After the Hogwarts War, your parents became worried about you and decided that staying with your father was better than attending Hogwarts for another year.
What awaits you in Beacon Hills, where you only spend your summer breaks? Can you achieve yo...
Isaac slowly woke up in a dimly lit motel room, feeling a bit confused. The motel room wasn't the best place to rest, with peeling wallpaper and a flickering lamp that created eerie shadows. As he looked around, he realized he was alone.
Suddenly, he heard his father's voice echoing through the room. It was forceful and demanding, just like it used to be. "Isaac, I need a wrench!" it called out, carrying all the hurtful words and cruel commands from the past.
Isaac's mind raced, and his father's voice became more hurtful, almost like a venomous whisper. "You idiot! Do you even know the difference between these two wrenches?" The words hit him hard, reminding him of all the times his father had put him down and made him feel small.
Trying to cope with the painful memories, Isaac's mind played tricks on him. He found himself speaking in two different voices. It was a way for him to separate himself from his father's harsh words and create some distance.
But the hallucination grew more twisted. "Get the chains and go into the freezer!" his father's voice commanded with a cruel satisfaction. The motel room seemed to close in on him, creating a suffocating atmosphere of fear and dread.
Desperate to escape the torment, Isaac grabbed a nearby pillow and covered his ears, hoping to drown out the hallucinated voice of his abusive father. He squeezed his eyes shut, seeking solace in the darkness behind his eyelids, yearning for this nightmare to end.
When Isaac finally mustered the courage to open his eyes, the motel room had transformed into a chilling reality. He found himself lying inside a freezing chamber, surrounded by icy coldness that matched the fear gripping his heart.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A scream of terror burst from his lips, echoing within the frozen space, as he confronted the haunting hallucination of his deceased father, a constant reminder of the torment that still lingered, even in death.
He heard a voice that cut through the chaos like a lifeline. It was Clara's voice, filled with concern and genuine care, calling out his name.
"Isaac? Are you alright?"
Clara's voice carried a gentle urgency. The sound of her voice stirred something within him, breaking through the walls of his torment.
Clara's voice resonated with a sincerity that touched Isaac's wounded soul. Tears welled up in Isaac's eyes as he managed to mutter, "Clara... I... I don't know what's happening." His voice trembled with vulnerability and desperation, seeking comfort and solace in her presence.
"It's alright. I'm here. You're safe now." She said as she hugged him gently. Isaac clung to Clara's voice as an anchor, allowing her words to treat the darkness that consumed his mind. It was as if her presence filled him with a newfound strength, reminding him that he was not defined by his hallucinations.
But Clara's worries began to grow. What if Isaac was experiencing the same fate as those who had taken their own lives? She felt consumed by these thoughts, her anxiety growing stronger. What steps could she take? Her concerns were devouring her from within.
●●●
As Clara left to check on Isaac, you felt a restless urge to investigate deeper into the mysteries of the motel. Determined to uncover the truth, you made your way through the dimly lit corridors, guided by your curiosity.
With each step, the air seemed to grow heavier, an unspoken tension clinging to the atmosphere. You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, an unsettling presence lurking just beyond your line of sight.
You arrived at the entrance of the kitchen, hesitating for a moment before pushing open the creaky door. Your gaze wandered around to see something suspicious.
But then, something caught your attention-a painting hanging on the wall, a serene landscape. Its subjects were frozen in time, forever captured within the strokes of the artist's brush. Yet, as you continued your inspection, a sense of unease crept over you.
You couldn't shake the feeling that the eyes of one particular figure in the painting were following your every move. A chill ran down your spine, causing you to turn your head sharply towards it. Could it be a wizard's portrait?
You stared intently at the painted eyes, searching for any sign of malice or hidden intent. But as your gaze met the painted gaze, there was nothing suspicious-just a beautifully rendered landscape and an innocuous portrayal of life frozen in art.
You whispered to yourself "It must be my imagination playing tricks on me. This place has an eerie atmosphere, and my mind is likely playing into the shadows. But still, something feels off."
With a determined shake of your head, you redirected your focus to the task at hand. Bet after turning around and heading to the exit, you remembered something. That portrait, it belonged to someone you knew. Realizing that made you freeze in your place. It can't be.
"Did you ever heard the idiom; Curiosity kills the cat."
●●●
Derek shifted uncomfortably as he sat on the edge of the bed, his wounds aching. Mrs. Blake, crouched before him, her eyes fixated on his chest. In her hands, she held a makeshift cloth, unable to find proper bandages or a first aid kit in the chaos of the moment.
"You shouldn't be here," Derek muttered "You don't know me or anything about me." Apparently, he has forgotten that he was the one who rocked up at her car half-dead.
"Maybe I have a feeling about you." she said mysteriously.
He felt a sense of unease, wondering what she meant by having a feeling about him. Just hoped it wasn't the way Kate Argent felt (or didn't feel) about him.
"It shouldn't be a good one. Everyone around me-everyone gets hurt." He had the image of a certain girl he hurt recently in his mind.
"I've been hurt before." she said.
"Not like this." Derek stated. Starting to get annoyed by this clingy woman. Ms Blake didn't seem to care so she tried to approach him with little movements. Derek's annoyance grew as Ms. Blake persisted in her clinginess. He felt increasingly frustrated, wanting her to understand that he didn't welcome her presence.
Her attempts to get closer only get on his nerves, as he longed for space. Despite his clear signals of discomfort, she seemed oblivious, and his irritation grew with each passing moment.
He wished he were with Y/N right now. Not knowing what kind of danger she's in all by herself.
