Imagine a beautiful night. Now, imagine it is your last. What would you do? Picture yourself surrounded by everything you could desire: wealth, a sleek car, comfort at your fingertips. Yet, in this moment, you are trapped—unable to leave, unable to spend a single coin. What would you do then?

  ***

  Perhaps, in this web of darkness, the answer lies hidden within the library. But what exactly? The truth, like all secrets in Riverstrom, will reveal itself only as the story continues to unwind. The room was drowned in oppressive silence, shadows curling along the walls like living things. Nancy’s eyes were wide and glassy with terror as she gaped at the creature before her. Its sleek black fur shimmered in the dim light, and its golden gaze seemed almost human. “A Cubiosus…? What is that?” Nancy whispered, her voice barely audible over the anxious thrum of her heart. Jayson’s voice dropped to a nervous hush, his posture tense as he glanced at the door, half-expecting someone—or something—to burst through. “I found it in the forest, near Old Borden Lake,” he confessed. “I brought it here just four days ago. But… please, you mustn’t tell anyone. No one can know.”

  Elena examined the creature, her gaze lingering on its elongated, razor-sharp claws and the glint of its fangs. “Is it carnivorous?” she asked, her tone clinical, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. Jayson shrugged, helpless. “I’m not sure. Since I brought it here, it’s barely moved. It just sits there… watching. Always watching.” Elena’s brow furrowed as suspicion took root. “And you brought it here—to the library?” Jayson offered a thin, uneasy smile. “No one comes here anymore. This library’s been abandoned for years. I thought… maybe it would be safe.”

  Nancy instinctively stepped back, her hands trembling. “It looks dangerous. Those teeth—have you seen anything like them before? This thing is unnatural. I can’t shake the feeling it’s connected to all of this. I’m scared, Jayson.” Elena’s voice was taut, like a drawn bowstring. “I think this creature killed Riyan.” Jayson’s denial was immediate, frantic. “No! That’s not possible! The night Riyan was killed, I was here with the creature the entire time. When I heard the shouts outside, I left the library and went out. But it wasn’t this creature… it didn’t do it. It can’t have.” He hesitated, suspicion flickering across his features. “Wait… were you two following me?” Elena shook her head, her voice low and distracted. “No. We came to solve the puzzle…” She trailed off, her gaze drawn to the far corner of the room, where the gloom seemed to thicken. They moved toward the statue of the raven, only to find it gone. The pedestal sat empty, dust swirling in the cold air. Nancy gasped, panic rising in her voice. “Where’s the statue? It was right here yesterday!” Elena’s whisper was barely a breath. “How does a statue just disappear?”

  She turned to face the others, her tone icy and controlled. “This is part of their plan—to keep us from finding them. Every move is calculated.” Jayson’s confusion deepened, his brow knitting. “Whose plan? Who are you talking about?” Elena’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a menacing hush. “You’ll find out soon.” Suddenly, footsteps broke the silence—measured, echoing, each step deliberate and slow, like a warning from the dark. Instinctively, the three pressed themselves behind a dust-choked bookshelf, hearts pounding. A man entered, his silhouette monstrous in the dim light. He wore a long black coat, its hem brushing the cracked tiles, and ancient shoes that scraped with each step. His face was completely obscured by a shadowed hood, and in his gloved hand he carried a thick, worn book. Without a word, he strode to Shelf No. 13, placed the book there with ritualistic care, and vanished into the corridor—his footsteps fading.

  They waited, breath held tight in their chests, until the silence returned. Then, racing to the shelf, they began searching feverishly. Elena’s fingers brushed the coarse leather of the mysterious book. In this labyrinth of secrets, she always seemed to know where to look. She lifted the book and read the title aloud. Her voice seemed to ring with a strange power: “The Devil’s Corpus.” Nancy leaned in, her face pale, her voice urgent. “That book… It’s used to resurrect evil powers. I’ve read about it—inside are spiritual codes and ancient incantations to command darkness.” Jayson, clutching the edge of a shelf, his breathing shallow, asked, “But who could do something like that? Who is behind all of this?” Elena’s answer was cold and certain. “Whoever it is, they’re here in Riverstrom. Only someone close could orchestrate this.” Nancy’s suggestion trembled with dread. “We should tell Miss Winley.” Elena’s refusal was swift, steel in her words. “Not yet. We’re not ready.” Jayson spoke up, his thoughtful expression sharpening the beginnings of resolve in his gaze. “First, we need to find out who this man is.”

  Nancy’s brow furrowed, her tone determined. “But how? How do we do that?” Elena’s calm, unreadable reply: “I’ll take care of it.”

  Next Morning - Sunday

  The pale light of dawn spilled into Riverstrom Academy, revealing a school alive with activity. Students and staff scrubbed floors, dusted shelves, and cleared away the debris of secrets. The air buzzed with nervous energy, as if the building itself sensed something coming. Detective Harsh appeared at the gates, his trench coat buttoned tight against the morning chill, a faint, knowing smile playing at his lips. “Today feels special,” he murmured, surveying the scene with sharp, calculating eyes. Miss Winley stood apart, her presence commanding. “Clean that area, too,” she barked, pointing to a neglected corner of the garden, her gaze never resting for long.

  Harsh approached, pausing before her. “I thought Riverstrom was closed today,” he said, surprise coloring his otherwise measured voice. Winley returned his look with a composed but guarded smile. “Yes, but who are you?” Harsh extended a gloved hand. “Harsh, detective branch. By the way, you still haven’t told me what happened here.” Winley’s eyes flashed, her voice suddenly razor-sharp. “That’s not your concern.” Harsh’s expression hardened, determination burning in his eyes. “All these incidents are connected to this academy. Don’t forget—two children have already died.” Before Winley could reply, a girl’s scream sliced through the air, chilling the blood of everyone who heard it. Instantly, Harsh and Winley dashed into the corridor, dimly lit and cold as a crypt. There, in a tableau of horror, lay Orthox’s lifeless body—twisted, broken, blood pooling on cracked tiles. The air was thick with a suffocating, unnatural cold.

  Winley gasped, her voice breaking. “Orthox…”

  Moments later, the shrill wail of an ambulance broke the silence, red lights flickering through the foggy morning. Harsh’s jaw set as he barked, “Search everything. Miss nothing.” A short while later, Elena, Nancy, and Jayson entered the Riverstrom's' shadowy hallway, their faces etched with confusion and mounting dread. Their eyes darted from one darkened corner to another, searching for sense in a world gone mad—unaware of the horror that had just unfolded. Elena spoke, her voice little more than a whisper. “What’s happening here?” Nancy’s reply trembled. “Maybe something’s happened again.” The three moved deeper inside, surprise widening their eyes as they crossed into the crime scene. An investigator’s grave voice met them. “Looks like he put up a fight. There must have been a struggle. And this… this large tooth we found—could belong to some animal.” Instantly, Elena’s eyes snapped to Jayson, who met her gaze with equal intensity. Without a word, they ran for the library.

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  There, Cubiosus awaited them, hunched in the gloom, eyes reflecting the torchlight. Jayson exhaled, a mix of relief and disbelief in his voice. “Cubiosus is right here… Thank God.” Elena’s voice sliced through the tension. “Jayson, examine its teeth carefully.” Torchlight danced across Jayson’s face as he knelt beside the creature, prying back its lips with trembling hands. “Not a single tooth is missing… but look—these blood stains on its claws tell a different story…”

  Elena’s eyes narrowed in contemplation, her gaze hardening as shadows flickered across her face. Her voice was low, reverberating with a dread that seemed to seep from the very stones. “Whose blood could this be—hidden in the very heart of these ancient halls?” Nancy, her composure unwavering, nodded. “We need to take this to the Conips lab—the magical laboratory. If there’s any place in this cursed academy to find the truth, it’s there. That’s where we’ll get real answers.” The air felt heavy, tinged with an unspoken enchantment. As the trio collected the blood sample, the corridors seemed to close in around them, every portrait on the wall watching, every shadow stretching longer as they made their way through the labyrinth toward Conips.

  Meanwhile, at the scene of the crime, Detective Harsh stood over Orthox’s body. The body lay unnaturally twisted on the cold stone, blood dried in a grotesque pattern. Harsh’s jaw was set, eyes sharp as a blade. “By tomorrow, the test reports will be ready. Then we’ll finally know who’s responsible for this.” His words hung in the chilling air like a grim promise.

  Back in the Conips laboratory, the atmosphere was thick with magic. Pungent odours of herbs and chemicals lingered, and the faint hum of arcane power vibrated in the walls. Jars filled with strange specimens lined the shelves. Nancy whispered, “Just a touch of magic, and the truth will reveal itself.” She cracked her fingers, sparks of blue light snapping in the gloom. Glass vials seemed to shimmer and vibrate as she measured the blood with trembling hands, adding it to a potion that glowed faintly green. The trio watched, hardly daring to breathe. With a nervous, steely resolve, Nancy placed a single drop of the mixture on her tongue. Her body stiffened instantly. Her eyes rolled back, and visions—jagged, violent—flashed across her mind: red, slick floors, the Cubiosus hunched over Orthox’s limp body, its jaws stained crimson. She collapsed, her limbs jerking, mouth opening in a silent scream. Elena and Jayson lunged for her, panic etched deep into their faces. Elena gripped Nancy’s cold hand, whispering her name desperately. After what felt like an eternity, Nancy’s body relaxed. She blinked up at the ceiling, breaths shallow, voice hoarse. “It’s Orthox’s blood. I saw it—the Cubiosus was drinking Orthox’s blood.”

  Jayson staggered back, horror dawning on his face. “But that’s impossible. The Cubiosus is locked away. Who could have released it?” Nancy forced herself upright, her face pale but resolute. “The same man who came to the library that night—the one who took the book.” Elena’s eyes shone with a cold fire. “How do we identify him?” Jayson steadied himself, voice stronger now. “I remember his shoes—old, black, the leather cracked and worn. And he had a skull tattoo on his wrist. If I see either again, I’ll know it’s him.” Elena’s eyes narrowed, suspicion sharp as a knife. “You saw both, but not his face?” Jayson’s lips thinned, shame flickering in his expression. “His face was hidden. I wasn’t paying close attention.” Elena’s words cut. “Weren’t paying attention—or didn’t want to?” Jayson’s temper flared. “If I were behind this, I wouldn’t be here risking everything with you two.” Nancy stepped between them, her voice slicing through the tension. “Enough! If Jayson were involved, he wouldn’t be helping us. We need to focus on the man with the black shoes—the one with the skull tattoo.” Her gaze was urgent, scanning both their faces for understanding. Suddenly, the door to Conips let out an eerie, drawn-out creak. The trio froze, Goosebumps rising on their skin. On the cold stone threshold lay a letter—its paper yellowed, the edges curled as though singed by flame. Elena bent to pick it up, her hands shaking. She unfolded it slowly. The words inside were scrawled in a jagged, almost inhuman hand: “We Will Meet Soon.”

  They opened the door with utmost caution, every sense stretched taut. The corridor outside was empty, only a faint, lingering scent of smoke in the air. Nancy’s voice quavered. “What could this mean now?” Elena, voice barely a whisper, replied only to herself, “I’m longing to meet you as well.” Meanwhile, at the hostel, nightfall blanketed the world. Campfire preparations flickered in the darkness, sparks leaping up like tiny devils. Shadows writhed across the clearing, climbing the gnarled trunks of ancient trees. By midday, the trio had returned to Nightmare Hollow. The hostel was eerily silent, and the wind made the trees sway as if they were murmuring secrets to each other—secrets the living were never meant to hear. Nancy grew contemplative, her face shadowed by the firelight. “If we think about it, there’s no real evidence yet. But after all we’ve seen, whoever’s behind this knows the school inside and out. We have to find records of past students.” She glanced at Elena. “But where could those records be?” Elena’s lips curled in a sly, knowing smile. “Principal Winley’s office.”

  Later that afternoon, Nancy and Elena slipped back into the school, moving like ghosts. The sun was high, but inside, cold drafts curled along the corridors. Every step echoed off the stone, and even the dust motes seemed to hover in anticipation. The building felt haunted by more than just memories. They reached Winley’s office. The hallway was deserted; sunlight filtered through tall, grimy windows, casting bars of gold across the floor. They slipped inside, the room filled with the smell of old paper and secrets. The light felt strangely out of place here, as if it were intruding. They hurried to the files, rifling through stacks of faded folders with trembling hands. After several tense minutes, Nancy’s eyes widened as she pulled out a thick, battered file. “Got it,” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper. For the record: at Riverstrom, no student graduates without completing five full years.

  Elena wasted no time. She slipped the file into her bag, and together they prepared to leave. The sound of footsteps—slow, deliberate, impossibly loud in the silence. The door creaked open. Winley stepped inside, eyes narrowed. But Nancy and Elena had already slipped through the window, vanishing into the blinding sunlight and the dense, whispering woods beyond. Outside, Nancy gasped for breath, her chest heaving as she ran. “One day, you’re going to get us both killed. I swear, I’m never coming with you again.” They hurried along the forest path, trees looming above, their branches clawing at the sky. The wind screamed through the leaves, carrying secrets and warnings alike.

  Suddenly, a guttural, inhuman scream tore through the woods—“Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrgghhhhh!”

  Nancy froze, terror etched deep in her face. “I don’t like this… I’m scared…” Before Elena could speak, Nancy’s foot caught on a root, and she tumbled to the mossy ground. “Aaaaaahh! Why does this always happen to me?” she cried, panic ringing in her voice as she scrambled backward, wide-eyed. Elena dropped to her knees beside her, peering into the tangled underbrush. “Wait…what is that?” she whispered, heart pounding in her chest. Half-buried beneath the sodden leaves was a human hand, pale and lifeless, the flesh bruised and crushed beneath a fallen branch. Before either could process the horror, a furious buzzing erupted overhead. With a sickening crack, a massive beehive plummeted from the tree above.

  Nancy’s voice broke with panic. “That’s a beehive! We need to get out of here—now!” The swarm exploded in a black cloud of rage. The girls bolted, dodging branches and leaping over roots, until at last they plunged, breathless, into the frigid waters of Old Borden Lake—their only escape from the relentless bees. Time became meaningless, measured only by the thunder of their hearts and the chill that bit into their bones. When at last the buzzing faded and the danger passed, the girls dragged themselves from the lake, soaked to the skin and shivering violently. Nancy glared at Elena, water streaming from her tangled hair. “Because of you, I’ve had to endure disaster after disaster.” Elena only smirked, a wild gleam in her eye. “Trouble always follows me. You should be used to it by now.” Then her face grew serious, her gaze distant. “But right now… I need to learn the truth about that man—the one whose body was buried in the forest.” As they trudged back toward the hostel, the mystery deepened. The forest whispered secrets only the daring could hear, and the shadows seemed to move of their own accord. Elena felt it deep in her bones: this was merely the beginning.

  She allowed herself a thin smile, her eyes shining in the gloom. “Things are about to get very interesting.”