Chapter 3: Bewitched Part 3(Final)

The rain fell in sheets, a relentless downpour that hammered the windows with a rhythmic beat. It was as if the sky itself was mourning the tragedy that had struck their school. The storm mirrored the chaos that had erupted in the lives of everyone who had heard the news. The hallways, usually filled with chatter and laughter, were eerily silent. Every step echoed through the corridors like a whispered reminder of the tragedy that had shattered their world.

Himmel leaned against his locker, his fingers numb as they lingered over the books in his hand. His mind couldn't quite focus. How could it? The brutal murder of Brandon Leewood, his two friends, and the three girls had rocked the school to its core. The gory details of their deaths had spread quickly—ripped limbs, torn open stomachs, and eyes gouged out. It was too much to process, and the overwhelming horror kept looping through his mind like a sickening reel.

A few days had passed since the news broke, but the reality of what had happened still hadn't settled in. The images of Brandon's body, mangled and mutilated beyond recognition, haunted him. For all of Brandon's faults, Himmel knew that no one deserved such a fate. He had never liked the guy—Brandon had been a bully, a jerk who'd made Himmel's life harder in many ways. But this… this wasn't just a death. It was something more—something personal. Something deliberate.

The hallway was a dead zone of nervous whispers and side-eyed glances. Students, once boisterous and carefree, were now shadowed, their faces pale as they murmured about the grisly details of the killings. Some of them stood in small clusters, checking their phones for any new updates. But it wasn't the rumors they were concerned with anymore—it was the fear. Fear of who could do such a thing. Fear of why it had happened. And a growing fear of what might come next.

Himmel's grip tightened on his books, but his thoughts were a million miles away. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of person could commit such an atrocity. What drove them to rip apart human beings like they were nothing more than pieces of meat? And more importantly, why did he feel so disturbed by it? It wasn't as if he was close to Brandon. It wasn't as if they were friends. So why did it feel so personal? Why couldn't he shake the feeling that something far darker was at play?

"Crazy, right?" Liora's voice broke through his thoughts.

Himmel blinked, pulling himself out of the haze. He turned to see her standing beside him, her usual calm composure slightly rattled. Her auburn hair, wet from the rain, clung to her cheeks as she looked up at him, her blue-green eyes filled with concern.

Himmel's lips parted, but words failed him for a moment. How could he explain the storm of emotions swirling inside him? He wasn't sure if he even understood it himself. "Yeah," he finally managed, his voice hoarse. "I didn't think it would be like this, you know? Not for Brandon."

Liora nodded, her expression softening. "No one deserves to die like that. No one."

But Himmel couldn't help but think—Brandon had been a bully. He'd made his life harder for years. But now, standing in front of him, Himmel could see the bigger picture. There were things that transcended personal grudges. People didn't deserve to die like that. Ever.

The silence that followed between them felt thick with unspoken words. But before he could continue, the familiar figure of Hunter appeared at the end of the hallway. Himmel's stomach tightened when he saw him, his first instinct being to avoid the confrontation. But there was no turning away now.

Hunter walked toward them, his footsteps loud against the tile, cutting through the tension like a knife. Gone were the days when Hunter had been the quieter, introspective friend, the one who hid behind thick glasses and a reserved attitude. Now, he wore a mohawk with a defiant sneer, his clothes a far cry from the button-ups and jeans he used to wear. Instead, he wore a leather jacket with a skull logo, ripped jeans, and boots that clacked loudly with every step.

It was as if the news of Brandon's death hadn't even phased him. In fact, he seemed almost… unbothered by it.

"Yo, Himmel," Hunter greeted with an almost casual wave. His voice was a little too loud, a little too careless. "Did you hear the news?" He leaned against the locker next to Himmel, a half-smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, his eyes scanning the crowd of students who seemed more afraid than curious.

Himmel's stomach twisted in discomfort. There was something off about Hunter—something different. He hadn't seen him this way before. "Yeah, I heard," Himmel said, his voice tight. "Can you believe it? They—" He stopped, his words stuck in his throat. It was hard to find the right way to say it. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't ignore the way Hunter was acting. It wasn't normal.

Hunter shrugged, unfazed. "It's just a bunch of stupid kids. People die. It's not like it's the first time something like this has happened." His tone was dismissive, almost callous. "I mean, sure, it's messed up, but life goes on, right?"

Himmel stared at him, unsure if he was hearing things right. "Hunter, what the hell? How can you just act like it doesn't matter? People are dead. And the way they died—this isn't normal, man. This is... this is something else."

Liora, standing silently beside Himmel, could feel the tension in the air, but she remained quiet, her eyes flickering between Himmel and Hunter. She didn't know Hunter the way Himmel did, but she could sense the sudden change in the atmosphere—there was something off about this conversation.

Hunter, however, wasn't interested in any of it. His shoulders tensed as his voice grew louder, a mix of frustration and something darker that Himmel couldn't place. "Yeah, well, what do you want me to do about it?" Hunter snapped. "You want me to cry for them? They were assholes, Himmel. Who cares? You care too much about people who didn't give a damn about you. Hell, they probably wouldn't have even cared if it was you on that slab."

The words cut through Himmel like a knife. He didn't know how to respond. It was like Hunter wasn't even the same person anymore. "You don't get it," Himmel said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't care about Brandon. But I care about what happened. And someone did this on purpose. That's what matters."

Hunter stepped closer, his face contorting with something darker than frustration—resentment. "You're always overthinking things, Himmel. It's not your problem. It's just a bunch of blood and guts. Who cares? People die, and life moves on. You can't change it, so why even try?"

Himmel's breath quickened, a knot of rage tightening in his chest. "This is messed up. You're messed up, Hunter. You've changed."

Hunter's lips curled into a smirk, but it was cold, mocking. "You're the one who's messed up, buddy. You still can't let go. You're too soft. You care too much about everyone. It's pathetic."

And with that, Hunter turned on his heel, striding away without a second glance. His footsteps echoed in the hallway, each step ringing louder than the last. The sound of him walking away felt like a door slamming shut—a door that Himmel didn't know how to open again.

For a long moment, Himmel stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, his mind reeling. He had never seen Hunter like this. This wasn't the guy he had grown up with. This wasn't the boy he had called his friend. Something inside him had cracked, and there was no telling what kind of damage it had done.

Liora didn't speak, but her presence was a quiet support. She could see how shaken Himmel was, and though she didn't know the specifics of his past with Hunter, she knew this was more than just a small argument. There was something fundamentally wrong, and it was only getting worse.

As the rain continued to fall outside, Himmel stood in the silence, feeling a sense of loss that wasn't just about Brandon. It was about Hunter. The friend he thought he knew was slipping away, and he wasn't sure how to stop it.

The rain hammered against the windows as Officer Jak sat hunched over his desk, eyes scanning the photos spread across it. His mind was racing, trying to piece together the horrific puzzle in front of him. He'd seen his share of violent crime scenes, but this one? This one was different.

The bodies of Brandon, his two friends, and the three girls were barely recognizable. Limbs torn apart, intestines scattered across the floor, and eyes gouged out—the brutality was something he hadn't encountered before. This wasn't a simple act of violence. Whoever—or whatever—did this had done it with savagery.

Jak leaned forward, rubbing his tired eyes. His mind kept telling him it couldn't have been a person. The sheer violence, the brutality—it was something primal, something beastly. His instincts told him this wasn't a crime of rage, it was a hunt. But there was something he couldn't quite explain about the scene. There were no tracks. No signs of struggle that suggested a human attacker. Just the remains of what looked like a savage killing.

He flipped through the next set of photos. Fang marks, some so deep they could have been from an animal—claw marks—scratches and slashes that didn't match any known weapon. The more Jak thought about it, the more convinced he became: it wasn't human. It wasn't a man, but something else entirely.

The idea gnawed at him. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the photos of the mutilated bodies. He kept running through the possibilities in his mind, trying to make sense of the brutality. What kind of person could do this? He had seen his fair share of brutal murders, but the animalistic nature of this attack felt different—too wild, too untamed. It was as if the person who did this had no control, no care for the pain inflicted, just the need to destroy.

His eyes flickered to the nearby whiteboard where he had pinned up the timeline of events. Two days ago, the bodies were found in a warehouse not far from the school. No witnesses. No clear evidence of how the killer got in or out. The bodies had been found already decayed, further complicating any clues. Whoever did this was calculated, careful in their planning, and yet had left behind a crime scene that was pure chaos.

Jak stood up and walked to the window, watching the rain pour down in sheets. An animal—it was a theory he hadn't wanted to entertain, but it was the only one that made sense. Maybe something escaped from the wild, an animal too dangerous to be tamed, something large and capable of tearing a person apart like that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," Jak called, barely looking up.

The door creaked open, and one of his officers stepped inside. "You wanted to know if we found anything at the scene?" the officer asked, holding a folder.

Jak took the file and opened it, scanning the contents quickly. There were no new leads. No new witnesses. Nothing that connected the victims to anyone at the scene. But one detail stood out: the lack of human tracks around the warehouse.

"Nothing?" Jak muttered. "No footprints, no tire marks, nothing."

"Nope, sir. It's like the place was left untouched."

Jak felt the knot in his stomach tighten. This was far from over. It was becoming clear that whatever did this wasn't acting like a person. He glanced back down at the gruesome images. The more he stared at them, the more certain he became: it was some kind of animal, maybe a wild beast. But he still couldn't shake the doubt in his mind. How had it gotten in without leaving a trace?

The door to Jak's office opened again, and this time, it was Mr. Leewood, Brandon's father, who walked in. His eyes were red, face drawn and pale. The grief was still fresh on him, raw and painful. But beneath that grief was something far darker—anger. Jak had seen it before, in grieving parents, in people who felt powerless to get justice. But this was different. Leewood had the kind of rage that came with knowing something unnatural had taken his son.

"Jak," Leewood's voice was low and strained. "I can't just sit around anymore. I need answers. I need to know who did this to my boy."

Jak straightened in his chair, carefully setting the file aside. He'd been expecting Leewood to come in, but he hadn't expected him to be this volatile.

"I know it's hard, but we're doing everything we can," Jak said, trying to calm the man. He wasn't sure he believed it himself, but he had to say it.

Leewood slammed his fist on Jak's desk, making the files on it rattle. "You don't understand, Jak. This is beyond murder. What they did to my boy, to all of them, it's something… unnatural." His voice was low, thick with fury and pain. "It's not a person. It wasn't a human."

Jak leaned back in his chair, studying the grieving father. His words felt eerily familiar. He had been thinking the same thing. It wasn't human, this crime. It couldn't be. The savagery, the brutality—it was far beyond what any human could do.

"I agree," Jak said quietly, his voice surprisingly steady. "This wasn't the work of a person."

Leewood looked at him, eyes wide, searching Jak's face for some kind of reassurance. "Then tell me, Jak—what was it? What did this? What kind of beast could do this?"

Jak took a slow breath. The theory was starting to settle in his mind, but he still didn't want to say it out loud. "I don't know yet," Jak said, his voice trailing off. "But I'll tell you one thing: it wasn't a person. It was something else. A wild animal, maybe… but we're going to find out what it is."

Leewood didn't seem comforted by Jak's words. Instead, his face twisted in frustration and anger.

"I want to know, Jak. I want to know who did this—who is responsible for tearing my son apart! If it's a beast, I want it gone. I want it destroyed!"

Jak didn't respond immediately. His mind raced as he considered what had happened—what was happening. But for the first time in his career, he was starting to question everything he knew. An animal attack wasn't impossible, but how? How could a beast get into a warehouse and leave no trace of its presence? It didn't make sense.

"I'm going to do everything I can to figure this out," Jak said, standing up from his chair. He gave Leewood a nod of assurance, though his own heart wasn't so sure.

Leewood stood up, his gaze hardening. "I hope you do, Jak. I hope you find the monster that did this."

Jak's stomach twisted as he watched Leewood leave the room. There was no question now. The attack had been savage. Beastly. But the mystery of how and why was still unsolved.

As Jak left the station, the rain fell harder, and the night seemed to swallow him whole. The weight of the case hung heavy on his shoulders. Whatever did this, it was out there—hunting, waiting. And Jak wasn't sure he was ready for whatever he would face next.

he rain had settled into a steady drizzle outside Himmel's apartment, the only sound besides the distant hum of traffic. Inside, the atmosphere was oddly calm, despite the storm raging just beyond the windows. Himmel sat on the edge of his couch, the phone pressed to his ear as he stared out at the muted world, a heavy feeling hanging over him. His fingers absently tapped against the side of the phone.

On the other end of the line, Liora's voice was soft but steady, like a warm blanket on a cold day. She always had this way of making Himmel feel like he could breathe a little easier. The truth was, he'd never really had someone like Liora in his life. She wasn't just nice—she was genuine. And that had a way of cutting through Himmel's layers of cynicism.

"How are you holding up?" Liora asked, her tone as soothing as the rain outside.

Himmel let out a long, tired breath, shifting on the couch. "I don't know... I don't get it, Liora. Hunter's been acting so... so different. It's like he's a whole other person. I just... I can't understand it."

Liora's response was gentle, but her words carried a sense of conviction. "People change, Himmel. Sometimes they go through things that make them act out of character. But that doesn't mean they don't still need someone to care. You're a good friend. If anyone can get through to him, it's you."

Himmel shook his head slowly, still staring out the window. The city lights flickered in the distance, their brightness doing little to pierce through the dark clouds above. "It's not that simple, Liora. I've tried. And every time I talk to him, it's like he just... shuts me out. He's angry all the time, and he won't let me in."

He could hear the small sigh on the other end of the line, a soft sound that carried a great deal of understanding. "I get that. I can hear it in your voice, Himmel. I can tell you're hurting because you care about him. But you can't make someone else change, especially when they're not ready. Sometimes, all you can do is be there—even when they don't ask for it."

Himmel clenched his jaw, his thumb running along the edge of the phone's screen. It felt as though Liora could see straight through him, like she understood exactly what he was going through. Her words were a kind of comfort, but they didn't make the pain of not being able to reach Hunter any easier to bear.

"I just... I don't want to lose him, Liora. He's my friend, you know? I've been through so much alone, and I thought... I thought I finally had someone I could count on." Himmel paused, taking in a shaky breath. He could hear his own voice crack in the silence between them. "But now, it feels like he's slipping away. Like I don't even know who he is anymore."

There was a long silence before Liora spoke again, this time with more certainty, as though she had thought it all through carefully. "You're not going to lose him, Himmel. People make mistakes. People go through rough patches, but they don't stop being who they are deep down. Hunter might be pushing you away right now, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need you. It just means he doesn't know how to ask for help. It's hard for some people to admit when they're struggling."

Himmel let her words settle in, nodding to himself even though she couldn't see. A small part of him still wanted to believe that Hunter would come around, but the frustration was gnawing at him. He wanted to believe in the person he knew Hunter could be—before the darkness took hold.

"I just wish he'd let me in," Himmel murmured. "I wish he'd see that I'm not going anywhere, no matter how bad things get."

"I know, Himmel," Liora said, her voice warm, like the sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm. "I know. And I can tell you're doing your best. But you can't carry all of this on your own. You've got me, you've got other people who care about you. And you're not alone, okay?"

The weight in Himmel's chest lightened slightly at her words. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him believe that maybe—just maybe—he wasn't walking this path all by himself.

He closed his eyes, the image of Hunter—cold, distant, angry—still fresh in his mind. But he couldn't give up on him. Not yet. Not when there was still a chance.

"Thanks, Liora," Himmel said, his voice quieter now, a little more resigned. "I needed to hear that."

"You're welcome," she replied softly, and Himmel could almost picture her smiling on the other side of the phone. "Remember, you don't have to fix everything at once. Just keep being the friend you are. That's enough."

Himmel let out a breath, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. "I'll keep trying. I just... I hope he doesn't push me too far away."

"I don't think he will," Liora said, her voice full of gentle reassurance. "People don't always know what they need until it's right in front of them."

As the rain continued to fall outside, Himmel felt a strange sense of peace settle over him. Maybe he didn't have all the answers, but for the first time in a while, he didn't feel quite as alone in his struggle. With Liora's encouragement, he could keep moving forward, no matter how tough things got.

The conversation with Liora had left Himmel with a mix of emotions—comfort, but also a gnawing sense of unease. He sat for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand, feeling the weight of the silence in his apartment. The rain was still falling softly outside, and the city had taken on a dull, gray tone, as though the weather mirrored the mood inside him.

He needed a change of scenery.

With a deep breath, Himmel stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. He needed to get out, stretch his legs, clear his mind. There wasn't much to do in the apartment, and he couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong, a gnawing feeling that had been growing ever since Hunter had changed.

Without thinking too much about it, he left his apartment and headed out into the city. The rain was gentle, but persistent, and the streets were quieter than usual, as people had taken refuge indoors. Himmel walked with his head down, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his mind occupied by a million thoughts—about Hunter, about the strange events unfolding, about the murder of Brandon and his friends. The city felt distant, disconnected, and for a moment, it was hard to remember that life used to feel different.

As he walked, he found himself drifting toward a part of town he didn't often visit—a narrow street lined with quirky little shops and stalls. The kind of place that always seemed to have a strange, almost mysterious air about it. The kind of place that attracted people looking for something a little... off.

He barely noticed the sign hanging above the door until he was almost standing right in front of it. Imogen's Mystical Goods it read, in curling, gold letters.

Himmel had heard rumors about Imogen, mostly through the whispers of other students. The woman was known for her tarot readings, crystal healing, and all sorts of divination practices. Some people even claimed her store was cursed—strange things happened in there, they'd say. Still, Himmel had never had much reason to believe in such things. He'd always been a bit skeptical about the occult, though something about the place had always intrigued him.

But today, as his feet carried him closer to the door, Himmel wasn't sure what he was hoping to find. His heart was heavy with all the uncertainty, and maybe, just maybe, something about this place might offer the answers he was searching for.

He pushed open the door, a small bell chiming softly above him as he stepped inside. The smell of incense and herbs filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of aged wood and paper. The shop was dimly lit, the walls cluttered with shelves full of odd trinkets—crystals, tarot cards, strange statues, and bottles filled with what looked like dried herbs.

And then his eyes landed on Hunter.

Himmel froze in place for a split second, unsure whether he was seeing things right. It was Hunter, but he wasn't wearing the glasses anymore. His mohawk, messy and wild, stood out even in the dim light, and his clothes—dark, tight-fitting, and covered with cryptic symbols—made him look like a completely different person. He was standing behind a counter, talking to Imogen, her dark eyes locked on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down Himmel's spine.

Imogen smiled as she shuffled tarot cards across the counter. She looked up, noticing Himmel's entrance. "Ah, a new visitor," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. "What brings you to my humble shop?"

Himmel blinked a few times, feeling slightly out of place. He hadn't expected to see Hunter here, especially not like this. The sight of his friend in this unfamiliar environment sent a strange chill through him.

"H-Hunter?" Himmel's voice came out unsure, like he wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be feeling anymore.

Hunter didn't immediately turn to face him. Instead, he continued to look at Imogen, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "Yeah, it's me," he finally said, voice dripping with an almost dismissive tone. "What's up, Himmel?"

Himmel's chest tightened. There was something off in Hunter's tone, something too casual, too distant. "What... what are you doing here? With her?"

Hunter's gaze finally shifted toward Himmel, though his eyes seemed distant, cold even. "Just figuring some things out," he said, voice carrying a hint of frustration. "Not like it's any of your business." He turned back to Imogen, as if Himmel's presence no longer mattered.

Imogen raised an eyebrow, studying Himmel. "Hunter is a very special client," she said, her voice dripping with hidden meaning. "He's come to seek answers, just like you."

Himmel felt a knot form in his stomach. He didn't want to believe it, but there was something about the way Imogen spoke, the way she looked at him, that set him on edge. "Hunter," Himmel said again, trying to keep his voice steady. "This isn't you. What's going on?"

Hunter let out a small laugh, but it wasn't his usual, carefree chuckle. It sounded almost hollow. "You wouldn't understand, Himmel," he said, his eyes narrowing. "You're so busy worrying about everything and everyone. Maybe I'm just trying to do something for myself."

Imogen leaned in, brushing her fingers lightly over the tarot cards on the table. "Sometimes, the path to understanding involves exploring the unknown," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "The answers are all around you, Hunter. All you need to do is open yourself to them."

Himmel's heart pounded in his chest. He didn't understand. What had happened to his friend? The person standing in front of him now didn't look like Hunter. It wasn't just the appearance. It was the attitude, the coldness. Hunter was different, and it scared Himmel.

"I don't know what you're getting into, but this isn't the way," Himmel said, his voice shaky with the mix of concern and frustration. "This isn't you, Hunter."

Hunter stepped closer to Himmel, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. "Maybe you just don't get it, Himmel," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Imogen and I, we're finding things. Things that will make us more than we ever were. You could be a part of that too."

Himmel blinked, taking a step back. "What are you talking about?" he said, his confusion growing. "I don't want anything to do with this... with her."

Hunter's expression hardened, and his voice took on an edge. "Liora," he spat, his tone bitter. "You're letting her control you, Himmel. You can't even see it. She's just a distraction. She's not what you need. I am. Imogen is. We can show you the way. Don't you want more than just the same old life? Don't you want to finally feel alive?"

Imogen's eyes glinted in approval as she watched the exchange. "Sometimes, the world doesn't give you what you deserve, Himmel. You have to take it. You have to claim it."

Himmel's heart raced in his chest. The words were so foreign, so wrong, but something about the way Hunter was looking at him—like he was trying to pull him into something deeper, something darker—sent a deep sense of dread through him. "I won't do it, Hunter," Himmel said, shaking his head. "This isn't you. This is some... something else."

Hunter's face twisted in anger, but his voice was calm, almost too calm. "You're making a mistake, Himmel. You could have everything you've ever wanted. Don't let her stop you." He looked back at Imogen, then turned his gaze back to Himmel. "You'll see. You'll regret it when you're the one left behind."

Imogen chuckled softly, a sound that didn't quite match the expression on her face. "Himmel," she said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "You think you can save him? You think Liora can save you? You're mistaken."

She stepped closer to Himmel, and for the first time, her smile faltered. Her pupils seemed to contract, narrowing into slits, her irises glowing a faint crimson. The change was subtle but undeniable, a sickening sign of the darkness beneath her calm exterior.

Hunter leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "We can show you the truth. You just have to be willing to open your eyes."

Himmel's body stiffened as he saw the shift in Imogen's eyes. The subtle yet unmistakable change—the faint glow of her pupils, the way her lips curled into a crueler smile—sent a shiver down his spine. She wasn't just any fortune-teller. She wasn't just some mystical woman with a dark shop. Something darker, far more sinister, lingered behind her gaze.

Imogen's voice dropped, dripping with an eerie venom. "Liora is weak. She's holding you back, Himmel. You'll never see the world for what it is with her by your side. But with us... with me, you could be unstoppable." She smiled, a cold, wicked grin spreading across her face.

Hunter stepped closer, his presence pressing against Himmel like a weight. "You don't need her. We'll show you everything, give you the power to take control. All you need to do is follow us, Himmel."

Himmel's stomach churned. The way they were looking at him, the way they spoke, made his skin crawl. But more than that,

Himmel's heart hammered in his chest, every word coming from Hunter's mouth like a distant, haunting echo. The chill that had settled deep within him grew stronger, gnawing at his insides. The strange energy in the air—the unspoken threat that seemed to emanate from both Hunter and Imogen—was suffocating. Himmel couldn't breathe. His legs felt heavy, his mind clouded.

Imogen's smile was no longer inviting. It was cruel, predatory, as if she knew something he didn't—something he didn't want to know. And Hunter... his best friend... was standing by her side, looking like a stranger. The person Himmel had trusted, the person who had once been his only friend, now seemed lost, consumed by something dark.

Himmel took a step back, his body stiff with fear. He couldn't stay here, not like this. This wasn't his friend anymore. These weren't the people he knew.

"I can't do this," Himmel muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

Hunter's lips curled into a smile, but it wasn't the familiar grin he used to wear. It was cold, a mask of something far more dangerous. "You'll come around," he said, his voice filled with that same hollow, empty tone. "You always do."

Imogen's eyes flickered once again—those unsettling red slits that reminded Himmel of something serpentine, something far more ancient and wicked than he was ready to face. "You'll see the truth, Himmel. There's no escaping it."

In that moment, it felt like the walls of the shop were closing in on him. The air was thick with danger, the kind that had a weight to it, a gravity that pulled you deeper into darkness the longer you stayed. Himmel's instinct screamed at him to run—to get out of here, to escape before things got worse.

Without another word, Himmel spun on his heel and bolted for the door. His feet pounded against the cold, hard floor, and the sound of his rapid breathing drowned out everything else. He didn't look back. He didn't dare. He could feel their eyes on him, the weight of their gaze burning into his back as he fled.

The cool night air hit him as he burst out of the shop and into the rain-soaked street. The city around him felt alien now, as if it had transformed into something foreign, a place he no longer understood. He didn't stop running, not until he reached the familiar streets near his apartment.

By the time he arrived at his door, his breath was ragged, his body trembling. His fingers fumbled for the key, finally managing to unlock it and shove the door open. He slammed it behind him, leaning against it as if he could block out whatever had just happened.

The room felt too small, too suffocating. He staggered into the living room, his heart still racing, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. Every corner of the apartment seemed to close in on him, the silence ringing in his ears. It wasn't just the fear—it was the overwhelming feeling that something terrible was coming. Something he couldn't stop, couldn't control.

He sank down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, his chest tightening with every breath. His thoughts were a blur, his mind scrambling to make sense of the nightmare he'd just witnessed.

Hunter. Imogen. The way they had looked at him. The way Hunter had spoken... it was all wrong.

Himmel's mind raced, his thoughts swirling like a storm. He couldn't shake the image of Imogen's eyes—those red slits. The way Hunter had acted, so distant, so cold. This wasn't a game. They weren't playing around.

Terror gripped his heart as the weight of everything started to settle on him. He had been so focused on Hunter, on their past, that he hadn't seen the danger creeping up on him. And now... now, it was too late.

Himmel's breath hitched as a new wave of panic washed over him. He could still feel their eyes on him—still hear Hunter's voice in his head, echoing that same hollow promise.

"You'll come around."

The words replayed in his mind, over and over, until they were all he could hear.

And then it hit him. The true horror of what he had just walked away from. Hunter had changed. Imogen was pulling him in, and now she wanted him too. And Liora... Himmel thought about her, his mind racing with concern. Would she be next? Would she become another casualty in whatever twisted game Hunter and Imogen were playing?

Himmel ran a shaky hand through his hair, his body trembling with the realization that his world was no longer the same. Whatever had happened to Hunter, whatever Imogen was, it was something far beyond his understanding. Something far darker.

End of the Chapter