𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃
[DOWN FOR REWRITING]
❝You're the key to an apocalypse Krystal. You were meant to kill us.❞
What do you do when you find out that your whole identity is a lie?
That you're also somehow the loophole to an apocalypse?
T...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN | ❝Night Of The Evil❞
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THERE WAS NOT a single cloud in the sky to camouflage the eerie glimmering of the moon. The few street lamps bordering the narrow lane, blinked furiously - barely illuminating the pathway. The air was blanketed with an enormous dense silence, making me wonder if I had gone deaf for a minute. The trees waved their bodies hastily – almost as if grieving for an eternal loss, as the sour winds fluttered past them.
None of us spoke a single word as we treaded through the dirt-filled path quickly – the dry leaves crunching underneath our feet. Christina and I were walking at the same pace while Carter was a few steps ahead of us, his body abnormally rigid with tension.
Cameron, on the other hand, trailed behind us, his face covered by a dark grim shadow, despite the moon illuminating the whole path. He did not even try to look at me, or anyone for that matter, since he got down from his bike.
Suddenly, Carter halted in his steps – causing me to walk straight into him.
I was about to curse at him when my eyes fell on the grandiose house in front of me. The peach-colored walls and the beautiful porch being illuminated by the string lights that were intricately curled around the wooden pillars. The glass windows were shut tightly as the sleek black surface glinted in the moonlight – making the house look like having a glow of its own.
My breath hitched when I realized whose house this was.
Taylor and Erik's.
Surprisingly enough, instead of dead bodies rotting around, the porch was decorated with beautiful and vibrant flowers that had an angelic glow emanating from it. A wooden nameplate was hanging on one of its walls – edges splintered and scraped off.
If Taylor wasn't a crazy vampire, or his brother a witch, I might have actually liked staying in this house.
But not now.
Through my periphery, I could see Christina's bright and frantic brown eyes boring into the side of my head.
The heaviness in the pit of my stomach had only intensified. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and my palms felt impossibly cold. Dread coiled within me and a part of me whispered that it was for something else. Something unknown. Something equally disastrous.
So, ignoring the foreboding feeling, I set out my left foot on the cold, wooden surface of the porch, until I felt warm, large fingers curling around my wrist – preventing me to move forward.
I turned around to find Carter shaking his head at me. His blue eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched shut. His jet black hair shined silver under the glow of the moon.
He scrunched up his nose, his eyes still assessing the dark green front door – almost as if expecting a jump-scare.
"What?" I asked as I tried to free my wrist from his grasp, only to have it more strengthened.
