After School

2.48 Yuta

September 17, 1946: After School

With the Witch at his side and the world around him a blur, Yuta screamed from deep within the forces of his soul. He allowed his fear to ignite all the willpower and strength stowed within and used it to fuel his magic. The Witch screamed alongside him, and Yuta was unsure as to what effect that had until it happened.

"Non-timere timorem meum amplius, Wilson Stevenson!" they chanted, as a dark ray shot from his palm.

The enormous and strong belt of darkness shot out and soared through the air. Wilson blinked and halted in his tracks when he saw the string of darkness propelling towards him at rocket speed. The magic struck him and he skidded across the ground, his head banging with every bounce. The moment the darkness struck Wilson, a white light flooded Yuta's vision.

Yuta shielded his face with his arms and the Witch hugged him as the impact of the force came in a gush of wind. They stood their ground as the strong wind pushed them backwards. The Witch's hair untied at the force and sprawled above her like a halo.

For a split second, in between the fragments of the light, he could see his friends facing their darkest fears. Carter was deep within an endless pool of water, Jessica struggled underneath the clutch of herself, Josh was being strangled by his mothers, Olivia was locked in a dark closet with her therapist, Barbara was in a spider's grip, and Ronald was being beaten by a ghost. Seconds later, the white light died down, surprisingly quickly. He couldn't see what happened to his friends after, but there was a stirring feeling within his heart that told him something good happened.

"Your friends are free, Yuta," she whispered from beside him, her slender arms still around his waist.

Yuta looked up and dropped his arms. The hallway was still and Wilson was on the floor, but it was still not over. They had a few minutes before he stood up, so Yuta glanced at the Witch. She smiled at him warmly, the happiness extending to her eyes and deep within her soul. Yuta observed her gentle features and he realized that he did not hate her. He simply pitied the woman who lived a tragic life and an even more tragic afterlife.

"Witch..." he muttered, his lips parted with surprise as he scanned her face. "Your violet eyes, they're gone!"

The Witch smiled at him, blinking her black orbs at him. They were glossy and gleaming, but it looked uncanny on the woman who bore purple hues for her entire life. "Yes, Yuta, I know," she whispered, her melodic voice ringing through the silent hallway. "They're yours now."

Yuta blinked with puzzlement. His eyes felt normal, yet there was a strange stinging within. The Witch swiftly conjured a mirror and lifted it for him to see. He stared at his reflection and gasped.

His eyes had been replaced with hers. Or, perhaps he always had a violet flare underneath the layer of darkness. The boy's eyes were both violet and obsidian at the same time, with specks of white creeping around the edges. He blinked and the beauty was momentarily covered by his eyelashes. By the time Yuta's eyes opened again, his intense stare startled himself. It was a stare that communicated his pain and it was telling himself to let go and move on. But Yuta could not move on, just as he could not forget his glaring eyes whose light never faded even in a sea of despair.

"Are you ready, Yuta?" the Witch whispered, as the mirror disintegrated.

Yuta nodded without hesitation as Wilson Stevenson rose from the ground. He bared his teeth at Yuta before he was caught off guard by the woman in a black dress standing beside him. His eyes flew open as his brain registered the Witch, but by then, it was too late.

"Mortem!" Yuta and the Witch chanted, as a wave of shadows shot from his palm.

Pulsing from his fingertips was a dark light. It flickered and changed colours from obsidian to violet, then back to black. Threads of silver sprawled his vision, as the darkness enveloped the entire hallway, or perhaps the entire school. He could gauge the depth of his magic because of the coat of darkness that swarmed him. His magic was raw as if it was coming from decayed nature mingling with the earth. Terrifying, intentional, Pagan magic.