The Forgotten Ritual: "Cursed Academy"

Chapter 7: A Dangerous Plan

Weeb POV:

The sharp scent of lemon and sweet orange filled the air as I blinked awake, my senses coming alive to a nightmare. I was strapped to a cold metal table, my limbs bound tight, and my head spun, struggling to piece together where I was. The room had the sterile feel of a lab, but it was too dark to make out much. Only the faint outline of someone stood at the far end of the room.

A man in surgical gear.

I strained to see more, catching a glimpse of his reflection in a nearby mirror - wild eyes, filled with a twisted frenzy. A chill ran through me as I realized the awful truth. This was the man who had abducted me from the library. The one they called "The Stalker."

Suddenly, a fluorescent light buzzed to life above me, casting harsh shadows on the walls.

"My little plaything is awake," the Stalker said with a smirk, holding up a sharp knife. The glint of the blade sent waves of terror crashing over me.

"Let me go," I demanded, tugging at the straps that held me down, struggling against the leather binds with everything I had.

He ignored my plea, licking the blade, a grotesque act that left his own blood smeared across it. Slowly, he stepped closer, a fevered look in his eyes. "Look at you, all beautiful and ready to be torn apart for my precious Hanako." He raised his arms like he was offering me up to some invisible force.

My mind raced. Hanako? Who was that? "I-I just want to leave," I whispered, my voice cracking as tears spilled from my eyes.

The Stalker's gaze shifted, catching sight of my tears. He reached out, brushing his fingers against my cheek, smearing the wetness between his fingers. "Fear..." he muttered, his voice low, filled with an unsettling delight. "Ah, it's been so long since I've tasted this."

He set the knife down, momentarily. But then, with slow, deliberate movements, he lifted the hem of my shirt just enough to expose my stomach. Panic surged through me as he picked up a small, jagged saw. His eyes met mine, a malicious grin twisting his lips.

"Little warning," he taunted, "this will hurt... and it's not going to be okay."

The saw roared to life, its blade whirring menacingly as he hovered it above my skin, the cold metal inches away from making contact. I braced myself, heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst-

But then, a faint sound cut through the room. Crying. Distant, but unmistakable. It echoed down the hall, growing louder.

The Stalker froze, his expression darkening. Slowly, he switched off the saw, his attention shifting to the sound.

Another tear slipped down my cheek as he picked up his knife again, his eyes gleaming with a sick anticipation. "Another lost lamb," he whispered to himself, "coming to their savior."

Without another word, he turned and left the room, the echo of his footsteps disappearing into the distance.

I yanked at the straps with everything I had, thrashing and jerking my body in every direction. This wasn't how I was going to die. No way. I wasn't about to let some deranged lunatic end me like this. My wrists burned against the leather, but I didn't care-I had to get free.

Then, the distant sounds of a struggle reached my ears. Shouts, grunts, the unmistakable clash of a fight.

Suddenly, the Stalker staggered backward into the room, stumbling as if trying to escape something. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the gleam of an axe buried deep in his chest. His breaths were ragged, wheezing as blood soaked through his surgical gown. He groaned, collapsing against a cabinet, his body crumpling beneath him.