The Witching Hour | ✎

ten

a/n: sorry for the delay — but here it is ;)

ten

🔮— 🔮

Neema generally disliked her calc class. It wasn't that their professor didn't try to make it interesting — they did, but they weren't to blame for the contents of her class. Since she disliked it so much, Neema usually snuck into the classroom seconds before class was due to start, offering her a nice view of the stream of vaguely familiar students going in before her.

Usually, it offered her a window into their conversations, too. Most times, they were discussing whether or not the cafeteria would be serving sourdough bread with the day's lunch, but sometimes their discussions differed.

Today was one of these days, because from Neema's vantage point steps away from the classroom door, she heard the excited whispers of an argument in a nearby wing of the Academy. An argument which had grown increasingly heated, before most students had vacated the hallways.

An argument between none other than Evangeline Bright and Callisto Karr.

Hearing Callie's name mentioned — and the fact that the argument had grown 'heated' — made Neema kick away from the row of lockers she'd leaned against, and leap into a sprint down the hallway. Callie was usually good at keeping her temper under control, but when she got angry past the point of caring whether or not onlookers were there to witness it ...

Something's off, Neema thought, sneakers skidding against the floors as she rounded another corner. Her heart was thudding loudly by this point, punctuated by the hard hits of her bag which was swinging rhythmically into the side of her ribs as she rounded another hallway corner.

In her half-panicked state, she wrestled her phone out of her pocket, shooting off a text to Holden:

Callie fighting Bright — East Wing. Get ur ass there.

She hoped to Hell he hadn't forgotten to charge his phone. With that, Neema heaved some needed air into her lungs and shot around the final bend of the hallway, which landed her ass in a perfect vantage point to see the two people facing off further down.

The person alight with an almost otherworldly was none other than Evangeline — with wings fully out, pale eyes blazing at the other person in the hallway. And the other person, the person Neema knew was Callie ...

It didn't resemble her friend in the least. No, the black veins stark against her skin were what set her apart, as did the fully dark, empty eyes she had trained on Evangeline. Neema's eyes shot to Callie's arm, where her cardigan was shoved up, exposing the angry red line of a wound — a wound which was bleeding now, dripping drops of blood onto the Academy floors.

That's not Callie, Neema thought, watching the dark flicker and ripple around Callie's shape. And she knew, a second later, just what'd happened —

Callie had gone to the Dark Realms. She'd bargained with a demon — and she'd bargained for more than she could handle. Neema felt something sad slither its way across her heart, squeezing hard. Though her pulse had calmed down significantly from her mad rush there, she felt a sudden sweat coat the back of her neck as she watched the situation playing out in the hallway.

She'd have to stop it — before someone passed and saw them, or worse, before Callie beat Evangeline hard enough to send the angel sprawling into the Dark Realms.

"Callie —" Neema started, moving forward, steps slow and measured. Those dark, soulless eyes swept to Neema, " — you have to regain control."

"Why?" The question rumbled from her throat, though not in a voice Neema knew. She swallowed, hard, fastened calm eyes on Callie's face.