Chapter 12 : The Secret Society

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Charlotte's dreams were a kaleidoscope of unsettling images-an abandoned chapel, dark corridors, and whispers that called her name

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Charlotte's dreams were a kaleidoscope of unsettling images-an abandoned chapel, dark corridors, and whispers that called her name. She awoke suddenly, drenched in sweat, her heart racing. The clock on her nightstand read 2:33 AM. A cold draft whispered through the room, as though the night itself was alive and watching her.

She sat up, trying to shake off the remnants of her dream. "I need to clear my head," she murmured, but something stronger pulled her out of bed-an inexplicable urge that led her to the library.

Barefoot and silent, Charlotte moved through the darkened halls of Ravenstone. The rain outside tapped softly against the windows, a rhythmic lullaby that contrasted with the erratic beating of her heart. She didn't know why she was drawn to the library, but her feet moved as if they had a mind of their own.

The library's grand doors creaked as she pushed them open. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old paper and leather. The moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the room. She made her way to the back, where a section of the library was roped off, a sign warning students to keep out.

"Why am I here?" she whispered, fingers brushing against the velvet rope. The logical part of her screamed to turn back, but curiosity, dark and enticing, urged her forward.

She slipped under the rope, her breath hitching as she ventured into the forbidden section. Dust motes danced in the slivers of moonlight, and the floorboards creaked under her weight. In the farthest corner, she found a small, hidden alcove, almost as if it had been waiting for her.

Charlotte's hand hovered over a stack of old books, one in particular catching her eye. Its cover was ancient, the leather worn and cracked, with a title in a language she didn't recognize. "What are you?" she wondered aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she opened the book, a shiver ran down her spine. The pages were filled with cryptic symbols, eerie sketches, and descriptions of rituals performed in the dead of night. Her breath quickened as she read about a secret society that once ruled Ravenstone from the shadows.

"The Shadow Curse..." she read aloud, her voice trembling. The society was said to possess knowledge that could alter reality, bend the will of others, and even cheat death. But her heart nearly stopped when she read the next line: Thirty years ago, seventeen members of the society were found dead-brutally murdered in an abandoned chapel. The incident was covered up as a mass suicide, and the society was banned.

Her blood ran cold. Ravenstone had hidden this dark history, but why?

Suddenly, a noise broke her concentration-the soft sound of footsteps approaching.

Heart pounding, Charlotte quickly shut the book and tried to hide it behind her. The footsteps grew closer until a familiar figure stepped into view-Margaret Bankole, her presence as commanding as ever.

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