Chapter 82
- Kaysi -
"What?"
"They're not spirits. Not... whatever that was. Are there real people trapped in the snow?" I asked. "They need our help then."
Evan was already moving. "We need to get them inside immediately before that thing returns, or they will freeze."
"You need to be aware it could be a trap," Baby warned.
"Or it could be exactly what it looks like," I said. "And we're the only ones who can help."
The cold outside still churned like a living thing, so it wasn't the enemy for now. This was a choice, a chance to help someone else rather than being stuck here.
I met Duke's eyes, unaware that my own were blazing with fire and unspoken determination. My body had shifted forward on instinct, every muscle pulled tight with resolve—it spoke for me before I could find the words.
"Open it," he said.
I blinked, startled just as I realized the message my body language was saying.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep your judgment."
"You have free will," he said. "You are allowed to make your own choices. I can only tell you to be safe. Baby and I must stay in here and protect the students, so watch your backs!
The storm outside greeted us with its full force—wind howling, snow cutting sideways like shards of glass. The temperature hit like a slap in our face. But we saw them—blinking headlights barely visible beneath heaps of snow—and a vehicle wedged in a drift.
"It's a family!" I shouted. They started pounding on the window, their breath fogging the glass, their hands frantic after they saw us desperate for help.
Micah was the first to get to them. "We can't leave out here for too much longer!"
Evan and James grabbed the frozen handles, but they wouldn't budge—the doors were sealed shut by the ice and snow that had piled high against them. We shoveled a bit with our hands. Then the boys shoved harder, grunting against the resistance of the door. James kicked at the base, while Evan braced his shoulder and heaved. With a sharp crack, the ice gave way, the door groaning open just enough to let the freezing wind blast through.
Now, save the family, which quickly stumbled out of their vehicle: a mother, father, and two kids, skin blue at the edges, trembling, and barely standing. I ripped my coat off and wrapped it around the little girl without thinking. Baby appeared beside us like a ghost, already unfurling emergency blankets and wrapping them around the others swiftly.
Then the scream came.
A hollow, bone-rattling shriek that pealed through the night. The snow shifted like a wave.
It was back!
The snow demon erupted from the blizzard—a towering figure of ice and shadow. Its body rippled like snowstorms held in human form, the jagged ice of its limbs catching the moonlight with a terrifying, breathtaking beauty. Every reflection danced like fractured glass, sharp and mesmerizing. Its eyes glowed white-blue with endless hunger, but it was the gleam of its crystalline form—cold and almost beautiful—that made the air itself seem to recoil in fear.
Micah stood tall. Her fans glowed as she stepped forward.
"Get them inside!"
She met the demon mid-charge. The clash sent a ripple of power through the field. Silver light cut into frost. Ice shattered. The demon roared.
The demon struck her with a backhanded swing. She spun and slid across the snow but sprang up again, war fans spinning like blades of light. Another strike parried. Another—dodged. Micah did her best to keep her distance so as not to freeze by its magical powers.
The demon launched itself at the family, seconds from shutting the door. Micah interfered just as the demon went low and surged upward. A jagged claw slashed across her chest.
I shouted, "Micah!" As she staggered, something fell.
Her necklace—the silver cross that sealed her inner demon—broke free, and the chain disappeared into the snow somewhere far away.
The moment fractured.
I saw her freeze, not from pain, but from the shift. Her breath caught. Her hands trembled.
Light left her eyes. Terrifying.
The storm hesitated, as if recognizing something worse.
Micah looked up, her pupils flaring like suns behind clouds.
Duke and Baby ushered everyone inside. Evan grabbed my arm, shouting. I stumbled after him, but couldn't tear my eyes away from her.
Micah, on her knees in the snow.
The demon looming over her, smiling.
And the cross that had always kept her safe was gone, buried beneath the ice.
James was by her side in a flash, there to the rescue.
He stepped to Micah's side, his face calm but fierce—steady as the ground beneath a raging storm swirling all around.
No one else moved closer.
I remembered Baby's words: James had been trained for this. Trained to bring her back if the darkness clawed its way out again. And… I think only James truly understood the demon inside Micah. Something about them—something unspoken, deeper than friendship—bonded them in this fight.
James knelt beside Micah, steadying her trembling hands in his. His voice was lowered and calm. "Micah, listen to me," he said quietly. I'm here. You're not alone in this—not now, not ever."
Her eyes flickered wildly—fire dimming, flaring, like a candle caught in the wind.
Micah's body trembled violently, the darkness inside writhing like a living nightmare clawing at her soul. Her breath hitched in ragged gasps as the demon shrieked—a terrible sound, cracking and screams twisted into one. It fought with desperate fury, trying to drag her back into the shadows.
The demon inside hissed—angry, desperate—but James didn't flinch. Instead, he whispered, "The darkness inside you... I know what it feels like to be swallowed by it," James said, his voice cracking slightly but never weakening. "But you're stronger. You've fought it every day."
Micah's hands were trembling as if caught between two worlds. Her breaths came ragged, her lips barely moving. "It's... so loud. I can't... control it."
"Then don't fight it alone," I know what you're fighting," James said softly.
James' grip on her hand was the only anchor she had. "I know the pain. You've been fighting all this time—and I'm not letting you lose. James whispered, squeezing her hands. "Let me in. Let me fight with you."
A flash of red ignited behind her eyes—chaos struggling to break free—but James held his ground, unwavering.
"You don't have to be perfect," he said softly. "You're stronger than who you were before. You are enough.
Tears mixed with snowflakes on Micah's cheeks. Her voice was fragile but steadying. "What if I lose myself?"
James shook his head gently. "You won't because I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever."
The storm raged around them, thunder cracking like the beating of a furious heart. James's own fear flared briefly—a tight knot in his throat—but he swallowed it down.
Micah blinked, her pupils softening, the fiery sun behind the clouds retreating.
"I... I'm scared," she admitted, voice trembling."
"I know," James said. "But fear doesn't have to control you. You can overcome it. I've got your back!"
Her aura flickered between darkness and light.
The snow demon growled, sensing its advantage, surging forward for another strike.