Chapter 24,The Bloody Hall

**The Academy's Basement, the Place of the Forbidden Book's Seal**

The air in the basement was cold and heavy like the breath of the devil. The smell of dust, stale blood, and burnt paper lingered in the air. From the damp stone walls, a distant whisper could be heard — whispers that seemed to have traveled through thousands of years of dark history to reach this place.

An old man, bent over with a cane made from an ancient alder tree, walked slowly and quietly. His steps were silent, as if he were part of the basement itself, a fragment of the darkness. His long white hair floated like silver threads in the still basement air, and his dim, dull eyes stared fixedly into the distance — at the book.

A book resting on a stone pedestal in the center of the underground hall. Its cover was made of human skin, dark and coarse, engraved with symbols that resembled silent screams. The pages were made of a thin yet tough material similar to skin, marked with dried blood. This book held thousands of years of curses within it, and now, from within its enchanted chains, it whispered — whispers yearning for freedom.

The old man looked at it. Not with fear, nor with reverence, but with fascination. Something inside him was nourished by this book.

Suddenly, a soft yet warning voice came from behind him:

"You shouldn't stand there… it's dangerous!"

The old man didn't even turn around. He sighed and said:

"Ah… Thomas, is that you again?"

A young guard in a blue uniform, his chest shining with magical medals, approached. His face was serious but tired. The dark circles under his eyes testified to sleepless nights spent guarding the book.

Thomas smiled faintly and said calmly but firmly:

"The seal's been weakening for a long time... The book has become restless. Getting close to it, especially now, is dangerous. It eats people's minds... like a parasite."

The old man replied with a heavy but emotionless gaze:

"I've been guarding this book for eighty years, Thomas. I know all its dangers better than anyone in this academy. Even better than Charles."

Thomas hesitated, took a step forward, and asked with doubt:

"Then why did you get so close?"

The old man stared at the book with a look both loving and terrifying, whispering:

"Because it's beautiful... unique. Because in the heart of darkness, I seek a light that others don't dare to see."

Thomas raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back.

"This is madness, old man. It's a cursed object. Last night, five of the guards' minds were corrupted, they went insane. One gouged out his own eyes. The others started killing each other. We had to end them before the curse spread. If we had been even an hour late, the whole capital would have fallen."

The old man just laughed. A bitter laugh, full of meaning.

"That's what fascinates me, my son."

Thomas fell silent. The silence was full of questions.

The old man spoke again:

"You know, this book isn't just a tool. It's a gateway. They say about twenty thousand years ago, during the era of ancient kingdoms, a demon wrote it. He gave it to the great northern king and warned him to use it only in times of need... but greed consumed the king. The result? All the people of the kingdom, even the neighboring countries, died. The book is alive, Thomas. It has made its way to today. It decides where it wants to be."

Thomas said seriously:

"Charles believes we must destroy it. Maybe that's the only way."

The old man paused, then whispered so softly Thomas barely heard:

"Charles... he's just scared. He doesn't understand the value of this book. This book is beyond the human soul. Beyond concepts like good and evil."

At that moment, the sound of metal chains breaking was heard. The old man's and Thomas's eyes turned toward the book at the same time. The chains, one by one, broke with groaning sounds. A faint red light glowed from between the book's pages.

The old man shouted in horror:

"Start the seal immediately! Don't let it open!"

But it was too late. Thomas suddenly bled from his mouth and eyes. His body trembled. It was as if something dark exploded inside his mind. A voice whispered in his ear... and he was no longer Thomas.

With a shattered scream, he attacked the old man, wrapping his hands around his throat and started squeezing...

---

**Academy's Upper Floor – Charles's Classroom**

In the bright classroom, the sound of chalk on the board was heard. Charles, the senior professor of protective magic and theoretical magic, with silver hair and long blue robes, was writing something. But his hand trembled. His mind was elsewhere.

He couldn't focus. A feeling twisted in his heart — not fear, nor worry, but something deeper. As if a warning bell had sounded in his soul. His elite skill, "magical sense," suddenly slammed a wave of screams and terror into his mind.

The chalk dropped from his hand.

His eyes widened.

"No…"

He turned toward the students and shouted loudly and commanding:

"Everyone evacuate the academy immediately! Right now!"

The students froze at first. They had never seen Professor Charles shout like that.

"I said, right now!!"

The students hurried to exit.

But Charles's heart was pounding. Only one thought remained in his mind: Anna.

He had to save Anna.

He rushed down to the lower floor. With every step, the sound of screams grew louder and closer. Terror was rising from the depths of the basement.

He knew… the corruption started there, and whoever gets closer, surrenders faster…

And Anna was in the last classroom on the first floor…

---

**Charles's Entrance to the First Floor – The Beginning of Hell**

The spiral stone stairs of the first floor trembled under Charles's quick steps. His breaths were short, and his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. With each step, the magical energy around him thickened; like breathing in toxic fog.

As soon as he stepped onto the first floor, a scene unfolded before his eyes that would be etched in his soul forever.

The long hall, once filled with the sounds of students' laughter and daily comings and goings, was now drowned in chaos and blood. The walls were no longer white; blood stains, torn flesh pieces, and streaks of dried blood covered everything. The sounds of screams, sobbing, crying, and mad laughter intertwined. A living nightmare.

The students, once innocent and eager, now had distorted faces. Their eyes were red, their lips twisted into sick smiles, and their skin was blotchy and dark. Some had torn chains from the walls and attacked others with them. Others wielded knives, forks, or even their teeth…

One girl student, dragging her bloody friend's body, murmured something under her breath. Ancient words… words from a demonic tongue.

Charles froze on the spot. For a moment, time seemed to stop. The whisper of the book echoed even from this distance in his mind. He had to find Anna. **Now.**

---

**Management Room – Another Beginning of Corruption**

At the end of the floor, behind a wooden door with a golden plaque that read "Academy Director," the screams were still muffled and distant. The director, a middle-aged man with a short beard and the academy's formal blue attire, sat behind his desk. An old book about "Defensive Magical Seals" lay open in front of him. His eyebrows were furrowed, and the sobbing sounds disturbed his mind.

He hesitated and stood up. Walked toward the door. His hand reached the handle, when suddenly...

The door burst open forcefully.

Before he could react, one of the professors entered; but not with a familiar face. His skin pale, eyes dark. His lips stained with fresh blood, and his nails sharp and black, like small knives.

"Sir… today is the day of salvation… the day of awakening…"

Without hesitation, the corrupted professor attacked the director. His hands wrapped around the director's neck, clawing, squeezing. The director's eyes bulged. He struggled to breathe. He was dying.

But the director, with years of experience in magical wars, was still strong. With one move, he threw the professor toward a bookshelf. The shelf collapsed. Dust rose. The director kicked him hard in the chest, and the professor fell to the ground with an unpleasant scream.

Breathing heavily, the director pressed his hands against the wall and stood up with difficulty. He glanced around for a moment. His ears filled with the sounds of fighting. He made his decision.

He opened the door.

---

**The Bloody Hall – The Final Order**

As soon as he stepped into the main hall, he saw the guards fighting waves of corrupted professors and students. Burning spells, ice explosions, light traps, and blood… everything mixed together. The academy had turned into a savage battlefield.

The clock on the wall spun counterclockwise, and the academy walls were painted with blood:

"Demand Death"

One of the guards, a young man with a silver helmet and armor now covered in scratches and blood, reached the director, out of breath.

"Sir… what should we do?!"

The director was still in shock. His gaze was fixed on the chaotic scenes around him. One of the teachers was banging his head against the wall. A student was biting his teacher's legs. Blood dripped from the ceiling.

The guard spoke again:

"Sir? Sir?"

No answer came.

With a louder voice and terrified eyes, he shouted:

"Sir, what should we do?!"

The director finally took a deep breath, as if waking from a deep nightmare. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and said in a firm and ruthless voice:

"Kill them all."

The guard froze.

The director locked eyes with him and repeated:

"All of them. Students, teachers... if their minds are corrupted..."

He paused, the decision weighing heavily on him. His fists clenched tighter as he realized his mistake, but it was too late. He had made his decision:

"Anyone whose mind is corrupted should not live. Even if I myself become corrupted, kill me. This is an official order."

A moment of silence.

Then, the director continued seriously:

"Inform the other guards. Seal all the entrances and exits of the academy. No one is to come in or go out. This chaos must stay here. It must end here... even if we all die."

The guard nodded and hurried away.

The director stood amid the ruins. His heart was heavy, but his gaze was determined. He knew... this was only the beginning of the disaster.

The guards were mercilessly cleansing the school. Step by step, classroom by classroom, every teacher and student whose mind was corrupted and possessed was executed without hesitation. The sound of swords being drawn echoed through the eerie silence of the school, broken only by short, broken cries.

At that moment, Charles, panting and covered in blood and dust, reached the end of the first-floor corridor. His eyes wide open, his mouth dry, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. The hall was soaked in blood; the walls stained with blood smears and invisible writings. Sinister smiles were drawn on the walls with bloody fingers, as if madness was lurking behind those smiles.

The screams had mostly faded. Silence had replaced the screams—a heavy, empty silence that instilled more fear than any sound.

Charles's breath caught. With each step closer to Anna's classroom, his body trembled more. Anxiety coiled inside his chest like a snake trapped in a cage. He pressed himself against the wall, placed his hand on his chest, and whispered with a pain that pierced his very bones:

"Why is my heart pounding like this? Why can't I move? I'm breaking... but I have to reach her... Anna..."

He slowly opened the classroom door...

What he saw was etched forever in his mind. Motionless bodies scattered around the room; students, teachers... and among them, a small girl with curly black hair lying on the ground. Anna... lifeless and cold, clutching a crumpled drawing of herself and her father in her small, powerless hands.

Charles couldn't endure anymore. His whole body weakened and he bent over, retching what was in his stomach. Tears did not come, not from shock, not from pain. But his heart... his heart was broken, not into two halves but into thousands of invisible pieces.

With trembling knees, he moved toward Anna. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't accept it. He held his daughter's small body in his arms, pressed his cheek against her cold forehead, and whispered:

"Anna?... My daughter... Daddy's here... get up... please... don't leave me alone anymore..."

There was no answer. Only silence and a deadly coldness. Charles lost all control. He screamed with all his might, wailed, and wept, until he gasped for breath, as if a part of his soul had been ripped out of his body with her death.

At that moment, a dark and sinister voice echoed in his mind. A soft, whispering, malicious voice:

"Kill them all... none of them deserve to live... destroy all those who caused this... then your pain will ease..."

Charles, with empty eyes, as if something inside him had died, murmured:

"Marcus..."

The voice responded with tempting excitement:

"Yes... he's the culprit... if he had listened to you, all these people, all these innocents wouldn't have died... Anna would still be alive..."

The voice came from the cursed book Charles had fought earlier. A book with an evil will that had tried with all its power to possess Charles's mind. But Charles's unique skill, "The Manipulator," prevented direct control, a silent guardian that neutralized any external influence without needing conscious effort from its user.

Still, the book had ignited a spark, one that turned into a merciless fire deep inside Charles's soul. A fire of vengeance, not justice.

He kissed Anna's forehead gently and laid her body softly on the ground. But in his eyes, nothing of the past remained. The light that once shone as humanity within him was now extinguished. Something darker and more terrifying had taken its place.

"That director... he's the only one who took my daughter from me... I'll make him pay. Not just him, but the entire system he protected will fall. I'll show him terror and horror... then he'll understand the hell I've created."

At that moment, guards with bloodied swords entered the classroom. Seeing Charles kneeling beside his daughter's body, they hesitated. One cautiously lowered his sword and said:

"Turn around slowly... we don't want to hurt you. Just want to make sure you're not infected. Raise your hands and stand up, okay?"

Charles said nothing. With empty eyes, he slowly stood up and raised his hands. His gaze was still on Anna. The guards quickly inspected the room and left, resealing the book.

But it was too late. Many innocent lives had been lost, and only corpses remained in the academy...

Days later, in a rain-soaked cemetery, a small crowd stood around Anna's grave. Everyone's eyes were heavy with deep sorrow. Charles, with a hollow face, stared at his buried daughter's body. Each time soil was thrown on the grave, it was as if a piece of his soul was being buried as well.

The rain intensified. The crowd slowly dispersed, but Charles remained kneeling on the soil. It was as if the rain wasn't wetting him but tearing him apart. His hands became muddy. He began clawing at the ground with trembling fingers, whispering:

"If only I had made a different choice that day... if only I had acted sooner... you'd be alive now!..."

Tears, rain, dirt... all intertwined.

Marcus, with compassionate eyes, tried to comfort his friend. He knew that if he had listened to Charles, so many innocents wouldn't have died. Then he put his hand on Charles's shoulder to console him.

Charles, staring at Anna's grave, immediately pushed Marcus's hand away with anger.

Marcus was shocked and said with a sad, pitying tone:

"Charles, I'm sorry... if I could go back in time, I would never repeat the mistake I made. I hope you can forgive me someday."

Charles, with lifeless eyes, said:

"So many innocent people died, innocent children and teachers who served and protected others, all killed because of you, Marcus! I will never forgive you."

A sadness crept into Marcus's voice as he said:

"I'm truly sorry... sorry for the pain I caused you... When you're ready, I'll talk to you."

After Marcus left, Charles still stared at Anna's grave. Beside him, Sebastian, his loyal servant, stood silently, holding an umbrella over Charles, never moving an inch during the entire time.

Hours passed. The rain kept pouring. Charles's mind was consumed by thousands of memories, guilt, and one thing: **revenge.**

Sebastian spoke softly and mournfully:

"Master... it's time you rest a little..."

But Charles did not answer.

And at that moment, something bloomed in the silence of the cemetery.

Not a new life, but a monster born from grief and vengeance...