"The world believed she healed. But darkness is patient."
---
Night had fallen like ink spilled across the sky.
The trees in the backyard near the forest loomed like ancient watchers—silent, unmoving, yet alive. The moon hung high, full and ghostly white, half-shielded by rushing clouds. A gust of wind stirred the fallen leaves, making them whisper secrets that no one wanted to hear.
And then—
Footsteps.
Running. Barefoot. Fast. Uncontrolled.
A girl in nightwear, her tank top sticking to her skin with sweat, her long hair loose and wild, tore through the high grass. Her breathing was loud, erratic—but not from exhaustion.
It was hunger.
Craving.
A need.
It was Emma.
But not the girl they all knew.
Her eyes… were no longer hers.
They were milky white, glassy, glowing faintly like frostbitten stars. The pupils had vanished entirely, consumed by the possession that now ruled her veins. Her mouth moved, whispering foreign sounds—old words that had no place in this century.
"ᚨᛗᛖᛚᛁᚨ… ᛉᛁᚾ ᛞᚨᚱᚲᛊ…"
Her voice came in two tones—her own, and a deeper, raspier voice woven inside, like something was speaking through her.
She reached the clearing.
The forest breathed.
And she smiled.
A smirk so terrifying, it didn't belong to her. It curled too far up her cheek. It was a predator's grin.
She stretched her arms out wide and let out a broken laugh—the laugh of someone who has finally returned to power.
Then, she dropped to her knees and began to draw.
Using a piece of sharpened black stone in her pocket—the same one once hidden in Nathan's grasp—she dug into the dirt, carving symbols with rhythmic force. Circles inside circles. Runes around them. Connecting lines and mirrored patterns. With each completed curve, the ground pulsed like it was alive.
From her lips poured incantations not heard for centuries.
"Arkan daez el'morrak… res'el zintor… shath'rak d'amar..."
The ground responded.
A chill rose in the air.
The moon above flickered, a momentary eclipse shadowing her.
The markings began to glow faint red, and the wind howled around her like the forest was screaming. But Emma's face was still. Her white eyes unblinking. Her expression… bliss.
She stood in the center of the summoning circle and raised her hands.
"ᚠᚨᛚᛚᛖᚾ ᚲᛁᚾᚷ… rise again…"
A black raven shrieked and flew off from the branches above.
The trees groaned.
The very earth trembled.
Suddenly, her body convulsed, just for a second, and she screamed—not from pain, but from power.
And then...
She laughed.
Not Emma's laugh.
But Amelia's.
A shrill, haunting echo that pierced the silence of the forest. The girl tilted her head to the sky, her veins glowing faintly in a purplish tint, spreading down her neck like ink underwater.
She dropped to all fours and ran her fingers across the finished circle, chanting faster now. Almost frantically. Like time was slipping.
"She's coming..." the voice whispered.
"She's never left."
---
A flash of red. A blink. Silence.
And then... Emma froze.
Her fingers paused mid-air. Her mouth stopped chanting. Her expression went blank.
And for a single moment…
...her eyes flickered back to normal.
She looked down.
At the glowing runes she had drawn.
At the forest breathing around her.
At the circle she had made.
And she whispered softly to herself, trembling:
"…What… what am I doing?"
And then—
White again.
Another laugh.
Her body jerked up.
She stood tall.
Unfeeling.
Unhuman.
The spell was complete.
The forest now remembered the language of death.
---
Meanwhile…
No one knew.
Not Peter—fast asleep, thinking everything was normal.
Not Chloe, who had been texting Emma funny memes just half an hour ago.
Not Liam, who had sat up that night in his office, for some reason unable to fall asleep—something in his chest telling him something's not right.
And certainly not Edward, who had been dreaming of Emma finally healing for real.
But far from their homes, behind Emma's own backyard...
The real ritual had begun.
Not the one from six months ago.
Not the one meant to banish Amelia.
But the one that would set her free.
And Emma, the girl who once bled to keep the world safe...
...had unknowingly just opened the door again.
The wind outside whispered like it always did—soft, almost comforting—but inside her heart, Emma Blanders felt anything but safe.
She stood still, her breath shallow.
The morning light was peeking through her curtains, warming her room in gold… but it felt wrong.
Because last night…
She had no idea how she got to the forest.
She blinked again and again, trying to erase the image from her memory, but it was still there.
The cold air.
The circle etched into the soil.
The… symbols.
And her own hands—black-stained and trembling.
She had run back home in the middle of the night, barefoot, breathless, crying without even knowing why. By the time she reached her bed, she could hardly breathe.
Now… she sat at her study chair, staring at her reflection in the mirror across the room. Empty eyes. Pale face. Lips trembling.
She wasn't bleeding.
There were no bruises.
But something was happening inside her.
Something she couldn't understand.
---
At school, the world was in full swing. The hallway buzzed with usual noise—laughter, shoes squeaking on floors, lockers slamming.
Emma walked in, silent. Her hoodie was oversized, sleeves pulled all the way down, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep.
"Emma!" Peter ran to her, excitement as usual. "I thought you were sick yesterday! Everything good?"
She blinked. "Yeah, just… needed some sleep."
He frowned. "You sure? You don't look like you slept."
Emma forced a laugh. "Thanks, Percy. That helps."
He winced and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I mean—you just look… tired. Not like you. Is everything okay?"
Before she could answer, a familiar voice called from behind her.
"Emma."
She turned.
It was Liam.
Standing near the glass entrance, sleeves rolled up, sunglasses hanging from his shirt, he looked straight out of a fever dream. Even more unreal than usual. His jawline sharper, his eyes focused, but soft when they met hers.
"I told you I'd pick you up for lunch."
Emma blinked again. "Oh… right."
He smiled, then narrowed his eyes a little. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She nodded too fast.
But Liam wasn't buying it.
---
🌿 In Liam's Car
The engine hummed quietly. Liam was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear.
Emma looked out the window, not saying much.
"Emma," Liam said gently, his eyes flicking between the road and her, "I've known you for almost a year now."
She didn't respond.
"I can tell when something's off. It's in your eyes. You're somewhere else."
Her throat tightened.
"I'm fine," she lied, voice small.
Liam didn't push, but he didn't look away either.
He parked the car under a giant tree in a quiet street near the café they were headed to.
"Okay," he said. "You don't have to tell me. But I'm not going to pretend I didn't notice. You can lie to everyone else, Emma. But don't lie to me."
Her heart beat faster.
Something inside her cracked.
"I woke up in the forest last night," she said suddenly, almost like it had burst out of her.
He turned sharply toward her, his breath hitching.
"What?"
"I—I didn't remember going there. I just… found myself there. Alone. My eyes were white, Liam. I-I saw it in the water's reflection. I wasn't me."
He froze, completely still.
Emma finally looked at him, tears building in her eyes.
"I ran back. I had dirt on my hands. Symbols on the ground. Things I don't remember drawing. And when I woke up this morning—I wasn't in bed. I was on the living room sofa. Again."
Liam stared at her, pale. "Has this happened before?"
She nodded. "So many times. In my room, mostly. I've woken up standing in front of the mirror, hands stretched out. Once I was clutching the black stone Nathan gave me. Another time I was muttering something in my sleep. Chloe told me."
She shook her head. "But not like this. Not the forest. Not drawing symbols. It's getting worse, Liam. I'm scared."
Liam's chest rose and fell, his jaw clenched.
"Emma," he whispered. "She's not gone."
Emma's eyes brimmed with terror.
Liam exhaled shakily. "You said Amelia was destroyed during the ritual. But this... this sounds like she's trying to set herself free again."
A silence fell over them.
And then he gently reached out and took her hand.
"You gave her too much damage last time," he murmured. "She needs time. Maybe all this time she was just... waiting. Healing. Watching."
Emma looked at him, vulnerable. "But Liam… what if she never left?"
His grip tightened.
"Then we fight again."
Her breath caught.
Liam's gaze didn't waver. "You're not alone in this, okay? Not now. Not ever."
---
They didn't end up going to lunch.
They sat in the car for an hour.
Talking.
Laughing at small jokes.
Liam told her about work—about how his employees still thought he was too young to handle the bigger clients. Emma teased him, saying he did look like a rich 22-year-old brat. He smirked and told her he didn't mind—as long as she thought he was hot.
She blushed hard.
And in that moment, for just a second, she forgot about Amelia.
---
Later that day in school, Nathan came up to Emma. His face looked pale, and the bags under his eyes gave away everything.
"You look like you haven't slept," Emma said.
Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't. Just… restless."
She hesitated. "Same here."
He looked at her. "Is everything okay?"
Emma blinked. "Yeah."
They shared a long pause. Something unspoken between them.
Then she added, "Tomorrow. I think I need your help."
He nodded. But his eyes darkened—with guilt Emma didn't notice.
---
Meanwhile, Chloe pulled Emma aside after class.
"Hey," she said, arms crossed. "You and Nathan have been weird lately. Secretive."
Emma froze. "What?"
"Don't what me," Chloe replied. "You think I don't notice? You're hiding something. From us."
Emma forced a laugh. "It's nothing, Chloe. Nathan just asks too many questions about magic. He's always been curious."
Chloe frowned, unconvinced. "You sure?"
Emma nodded quickly. "Promise."
But her heart whispered:
Lies.
---