Phantom's Performance

Chapter 45

Alastor's Pov

The air in the hotel had turned thick, suffocating. It wasn't just the stale, heavy scent of sulfur that clung to everything in Hell; it was something deeper. Something unnatural. Even the radio waves that used to hum with light static now carried a sinister undertone, like a low growl lurking just beneath the surface.

I could feel it building—the unease, the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind. We were running out of time, and the riddles weren't helping. They were coming faster now, more relentless. Each one is more cryptic than the last, each one pulling us deeper into the labyrinth of Y/n's mind.

And the worst part? Y/n wasn't here. We couldn't stop her, couldn't reach her. But the riddles... the riddles were her voice, haunting us with every breath.

"Alastor." Charlie's voice broke through the silence, trembling. "Do you hear that?"

I turned, listening. There it was again—another riddle crackling through the speakers, the voice more malicious than ever. Mocking us.

"The book of shadows lies with she,
Her heart consumed by misery.
The devil's crown, the lover's hand,
Will fail to stop the chaos planned."

Lucifer tensed beside me, his face ashen. "The book. She has it. We were right."

My hands clenched into fists. The realization was a cold slap to the face. Y/n had the book. The very thing we'd been searching for, chasing through these riddles, was already in her grasp. And we had no idea how long she'd had it or what she intended to do with it.

"Of course she does," I muttered, my voice dripping with frustration. "It's been under our noses the whole time."

Charlie stepped closer, her face pale with worry. "But why didn't we see it? We were there... we were just there, and we didn't—"

"We didn't look," Lucifer interrupted, his tone grim. "Because we didn't think she'd already have it."

The radio crackled again, louder this time, as though the voice was growing impatient with us.

"Her rage will rise, her fury spread,
For you have let her heart turn dead.
Now shadows grow, her plan in sight,
The book will bring eternal night."

There was something deeply wrong with the voice. It wasn't just a riddle anymore; it felt alive, like it was feeding off our fear. The words wrapped around us like a noose, tightening with every breath.

"We're too late," Charlie whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes were wide, frantic. "We're too late to stop her."

"No." I shook my head, though the pit of dread in my stomach told me she might be right. "We're not too late. We still have time."

"How much time?" Lucifer's voice was cold, but beneath it, I could hear the cracks of fear creeping in. "How long before the book consumes her entirely? Before she uses it for whatever twisted plan she's concocted?"

Another riddle flared to life, the voice harsh and biting.

"The time is nigh, the end is near,
Her soul will fall, consumed by fear.
But if the book you dare to take,
Beware the price, for all will break."

The weight of those words settled over us like a shroud. The price. We hadn't considered the price. Taking the book from Y/n wasn't just about stopping her—it was about facing whatever dark power she'd unleashed.