the seven devils [completed]

chapter thirty-four

"The one near the exit has unfortunately passed away; her body could not take the, uh— the stress, and perished during the night, around midnight, we believe," stated Lawrence in a hushed tone. The sound of wheels screeching against the floor resonated through the room, and then a tray of utensils was moved across a table. Something ripped at the skin, and a damp smell filled the room.

"What about the boy?"

"The boy? We have tried inducing forced shifting, and we believe that with the moon approaching, it will only become easier—"

"But you know that is not what I am asking about." The man's voice was guttural, so much so that the girl found herself cringing at it. Her head was still pounding, and she had to fight with all her might against the substance that had been injected.

"Oh, well, I cannot say, sir, the most promising one is still the Petrov witch. We have been studying her for a while now, but it is hard to say whether it would work."

The footsteps came back to where the girl stood stock-still, and she felt a presence hovering over her, "She has grown up under your watch, has she not?".

"Yes, right in the heart of Scholomance, and she has been under our supervision for years now, undergoing all of our...trials. Nevertheless, it is hard to tell the outcome of it all. Combining such forces goes against nature, but if we succeed, we will find ourselves owning an incredible weapon."

A door banged, and Varya felt her head pound as obscurity started to skim from the edges of her vision, and she knew that whatever the substance was, it was meant to knock her out. However, something in her blood fought against the intrusiveness, and she used her last bit of energy to stay awake, alert.

Her head dropped to the side, and she saw Matron Lawrence approach another bed across from her, where a pale hand stuck out from the sheets. The doctor pulled them away, revealing the cold body of Ecaterina Banescu, and Varya felt queasiness build in her skin. That was one of her fellow seniors, a sixth-year that had died the previous month due to a strigoi attack, and yet her body had been brought to the catacombs. Even in her mind-altered state, the decay was evident, and Varya could feel the odor of putrefaction.

A scream sounded in the room, and Varya's eyes dashed to the corner, where a boy was fighting against the Matron, clawing at her face as she was trying to restrict him down with chains. There was no virtue in his growl, and he trashed around spitefully. Eventually, when he was restrained, Lawrence pulled out a chart and scribbled down a few notes. Then, she took a syringe from her pocket and stuck it in the boy's neck, immediately knocking him out. That was Ivan Oleh. Varya was close to him.

Drip, drop. Drip, drop. Drip, drop.

The damned sound of liquid dripping would not leave the poor girl's mind, almost driving her insane, and she struggled to find its source yet again, but to no avail. Her eyes flew to the pipes repeatedly, but she could not see any hole in them. Her head moved slightly, and then she saw the red duct that connected from her hand to a bag just below her bed.

Why were they taking her blood?

***

Varya gasped as she opened her eyes, and fell backward to the floor as she scurried away from the pensive, breathing harshly. It was as if a river of coldness had awakened her from a deep slumber, and a memory that had not been there previously was now at the front of her brain. It was an odd feeling, almost as if she had watched a movie; she was aware that the person in it had been her, and yet it did not feel like it.

Albus gave her a hand, and then hoisted her up off of the floor, helping the girl reach one of the chairs in his office. Varya sat down and thanked her Professor as he gave her a cup of hot chocolate. She sipped on it anxiously, still shaken by what her mind had conjured.