Witches of Mellgrah

Returning back with her friends, a creature darting across the alley caught Stella's attention. She would've recognized those spots anywhere. It was her favourite stray cat.

Concerned about it being so frightened by something, Stella excused herself from her friends and went after it.

"Lawrence? Here, kitty, kitty…"

It was the name she had given it after secretly adopting the cat. Pets weren't allowed in the dormitories, but no one could stop Stella from taking care of it outside. She grew fond of this especially skittish creature that seemed to make her the only exception among humans and allowed her to approach it.

Stella followed the cat across the neighbourhood. She was worried about it, now especially. Cats would often vanish during the night, never to be seen again. Since she was very fond of Lawrence, she didn't want to let anything happen to him.

Chasing the cat led her quite far away, towards the large mansion. Despite being nestled within the bustling town, the mansion always appeared gloomy and lonesome, protected by its tall, unwelcoming sharp fence. It was like a fortress within a fortress, an off-limits part of the town, constantly guarded from intruders.

This was the residence of the Headmistress. Given her high status and increasing importance in the land of Mellgrah, tight security was essential. The mansion seemed distant, like a celebrity's house — a large dwelling for few, with an ecosystem of its own.

The mansion was far removed from what Stella knew in her previous life. It's no surprise she felt hesitant to enter, even without the imposing restrictions. However, she saw Lawrence had entered, climbing the mansion's backside portico overgrown with vines. The cat was notorious for climbing to heights from which it couldn't descend.

'No one will notice if I just go in quickly and get him.'

Stella, filled with anxiety, climbed the towering fence to reach the quiet, neglected back of the mansion. Meanwhile, Lawrence ventured further. Fortunately, Stella was a competent and fearless climber, having spent most of her childhood scaling trees and various structures on her family farm.

She carefully ascended the portico roof, edging her way towards the wall draped in a tapestry of vines and foliage. She cautiously picked her steps, wary of vegetation that could prove to be a weak anchor. Her goal was the upper windows, one of which served as Lawrence's perch.

Stella was pushing her limits, having never climbed this high on a vertical wall before. There were few spots to leverage her body and she began to question how she would manage to carry the cat back down. After all, she needed all her limbs just to support herself.

"It's dangerous… Come with me. There are no longer many who will protect us," she whispered.

Upon reaching her feline companion, Stella found Lawrence to be uncooperative. He was rubbing himself against the stone wall and acting cute, causing Stella's anxiety to increase for fear of him slipping and falling.

Stella was extremely cautious when attempting to reach Lawrence. She was not just concerned about the cat getting injured, but also about getting caught herself. There was a faint light coming from the next window further away, and she could now even hear faint voices.

"It's getting rapidly worse… the cause…" The voice resembled the one of the headmistress. "…free for the picking… too far… can't travel… Castra… I could've used it."

Unable to resist her curiosity, Stella leaned in to hear better. However, she still couldn't discern who the headmistress was speaking with or what they were discussing.

"Get four. Whoever you can find as long as they are not on my list of prospects… quickly."

"As you wish."

Finally, upon hearing a raspy male voice, Stella realized he was standing much closer to the window than she had anticipated. This realization filled her with panic.

"Come, Lawrence. Quick," she hurriedly whispered at the cat as she grabbed it.

Stella was becoming rapidly aware she wasn't safe outside in these dark areas as night had already fallen. Losing her patience, she pulled the cat toward herself. The cat, in response, clawed at the stone windowsill out of protest and fear.

She managed to pull it away, but the cat retaliated by clawing her skin. She stifled a cry of pain, knowing any noise could give her away. But descending with a terrified, squirming cat proved impossible. Soon, the cat decided to escape, shaking Stella off and jumping down.

Stella gasped as she watched the cat tumble down, clumsily landing before it darted away as if on fire. She was left in pain and defeat. The cat had escaped quickly, but Stella feared it might have been injured in the fall. There was no hope of finding it again that night. Lawrence would have to wait until morning.

Forced to give up, Stella was on her way back to the dormitory.

"Stupid. Stupid."

Stella shook her head while mumbling. She had been scratched badly by the cat and it was really starting to sting.

To return as quickly as possible, she took a shortcut through some less frequented alleys. She had traversed them many times before, enough to navigate them with her eyes closed.

One of the lights must have gone out, which was why it seemed darker than usual. Stella hurried towards the light from the adjacent street. However, a shadow suddenly blocked her narrow path.

The shadowy figure was unmistakably a man, although on a slightly shorter side. That was all she could discern in the dimly lit alley.

'A guard?'

It couldn't be. A guard would've said something after noticing a student outside so late. This figure seemed to stand still and wait for her. But it had to be a guard on patrol. Who else would be outside in the night? And why was she so scared?

Despite her rationalization, Stella's gut feeling was telling her something was very wrong.

"I see you're returning from your little adventure," the figure spoke in a raspy voice.

Stella was startled when he suddenly addressed her. She noticed him having an unusual accent, somewhat exaggerated, foreign. Hearing him stopped in her tracks. Guards wouldn't talk to her in that tone.

"Pity about the cat, but you won't have to worry for long."

At her instinct's command, Stella pivoted and broke into a run. The figure was still far away. She can still make it to the main path. But she had only made a couple of steps before something yanked her back and everything turned black.

First, she became aware of the pulsating pain and ringing in her head. Then, she realized she was lying on a cold stone floor. It was dark, but she was sure she was no longer outside. 

Attempting to decipher her surroundings, Stella realized she wasn't alone. Three other students lay on the floor before her in the round, windowless room. Its vaulted ceiling and heavy buttresses cast deep shadows, making it hard to locate the exit. The stagnant, chilly air suggested they were in an underground cellar or a crypt of sorts.

However, the room had a distinctive scent. Bronze bowls filled with smouldering incense littered the floor, emitting an unusual sweet smell that seemed to envelop her. Mixed with it was the harsh scent of something akin to chlorine bleach. But beneath these odours, there was masked a more concerning smell. Though Stella couldn't identify it, the scent was repulsing and alarming.

Stella was numb from the cold. She could barely feel her fingertips and toes, which she knew wasn't normal. A disconcerting chill permeated her body, and she couldn't identify its source.

She felt something cold against her skin and reached to touch it. She was puzzled to discover a thin gold chain tightly coiled around her neck. Under normal circumstances, she could break such a delicate chain with ease, but her numbness had delayed her awareness of it.

Following the chain's other end with her eyes, she saw it led to the room's centre. From this vantage point, she noticed other students in a similar state — unconscious on the floor, each with a thin gold chain around their necks.

A soft moan signalled that one of the students was regaining consciousness. However, Stella froze in fear when she noticed something move in the shadows behind them. As she tried to sound a warning, a hand abruptly grabbed her jaw, forcing her to turn her head away.

Suddenly face-to-face with an unfamiliar man, Stella instinctively knew he was from the alley. His closeness was unsettling. His dark, bulging eyes studied her, while his sharp features and hollowed cheeks concealed his age. His youthful appearance contrasted with his ancient gaze. When she noticed the canines beneath his grin, everything clicked.

She wanted to scream, but his firm grip held her jaw shut, reducing her cry to a muffled whimper. His strength was overwhelming and painful.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed similar figures emerging from the shadows, each one approaching a student. However, she couldn't observe further as the man lifted her effortlessly, her limp legs dangling below like decorations.

Stella was in a state of delirium. Her vision was blurry, and she was dazed, making it difficult to comprehend the situation. She was aware of her pain but couldn't identify its source or muster the strength to resist.

As he held her immobilized, he brushed his fingers through her hair, severing a lock with his sharp nail. The hair fell into an incense-filled brazier and ignited, filling the room with the pungent smell of burning hair. Others, presumably, were experiencing a similar fate.

Then, she noticed another figure. A woman in a long black gown held the ends of a golden chain binding all four students, with an orb in her other hand. Had she been there all along?

'The… headmistress?'

An idiotic rush of hope came over Stella as if she laid her eyes on her saviour. But the woman paid her no mind. She held on tight to the golden threads and began chanting softly in an unfamiliar language.

Stella could feel the man's breath as he held her tightly from behind, tilting her head to the side. It almost felt like a lover preparing to plant an affectionate kiss on her neck. But instead, the kiss was sharp and painful. He had no care for her skin; it was merely an obstacle to what he desired beneath. So, his fangs ripped into it viciously.

Stella grew weaker and more lethargic. The soft chant around her started to sound increasingly like a lullaby.

'I know… this is all just a dream.'

No longer feeling her body, she didn't even realize she was back on the cold floor, sticking to it in the pool of her own blood. Her eyes were looking up, toward the looming figure of a woman whose face was obscured by the shadows.

"Don't worry, sweetie. It will be over soon," the Headmistress's calming tone pierced through the darkness that was taking her.

It was the last thing Stella ever heard.