Power. It wasn't just about strength or speed—it was about control. And Alex was learning that necromancy was far more than just draining the dead.
At first, his abilities had felt like a curse, an endless hunger clawing at his insides. But now, as he grew stronger, he realized it was a gift. One that made him dangerous.
He could pull energy from the dead, fueling his body beyond its natural limits. Broken bones? Torn muscles? They healed in seconds when he siphoned enough life force. But there was more—much more.
If he focused, he could feel the essence of the creatures he drained. It lingered—raw and restless, waiting for his command. The first time he tried to control a corpse, it had been an accident. Now, it was intentional.
A twitch of his fingers, a whisper of willpower, and the dead answered him. Not like mindless puppets, no, they carried fragments of their former selves. Their instincts, their hunger. And Alex? He was learning to shape that hunger into a weapon.
He hadn't told anyone. Not even Peter or Elizabeth. This dark power was his alone.
And the strangest part? The more he used it, the easier it became.
His new golden dagger hummed with magic, sharp enough to cut through bone. But Alex barely needed it. Why waste energy swinging a blade when the dead could fight for him?
One night ago, he had tested his limits. In the depths of a portal, surrounded by monsters, he had done something new—something terrifying. He had reanimated three dead creatures at once, binding them to his will. For the first time, it felt like he wasn't just surviving.
He was in control.
But power always came at a price. And Alex could feel it—the edge of something darker lurking beneath his strength. Each time he pulled energy from the dead, a piece of that darkness pulled back. What would happen if he crossed the line?
He didn't know.
But part of him wanted to find out.
And tonight, he would go to a party, pretend to be normal, and act like he wasn't becoming something else entirely.
Because one thing was clear—whatever he was turning into, there was no going back.
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Music pulsed through the air, a steady, heart-thumping rhythm that echoed across the gymnasium. The once dull, fluorescent-lit space had been transformed—streamers twisted from the ceiling, colorful lights flashed along the walls, and the scent of sugary drinks and fried snacks hung heavy.
Laughter and chatter filled the room as students swayed on the dance floor, their exhaustion from the exams melting away under the promise of a carefree night.
Alex leaned against the wall near the refreshments table, half-listening as Peter recounted some wild story about how he "definitely" failed his math exam.
"I'm telling you," Peter said, waving a soda can for emphasis, "if I get even a passing grade, it'll be a miracle."
Alex smirked faintly. "You say that every time, and somehow you always pull through."
"That's because I'm charming," Peter shot back, flashing a grin. His fiery personality matched the warmth that flickered beneath his skin—something only Alex knew was more than just metaphorical.
Across the room, Elizabeth stood alone, arms crossed. Her frosty demeanor hadn't thawed, even with the music and energy buzzing around her. She had refused to engage with either of them since the exams ended but her eyes lingered on Alex longer than she'd probably admit.
"You should talk to her," Peter nudged Alex.
"She's fine," Alex replied, though part of him wondered if their fragile alliance would ever smooth out.
Before Peter could tease him, the music shifted to a slower tempo, and a fresh wave of students flooded the dance floor. For a moment, it felt almost normal, like they were just teenagers enjoying a night of freedom.
But Alex knew better. Nothing in his life stayed normal for long.
And soon enough, the cracks began to show.
It happened without warning.
One second, the lights bathed the gym in warm, multicolored hues. The next second, they flickered, sputtered, then plunged the entire room into darkness.
A murmur of confusion rippled through the crowd. Someone laughed nervously. Then came the sound of footsteps. Sharp, deliberate.
Alex's senses flared, and his body tensed. This wasn't a prank. Something was wrong.
The lights snapped back on, flooding the room with a cold, blinding glow. But the laughter and music were gone.
And at the center of the gym, standing like a shadow out of place, was Teacher Martin.
Beside him stood five masked figures, their faces obscured by sleek black hoods. They moved like professionals, they were silent, dangerous, and utterly out of place at a high school party.
Gasps and screams broke out as panic surged through the crowd. Students scrambled toward the exits, but the doors slammed shut on their own, locking everyone inside.
Teacher Martin's usual tired expression was gone, replaced by something far colder. He scanned the room intensely, and when his gaze landed on Alex, a chilling smile curved his lips.
"I always knew you were hiding something, Alex," he said calmly. "Tonight, I finally get to see what it is."
Without another word, he lifted his hand and the masked figures sprang into action.
Alex barely had time to react before the first attacker lunged at him. He twisted away, narrowly avoiding a blade aimed at his ribs. In a blur, he delivered a sharp punch to the figure's side, sending them sprawling.
"Alex!" Peter's voice rang out as flames erupted from his palms, casting an orange glow across the room. With a roar, he sent a blast of fire toward two of the masked figures. "You didn't think I'd let you fight alone, did you?"
Across the gym, Elizabeth's hands shimmered with frost as jagged spikes of ice shot from her fingertips, pinning another attacker to the wall. "I'm only helping because I hate being targeted," she snapped, her voice sharp despite the tension.
But their combined strength wasn't enough to stop what came next.
Teacher Martin tilted his head slightly. "Focus on those two," he instructed his men, his tone smooth and unyielding. "Alex is mine."
The masked figures turned their attention toward Peter and Elisabeth, splitting off to engage them in a battle of fire and ice.
Alex barely registered their fight before Teacher Martin closed the distance between them.
"You hide so much behind that quiet demeanor," Martin mused, his voice a low hum. "But you can't hide from me, not when I can hear everything."
The moment their eyes locked, a strange pressure crashed into Alex's mind. Memories—his hunts in the portals, the way he drained energy from the dead, flashed across his thoughts, dragged into the open.
Mind-reading.
Alex gritted his teeth, fighting to keep control. "Stay out of my head you bastard," he growled.
Martin smiled faintly. "Why? Afraid of what I'll find?"
Alex struck fast, his fists moving like shadows. But Martin anticipated every move, weaving around his attacks with ease. It was like fighting someone who already knew his every thought.
Every punch missed. Every counter failed.
"You're powerful," Martin admitted, his voice smooth. "But I know you're holding back. Why?"
Alex refused to answer. He couldn't reveal his necromancy, not yet. If anyone found out the full extent of his powers, everything he had built would come crashing down.
He needed to end this, as fast as possible.
Shutting out the invasive touch in his mind, Alex feigned a stumble. Martin moved in for the strike and that was when Alex struck back. His fist slammed into Martin's ribs with enough force to send him skidding backward.
For a moment, the mind-reading wavered.
Alex seized the opening. With a swift motion, he drew the golden dagger from his belt, its blade gleaming with magic. He slashed toward Martin, forcing the teacher on the defensive.
"You're stronger than I expected," Martin admitted. "But you can't win alone."
As if on cue, a cold voice rang out from the entrance.
"Good thing he's not alone anymore."
Alex froze. He knew that voice.
Lilac.
She stepped into the gym, her silver hair catching the light as she twirled her scythe with deadly grace. Her eyes, bright and unreadable, locked onto Alex with chilling amusement.
"Let's finish this," she said, her tone far too eager.
Martin smiled approvingly. "You're just in time."
Alex's heart pounded in his chest. With Martin's mind-reading and Lilac's raw power, the odds had just gotten a lot worse.
And there was no telling how much longer he could keep his true power a secret.