Levi Rose was not one to blend in, but college life had a way of making even the most extraordinary people feel like just another face in the crowd. She navigated the bustling campus with a practiced ease, the weight of her books in her arms almost as heavy as the questions that had been circling her mind ever since that nightmare. She pushed through the sea of students, her eyes darting from one familiar face to the next. The campus was alive—laughter echoing through the quad, the clink of coffee cups at the local café, and the hum of gossip that seemed to cling to the air.
Levi's steps were deliberate, yet her mind was far away, lost in thoughts of the dream that had haunted her every waking moment since the night she saw Eloria's death. Her thoughts, usually sharp and focused, were clouded by something she couldn't quite grasp, a feeling of impending danger or—worse—something that she was supposed to remember but couldn't.
She entered the lecture hall, taking a seat in the back, where she always did. The professor's voice faded into the background as Levi pulled out her notebook, her mind already halfway elsewhere. It wasn't the class that held her attention, nor the latest round of exams or assignments—it was the strange feeling that something was changing around her.
After the lecture, Levi stepped outside into the crisp fall air, the sun low in the sky, casting long shadows over the campus. She started walking toward the student union, her feet moving on autopilot as her mind wandered back to the dream. The sigil, the prophecy, the blood-red moon—it all seemed too vivid, too real to be a mere figment of her imagination.
As she passed the ivy-covered walls of the old library, she stopped. Her breath caught in her throat.
There, creeping along the stone surface, was something new.
At first glance, the ivy seemed normal, just another part of the campus that had become overrun with nature's reach. But when Levi looked closer, she saw it—thin, winding patterns etched into the ivy itself. The veins of the plants weren't just random—they were deliberate, too perfect, and almost unnatural in their symmetry.
The ivy wasn't just ivy. The patterns resembled something she couldn't place—something familiar and ancient. The more she looked, the more the designs seemed to move, as though the vines were subtly shifting before her eyes.
Was this real?
Levi blinked, her breath catching in her throat. She rubbed her eyes, then looked again. The patterns were still there, but they weren't just patterns—no, they were sigils, intricate and delicate.
Her pulse quickened. The sigils on the ivy weren't just decorative. They were the same ones from her dream.
The sigil that had burned into her palm. The sigil that had been part of Eloria's prophecy.
Levi reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the ivy. The moment her skin made contact, a surge of energy shot through her, as if the ground beneath her feet had cracked open and something ancient was calling to her. The sensation was brief, lasting only a heartbeat, but it left her breathless, her hand still lingering on the wall as if afraid to pull away.
"Levi?" a voice called from behind her, pulling her out of her trance.
She turned quickly to see Scout Cromwell, one of her few friends, standing there with a raised eyebrow and a slight grin. He always had that laid-back, too-cool-for-school vibe, his dark hair falling into his eyes and his jacket zipped up to his chin.
"Uh, hey, Scout." Levi tried to mask the shock on her face. "What's up?"
He glanced at the ivy, then back at her, his smile faltering for a moment as he saw the strange expression on her face.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice a bit softer than usual.
Levi pulled her hand away from the wall, forcing a casual smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just—distracted. You know, the usual."
Scout raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on her before he shrugged and gestured toward the student union. "Well, if you're done daydreaming, I've got some coffee waiting for you inside. You're not gonna believe the gossip I've heard today."
Levi nodded, forcing herself to follow, but the sigil on the ivy stayed etched in her mind, that faint pulse of energy still lingering in the air.
The mystery was only beginning, and she could feel it in her bones.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the campus in a soft glow of streetlights and fading twilight. The campus, usually buzzing with activity during the day, had quieted down, leaving only the hum of distant conversations and the rustling of leaves in the cool evening air.
Scout Cromwell liked it this way—the stillness, the way the world seemed to pause after the chaos of the day. But tonight, there was something different. Something off.
He moved through the shadows, his steps silent as he navigated the familiar path along the old brick buildings. His eyes, always sharp and calculating, flicked from one corner of the campus to the next. Something was stirring, something that tugged at him with an unnerving sense of familiarity.
Magic was in the air. He could feel it, thick and heavy, like a storm waiting to break. As a vampire, Scout had always been sensitive to magical fluctuations, whether he wanted to be or not. It was just part of the package. But tonight, it wasn't just a faint presence or a ripple on the wind—it was undeniable.
He paused at the edge of the ivy-covered library, the same place where he'd seen Levi earlier that day. His eyes narrowed as he studied the walls once again, noticing the strange pattern in the ivy that Levi had touched.
Sigils.
The feeling in the air intensified as he stared at the ivy. There was a pulse, a tremor that seemed to emanate from the very earth beneath his feet. The sigils weren't just markings—they were active. It wasn't just a symbol or a sign; they were calling out, glowing faintly under the moonlight.
Scout's sharp instincts kicked in, and his senses flared as he took a cautious step closer to the wall. He placed his hand near the ivy, the energy sizzling through his fingertips. It was dark magic—ancient and powerful. He could taste the magic on his tongue, a bitter, metallic taste that left an unsettling aftertaste.
This wasn't something normal. This wasn't a magic that belonged in this time, not in this place. And it was too much for one person to wield—too much for anyone to be tampering with.
He moved his hand away from the ivy, his jaw tightening as he looked around the campus. The magic was spreading, slowly and insidiously. It felt like the very ground was saturated with it, each step Scout took drawing him further into its reach. The air was thick with a sense of unease, as if something—or someone—was waiting for the right moment to emerge.
He continued his walk, weaving through the campus grounds, noting every shift in the magical atmosphere. His eyes flicked to the shadows, the areas where the night seemed a bit darker than it should be, where the flickering streetlights cast unsettling shapes against the buildings. There was something following him—he could feel it.
But it wasn't just the magic he could sense. It was her.
Levi.
The way the magic had responded to her earlier, when her hand touched the ivy—it wasn't normal. She had felt something, too, something beyond what was natural for a human. Scout knew her well enough to know she wasn't just imagining things. Whatever was happening was tied to her, to the prophecy that had been buried long ago, and to a fate she couldn't escape, no matter how hard she tried.
The energy around him shifted again, sharper this time, and Scout knew that it wouldn't be long before whatever was coming would fully surface. He didn't know exactly what Levi's role was in all of this—he didn't have the full picture yet—but one thing was certain: the magic was growing stronger, and it was pulling her in.
And when it finally broke, Scout would be there. He didn't know why, but he knew it was inevitable.
He took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs as he turned away from the ivy wall. Tonight, something had shifted. Tomorrow, it would be different. And he'd be ready.
Prairie Smith always stayed late at the campus library. As a history major with a double minor in folklore and literature, she'd made the library her second home. Most nights, she stayed past closing hours, tucked away with permission in the stacks by a sympathetic librarian who understood her obsession with old books and obscure manuscripts.
Tonight was one of those nights.
The upper levels had gone dark an hour ago, leaving only the emergency lights and the pale moonlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. Prairie moved with a flashlight between the rows of books, her worn leather journal tucked under one arm, a pencil perched behind her ear. She wasn't looking for anything specific—just something interesting. Something unusual.
The sound came first. A low hum, like a whisper strung on wires, faint and musical.
She stopped mid-step.
It was coming from below.
The library basement had always been off-limits to undergrads. It was locked, unlit, and supposedly unsafe. Yet tonight, the old brass gate that led down the stone staircase stood slightly ajar.
Curiosity overrode caution. Prairie descended slowly, her flashlight flickering with every step as the humming grew louder. It wasn't electrical—it was rhythmic, like a heartbeat pulsing through stone.
She reached the final stair and paused. The room was vast, far larger than she'd expected. Shelves lined the walls, covered in dust and cobwebs, but her attention was drawn to the center of the space.
A circle of light.
It shimmered, suspended a few inches off the ground, a thin ring of silvery flame hovering midair. Runes spun inside it, symbols that hurt her eyes the longer she looked. They weren't in any language she recognized—not Latin, not Greek, not even Sumerian. This was something else. Something ancient.
She stepped closer.
The air was thick and heavy, as though she'd entered a different atmosphere. Her breath fogged in front of her, and her heart pounded in her ears. She should have run. But she didn't.
Her flashlight died with a soft pop. Now the only illumination came from the circle itself, casting ghostly shadows on the walls. Prairie leaned down, brushing dust from the floor to uncover more symbols—burned into the stone itself, glowing faintly red, as if awakened by her presence.
A sigil blazed in the air.
And then, everything went white.
The light engulfed her, sound rushed in like a scream, and the runes spun faster. She staggered back, shielding her face, and—
Silence.
Darkness.
Prairie blinked.
She was back at the top of the library stairs, standing at the main entrance. Her flashlight was back in her hand. The doors were locked. The lights were off. Her leather journal was gone.
She frowned. What had she come here for again?
She couldn't remember.
All she knew was that her chest ached, and her hands were shaking.
She turned away from the library, walking briskly toward her dorm, convinced she'd just fallen asleep while studying.
Behind her, in the basement where she'd never been, the circle of light still hovered—its pulse growing stronger, its hunger awakening.