The Anchored

CHAPTER 2 || Phantom

CHAPTER 2 || Phantom

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I took a seat in the back of the classroom, next to a window. I settled down and brought out a small sketch pad. I was never an artist, but I liked doodling fantasy places I dreamed of traveling or teleporting to. Sometimes I dreamed of horror places, too – places from my nightmares. I had a lot of those – nightmares, I mean. They didn't always make sense to me.

My imagination led my pencil across the paper and sketched a simple circle onto the drawing pad. I surrounded the circle with bars, like the kind you would find in penitentiaries. In the centre was the dark silhouette of a man, angling his face upwards and screaming. This was the weird part: the man had a shadow for a face, and the only part of his head that was visible was his wild black hair and screeching mouth filled with pointy, monstrous teeth.

I studied the drawing and tried to make sense of the nightmare, but to no avail. My dreams were usually nonsensical and strange, as are most fantasies conjured by the mind.

"Your in my spot," said a cold, emotionless voice.

I looked up and locked gazes with a dark-haired boy blessed with soul-shaking emerald green eyes. I recognized him as Kace Moretti – Luke had told me about him during the little tour he'd given me. "Hi, I'm Elora."

"I know," was all he said. His abnormal eyes were gazing not at me but at something above my shoulder. When I looked back to see what he was staring at, I was met with blank nothingness. "My friends told me about you."

There was something odd about this boy: he had a quiet, detached air to him, almost as if he belonged to another world. His emo-cut hair was falling into his eyes – not that he seemed to care. Mysterious symbols and seemingly meaningless doodles were covering him arms and hands in black pen ink. There were some words, too:

The King shall not be ended by any mortal but those prophesied.

Scars bring forth the Circle.

Poisonous godly blood to the tainted flesh of shadow-hearted demons.

NEVER LEAVE THE CIRCLE.

CANNOT EVER LEAVE.

I frowned at those words – they appeared to be like prophecies of some sort – but redirected my gaze to Kace's face. "Your friends?" I questioned casually.

He fixed me with a haunting look. "Those imprisoned in their consciousness." After he spoke those words, something flickered next to him. I focused my eyes on the area surrounding him, and in a small fraction of a second, an image appeared. Tilted heads and hollow eyes. Bloody mouths and decayed flesh. Mouths frozen in silent screams, blood dripping from their hovering feet, endless black holes for eyes –

I gasped and reeled back in shock and terror. "What–"

"You can see them, too," he asserted, his voice monotonous. "I supposed the blood of a goddess does that to you." He inclined his head downwards and stared at my drawing. A sliver of expression crossed his eyes — recognition, surprise maybe? — and he opened his mouth to speak again. "Nice drawing."

"Thanks," I said, still a little shaken by what I'd seen. I wasn't used to seeing ghosts. "Oh! I was in your seat, right?" I started to stand up. "I'll just — move over here — sorry..." I trailed off as I stumbled over the chair before landing in the seat next to him. Jesus Christ. Why was I always humiliating myself?

Kace kept watching me with no amusement whatsoever, before returning his attention to my drawing. He seemed oddly fascinated by it.

I struggled to find ways to break the ice, but I was at a loss for words. Thankfully, I was saved the effort when the teacher entered the class.