After the Party
It was 09:00 PM on Saturday, June 28, 2025, and the grand mansion of Angela Pierce's mother stood eerily quiet after the housewarming party's chaotic end.
The last guests had departed, their laughter and music fading into the night, leaving the opulent living room with its crystal chandeliers dimmed and the faint scent of spilled wine lingering in the air.
The broken table from Michael's earlier outburst had been removed by the staff, but the tension that had erupted during the evening still clung to the ornate walls, heavy and suffocating.
Angela, still in her striking red dress, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor, moved with purpose. Her makeup was slightly smudged from the night's emotions—anger, humiliation, and now, a deep sense of betrayal.
She cornered Michael near the sweeping marble staircase, the soft glow of the wall sconces casting long shadows across his face. Her eyes, usually warm and inviting, now burned with a volatile mix of hurt and fury as she confronted him about the incident that had shattered the party's fragile peace.
"Michael, what was that back there?" she snapped, her voice echoing in the vast, empty space.
"Throwing that guy like he was nothing, ruining everything - do you even care?
Explain yourself!" Her words hung in the air, sharp as broken glass.
Michael turned to face her, his jaw clenched, his expression taut. Inside, the power of Mistura's "Eyes of Mistura" surged within him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown out his own thoughts.
The dream of Mistura's dominance replayed in his mind, her haunting violet gaze urging him to assert control, to let go. He clenched his fists at his sides, struggling to maintain his composure, to resist the dark urges that whispered for release
His silence only stoked Angela's frustration. She stepped closer, her anger boiling over.
"Say something!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she raised her hand in a sudden attempt to slap him, desperate for any reaction.
In an instant, Michael's reflexes—amplified by Mistura's dark power—took over. He caught her wrist with a speed and strength that startled them both, his grip unyielding. In one swift motion, he pinned her against the wall, his hand briefly tightening around her neck. His eyes flickered with an unnatural violet light, a battle raging within as he fought to suppress the urge to let Mistura's will dominate completely.
For a few tense seconds, the world seemed to hold its breath. Angela's own breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared into his eyes, searching for the man she thought she knew. Then, with a shuddering exhale, Michael released her, stepping back with a shaky breath, his voice low and edged with anger.
"Don't make me hurt you, Angela," he warned, his words laced with a chilling sincerity that made her blood run cold.
Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing heavily on the marble floor. Angela slumped against the wall, her legs trembling, the lingering sensation of his strong grip leaving her weakened and shaking.
Tears welled in her eyes as she watched him disappear into the shadows, the weight of his words and the unnatural power behind them sinking in, leaving her alone in the vast, silent mansion, haunted by what had just transpired.
Angela's Fear and the Ominous Bird Invasion
It was 10:30A.M Monday, June 30, 2025, and the classroom at Haul Academy buzzed with the usual morning lessons.
The air was thick with the familiar scents of chalk dust and fresh paper, mingling with the soft murmur of students taking notes and the teacher's steady voice narrating the history lecture. Angela Pierce sat near the back of the room, her hands tightly clasped on her desk, knuckles white from the tension. But her mind was far from the lesson. Instead, it was trapped in a whirlwind of fear and confusion, a coldness that had settled deep into her bones ever since the confrontation with Michael the night before.
She could still feel the unnatural grip of his hand on her wrist, the strange violet flicker in his eyes that had sent a shiver down her spine, and the angry storm of his departure.
Those moments played over and over in her mind, leaving her trembling quietly. Every time she stole a glance at Michael, who sat a few rows ahead, his posture rigid and tense, her heart would leap with a surge of terror.
What was he becoming?
What dark power was taking hold of him?
The fear was suffocating, like a shadow looming over her.
Rossie Carter, sitting near the front of the classroom, had noticed the change immediately.
Her senses were sharper than most—heightened by her role as a Moonlight Bearer—and she could feel the tension radiating between Angela and Michael.
Rossie watched Angela's furtive glances, the way her friend seemed to shrink into her seat, and the subtle avoidance in Michael's eyes as he kept his gaze low, his hand resting near his pocket where the book was carefully hidden.
Rossie's bracelet pulsed faintly, a warning signal she had learned to trust, signaling that something dark and dangerous was brewing.
Yet she hesitated, unsure how to step in or what to say without making things worse.
The lesson was abruptly interrupted by an eerie sound—a distant flapping that grew louder and louder until it became a chaotic cacophony of bird calls.
...Suddenly, the classroom windows darkened as a massive swarm of birds descended on the school grounds. Crows, pigeons, and strange black-feathered creatures, unfamiliar and unsettling, filled the sky outside. Some of them crashed violently into the glass with sickening thuds, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground. Others wheeled overhead, their shrieks piercing the air, filling the room with a rising panic.
Students screamed, scrambling to duck under desks, clutching their heads as feathers and shards of broken glass scattered everywhere. The teacher shouted for order, trying desperately to calm the chaos, but the noise and fear were overwhelming.
Angela's heart pounded wildly in her chest as she pressed herself down, eyes wide with terror. She couldn't help but glance toward Michael again, wondering if he was affected by this strange invasion—or if he was somehow connected to it.
After what felt like an eternity, the birds finally dispersed, leaving behind an unnatural silence that pressed heavily on everyone's nerves.
Rossie stood up, brushing shards of glass from her hair, and moved cautiously toward the window. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw it—a large, handwritten note smeared across the dusty pane in bold, uneven letters.
The chilling message read:
"We can see you" and "Coming for you soon." The words looked as if they were scrawled hastily in charcoal or even blood, sending a cold shiver through the room.
Fear etched itself onto every student's face, the weight of the message sinking deep into their bones. Angela gripped the edge of her desk, her eyes darting nervously to Michael once more.
The ominous message amplified the threat she already felt from him, twisting it into something far more terrifying. Rossie's heart raced as her mind churned with possibilities.
Who could have done this?
Was it the occult group they had been warned about?
Mia and Tom, whose motives were still unclear? Or was it something far darker—an entity with powers beyond their understanding?
The note was a stark reminder that the danger wasn't just closing in on Angela—it was closing in on all of them. And whatever was coming, it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.