Chapter 8 ROOM 100.

Chapter 8 ROOM 100.
Storm’s POV
    The guards finally walked up to where I was standing, my back pressed against the cold brick wall, shoulders stiff, heart hammering like a drum in my chest. Their heavy boots echoed in the hallway, a slow, deliberate rhythm that made my stomach twist.
   “ Well, well, well,” one of them drawled, stopping just behind me. “ If it isn't the infamous Andrew Walton.”
   My jaw tightened. I stayed frozen, hands curled into fists at my sides, trying to steady my breathing. Their voices weren’t just mocking—they carried accusation, danger, authority.
   “ You know,” the other guard added, leaning so close I could feel his hot breath against my ear, “ It’s past the principal’s curfew. Funny… you wander around like you own the place. Care to explain why you're defying orders?”
   I swallowed. My throat was dry. “ I-I…”
   “ Oh, and let’s not forget,” the first guard stepped closer, their shadows swallowing me. “ You’re also suspected for being responsible for the death… and the disappearances of several students. 
    “ No trace. Funny how chaos always seems to follow you, Andrew Walton.”
   Before I could respond, rough hands gripped my shoulders and spun me around. I blinked against the harsh corridor light as my head jerked back. My fists rose defensively, but fear coiled tighter than any defense I could muster.
    “ Listen,” I started, voice shaky, trying to stay calm, “ It’s not what you think! You don’t understand—”
   “ Save it for the principal,” the first guard snapped, a cruel edge to his words.    
     “ She’ll enjoy hearing your lies.”
    Before I could protest, chains clinked against my wrists. My hands were pinned, and they jerked me forward. Every step echoed ominously in the hallway.
   I stumbled slightly, trying to adjust, muscles coiled like springs. Where was Lucian? Why wasn’t he here? His absence screamed louder than the guards’ boots.
    I forced my back upright, trying to cling to composure. Andrew Walton wouldn’t flinch. But Storm… My chest tightened, memories of Lucian shielding me flashed sharply through my mind. Could I survive this without him? Would he even come? 
   I shook my head, trying to snap out of the spiraling panic. But, the moment wouldn't let me. A foul, acrid smell cut through the air -rotten, metallic, unmistakable.
    I wrinkled my nose, and glanced down the hall, realizing with a chill that we were heading towards Room 100. My stomach flipped, my fists tightened in the chains. 
    Every step forward felt heavier, the smell stronger, and my mind raced with memories of the place.
     Lucian had been here with me before, shielding me, guiding me. Now? Nothing. Nothing but my own breath and the cold, unyielding presence of the guards.
    The guards yanked the heavy door open with a screech that made my head throb. Their grip was unyielding as they shoved me inside.
    The room reeked worse than I remembered, stale, damp, metallic, like a tomb that hadn’t seen sunlight in decades. The walls were lined with deep, shadowy stains.
     And the air was thick, almost viscous, clinging to my skin as if trying to pull me down.
    “ Enjoy your stay, Andrew Walton,” the first guard sneered, leaning close enough for me to feel his heat.
   “ Don’t get too comfortable. We’ve kept this one just for… special occasions. And trust me, you’re going to earn every second of what’s coming.”
    “ Try anything stupid, and it’ll be your last thought. No one survives mistakes,” added the second guard.
     Then they stormed out, their boots clanging like war drums against the hallway floor. The lock clicked behind me. The sound echoed in the room, final and mocking. My stomach dropped.
   Desperation clawed at me, and I raced to the door, yanking at it, pulling, pounding with every ounce of strength I had. 
      “ Please! Open it! I—I can’t stay in here!”
   But the lock held fast. The guards were gone. Silence swallowed the room, thick and suffocating, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing and the chains dragging against the floor.
   I sank to the cold, uneven ground, head pressed against the wall, and let the weight of the room hit me.
     Nostalgia. Dark, impossible to shake, slipped over me like a shadow. This place… I knew it. Its smell, its oppressive corners, its suffocating air.
    The dwelling of monsters. The werewolves who had come before me, who had begged for death and never gotten it.
    Every inch of the stone walls screamed stories of pain and fear, echoes of screams trapped for decades.
    I clenched my teeth, pressing my hands against the chains, trying to steady the panic rising like a tide in my chest.
 I needed to survive. Somehow. Chains or no chains, I had to survive. And fast.
       Only a few hours.
    That’s all it would take before the real torment began. 
                          
    The bright sunlight flashed across my face, piercing through the cracks in the old, dusty window. I winced, squinting my eyes and raising my chained hands to block it. 
     The sudden light burned against my lids, harsh and unwelcoming, a reminder that another day had begun—and I was still here.
     Before I could even sit up, a sharp, brutal kick landed against my foot. Pain shot up through my leg. I gasped, curling slightly.
             “ Up.”
    The word was cold, commanding, and disgustingly familiar.
    I blinked through the light, my vision sharpening—and froze. Standing a few feet away was Mrs. Jones. The principal. Her dark heels gleaming under the sunlight, arms crossed, eyes sharp and venomous.
  Behind her, the same two guards smirked faintly, shadows leaning from the doorway.
   “ Well, well. The infamous Andrew Walton, awake at last. I was beginning to think you’d decided to die in your sleep. Would’ve saved us the trouble.”
   I pushed myself up, trembling. “ Ma’am, please, whatever you think—”
    “ Oh, don’t start,” she cut me off, voice slicing through the air. She stepped forward and tossed something at my feet.
   A blood-stained shirt. Another. Crumpled papers, shredded notes, a torn shoe. 
       Evidence.
   “ You recognize these?” she asked mockingly. “Every single one linked right back to you. The students you killed—or disappeared. Every trail. Every drop of blood. Every whisper.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true! I didn’t—”
   “ Silence!” she snapped, eyes blazing.  “You think your little act fools anyone? The quiet, pitiful routine? I should’ve ignored this entire case, let Lucian handle you. After all, he seems… quite invested in you.”
   My stomach twisted painfully at his name.
   “ But no,” she continued, crouching slightly, her face level with mine. “ You defied my orders. Thought you could walk these halls past curfew with no consequence?”
  “ Thought he would protect you forever. But tell me… where is your precious Lucian now?”
     I froze. No sound came.
   She straightened Her sharp perfume clashed with the rooms’ sour stench.     
 “ You see dear, even monsters get tired of their toys. And Lucian? Oh, he’ll be pleased when he hears I’ve decided to take justice into my own hands.”
   “ This isn’t just punishment,” she whispered, venom in her sweetness. “ This is for every student you buried beneath your lies.”
      Her words hit like daggers.
    Terror stole the color from my face. My lips parted, but the only thing that came out was a shallow, broken breath.
    The principal smirked, straightened her posture, and flicked imaginary dust off her blazer. “ Don’t bother begging, Andrew. No one’s listening anymore.”
    With a wave of her hand, the guards turned on their heels. The door clanged open, the metal hinges screaming.
    As they stepped out, the principal gave me one last look. A cruel, satisfied smile, and said softly, “ By the time Lucian finds you, if he even bothers to, there’ll be nothing left worth saving.”
  The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.
    Silence swallowed everything.
   For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the door, my body trembling. Then, the pain hit.
    It started as a pulse, sharp, sudden, then grew into a wave of agony that crashed through my skull. I screamed, clutching my head, the sound tearing through my throat raw. 
   My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold stone floor, chains clattering.
    “ Make it stop!” I gasped, eyes burning with tears. “ Please… someone.. make it stop..”
    The pain was relentless, spreading like fire under my skin, pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat until every nerve screamed.
    “ Lucian!” I choked out between sobs, the name breaking from me like a prayer.         
   “ Please… please.. please, Lucian… help me…” 
    I pressed my forehead to the floor, shaking violently.
    I knew he was the reason behind all this, or at least, I wanted to believe it was him. Could someone else be using his shadow against me? My mind refused to entertain that possibility. 
   The fear, the torment, the madness that crawled beneath my skin. And yet, at this moment, he was also the only one I wanted to come through that door.
   But the principal’s words echoed mercilessly in my head.
   Even monsters get tired of their toys.
    I squeezed my eyes shut, the darkness behind my lids swimming with pain and despair. For the first time, I didn’t know if Lucian would come.
    And that thought… hurt worse than the pain itself.