they were. But something had changed, and he didn't know how to fix it. How could he?

Hunter's eyes were hard now, like steel. He turned away from Himmel, his voice low and laced with bitterness. "Yeah, well, sometimes people change, Himmel. And sometimes... they don't need to come back."

Himmel stood there, frozen in disbelief, his heart heavy with a mix of anger, sadness, and a growing sense of helplessness. What had happened to his friend? Why was Hunter so distant, so angry? Himmel couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing him, that something precious was slipping through his fingers.

Liora gently placed a hand on Himmel's shoulder, her voice soft but filled with an unspoken warning. "Perhaps it's time for you to stop trying to convince him, Himmel. Maybe Hunter doesn't want to understand."

Himmel's chest tightened at her words. "But I... I can't just give up on him. I've known him for so long. He's my friend." The words felt hollow, like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Liora's eyes softened, but there was a sadness in them too—something she knew, something she wasn't saying. "I know. But sometimes, people push others away because they're scared, or because they think they don't deserve to be helped. And other times... they just don't want help at all."

The weight of her words settled like a stone in Himmel's stomach. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn't come. He was too exhausted, too confused to fight anymore. Was this the end?

Hunter had turned his back on him. He could feel it—the distance that had crept in between them over the past few weeks, like a canyon he couldn't cross. All the memories of their past, their inside jokes, the times they had fought side by side... now they felt like distant dreams, like something that had never really been real.

Himmel clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms, but the anger didn't feel like it was directed at Hunter anymore. It was aimed at himself. He should've done something—should've seen the signs. He should've stopped him before it got this far. What did I miss?

"I don't know what happened," Himmel muttered, the words barely audible. "I don't know what's going on with him. What did I do wrong?"

Liora stepped closer, her presence grounding him. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're just trying to be a good friend. But sometimes, it's not enough. People have to want to change on their own, Himmel. And right now, it seems like Hunter isn't ready."

There was a finality to her tone, and as much as Himmel hated to admit it, he knew she was right. Hunter had made his choice. But it didn't stop the ache in his chest, the gnawing feeling that he'd failed.

The bell rang again, pulling him back to the present. The students began to shuffle in, unaware of the storm that had just unfolded. But Himmel couldn't shake the heaviness in the air, nor the look on Hunter's face before he'd turned away.

Liora didn't say anything else as she nudged Himmel gently, urging him to move. He followed her lead, but the weight of the situation followed him like a shadow.

"Let's go," she said quietly.

Himmel nodded, but his mind was still on Hunter—on the way his friend had looked at him, with that bitterness, that hardness. He wasn't the same person who had laughed with him just a few months ago.

The classroom felt suffocating now, a reminder of everything he couldn't fix. He sat at his desk, but his mind wasn't there. He could barely focus on anything the teacher said. Where was Hunter? What was happening to him?

Liora glanced at him, her eyes soft, but she said nothing. She didn't need to. She knew Himmel was struggling. And for the first time in a long while, he realized he didn't have to do this alone. Liora was here, a steady presence in his storm, but no amount of comfort could take away the guilt he felt.

He looked out the window, his eyes scanning the world outside, as if waiting for something to make sense again. But it didn't. Nothing made sense.

What was left for him now?

Night had fallen over the city, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows over the dimly lit alley where Brandon and his crew lounged. A case of cheap beer sat open on the cracked pavement, half-empty cans scattered around as the group laughed and jeered among themselves.

One of Brandon's goons took a swig before letting out a bitter chuckle. "Can you believe that four-eyed freak actually came back?"

"Yeah," another chimed in, shaking his head. "And he ain't the same little punk, either. Saw some guy run his mouth at him in the cafeteria—Hunter busted his lip open. Ain't gonna lie, didn't expect him to grow a pair."

Brandon scoffed, rolling a can of beer between his fingers before crushing it in his palm. Foam sprayed onto the girl sitting on his lap, making her gasp in disgust.

"The hell, Brandon?!" she snapped, shoving his arm before standing up to brush herself off.

He barely acknowledged her, his mind elsewhere. His lips twisted into a sneer. "Winchester thinks he can come back like nothing happened? Like he's somebody now?" His jaw tensed, eyes dark with malice. "And Cross… oh, I swear when I get my hands on him…"

His fingers curled into a fist, the metal of his rings glinting under the neon light.

The second goon smirked. "Yo, you seen that chick he's been hanging around with? Liora? Man, she's fine as hell."

Brandon let out a low chuckle. "Yeah… she is." He leaned back, a cruel grin stretching across his face. "Maybe after I break Cross, I'll take his girl too."

The group erupted into laughter, their voices mixing with the distant hum of the city. The night was young, but the storm brewing in Brandon's twisted mind was just getting started.

A low voice cut through the drunken laughter.

"I don't think so, Brandon."

The group froze. The laughter died.

Brandon and his goons turned toward the alley entrance, eyes narrowing at the lone figure standing under the flickering streetlight. A hood was pulled low over his head, casting deep shadows over his face, but even in the dim glow, there was something off about him.

One of the goons scoffed. "Who the hell—"

Then the figure took a step forward, tilting his head up just enough for them to see the sharp glint in his eyes.

Brandon's sneer deepened, recognition settling in. A slow, cruel grin spread across his lips as he let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Well, well, well… if it ain't the bitch-made reject himself." He swaggered forward, his boots crunching against the gravel as his goons chuckled behind him. "The shit stain on my shoe. The little pussy who used to beg me to stop."

Brandon spat on the ground, just a few feet away from Hunter's boots.

"Hunter Winchester."

The name dripped with venom, with the weight of every humiliation Brandon had put him through. His goons joined in the laughter, but there was something uneasy about it, their voices quieter than before. The Hunter standing before them wasn't the same scrawny loser they used to push around.

Hunter didn't flinch. Didn't shift.

He just stood there, still and unreadable.

Then, slowly, he took another step forward, letting the dim alley light catch the lower half of his face. A smirk tugged at his lips—not nervous, not forced.

Cold. Amused.

A smile that didn't belong to the quiet, bookish kid they used to know.

Brandon's smirk faltered for half a second.

"What?" he scoffed, trying to shake off the weird feeling creeping up his spine. "You actually think you're something now? 'Cause you threw a punch in the cafeteria? Got yourself a little makeover and suddenly you're a badass?"

One of his goons chuckled. "Man, he looks like a damn wannabe punk rocker."

Brandon's grin returned, bolder now. "That it, Hunter? You here to prove something?"

Hunter finally spoke.

"You could say that."

His voice was different—calmer, smoother, almost mocking. The quiet, nervous tremble he used to have was gone.

Brandon noticed it too. His eyes narrowed. "The hell happened to you?"

Hunter chuckled. A low, quiet sound that sent an uncomfortable silence over the group. He raised a hand, running his fingers along the edge of his hood before slowly pushing it back, revealing his face in full.

Gone was the awkward, messy-haired nerd they remembered.

His once neatly trimmed hair was now styled into a sharp mohawk. His thick-rimmed glasses were nowhere in sight, no longer needed. His expression—relaxed, almost lazy—held none of the fear, none of the hesitation they were used to seeing in him.

He looked like a different person.

No—he felt like a different person.

Hunter tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "Surprised?"

Brandon's jaw tightened, but he scoffed. "Nah. You're still the same weak little bitch to me."

Hunter just kept smiling. "Then why do you sound nervous?"

Brandon's goons shifted uncomfortably, exchanging wary glances. The air had changed. Something was wrong.

Hunter took another step forward.

Brandon clenched his fists.

Something about this didn't feel like a joke anymore.

Unbeknownst to Brandon, his goons, and the girls they were hanging out with, something loomed just beyond the veil of their sight.

A massive, coiling form slithered soundlessly through the shadows behind them, its presence suffocating yet unseen. A white serpent—larger than any creature that should exist—wound itself through the alley, its ivory scales catching the dim light like polished marble.

Its body moved with an eerie grace, sinuous and silent, like a phantom of the night.

But its eyes—deep, glowing ruby-red—stared directly at them.

Watching.

Waiting.

The girls, caught in their drunken haze, shivered without understanding why. One of them hugged her arms, rubbing her skin as if trying to shake off a sudden chill.

One of Brandon's goons—Goose, the stocky one—shifted uneasily, glancing around. "Yo… y'all feel that?"

Brandon clicked his tongue. "Feel what?"

Goose frowned, rolling his shoulders. "I dunno, man. It's like… the air just got heavy."

Another goon grunted. "Man, you're drunk."

But the unease was spreading.

One of the girls glanced toward Hunter, eyes slightly unfocused. The streetlight behind him flickered, making the shadows dance along his figure. For a brief moment, she swore she saw something shift behind him—something massive, something curling and twisting through the darkness.

Then the light steadied.

It was gone.

She blinked rapidly, her breath hitching. "Did—did you guys see—"

"No one saw shit," Brandon snapped, his irritation bubbling over. He turned back to Hunter, scowling. "Enough of this creepy-ass act, Winchester. You wanna talk big? Prove something?" He rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles. "Then step the fuck up."

Hunter just smiled.

But behind him, unseen to mortal eyes, the massive serpent opened its maw—rows of curved fangs glinting in the dim light, a deep, rumbling hiss vibrating through the air like a whisper from the abyss.

A promise of something terrible.

Hunter took another step forward.

Brandon clenched his fists.

He had no idea how close he was to something far beyond his comprehension.

Something ancient.

Something hungry.

End of the chapter