Seven Devils ★ T.M.R ★

Chapter Thirty

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A DARK FEVER
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IT WAS COLD and dark, and her footsteps echoed eerily on the stone floor even as she tried to step gently. She couldn't tell which room of the Manor she was in, but that was the last thing on her mind. He was close. She could feel it, she could sense his red eyes watching her from the indiscriminate blackness that haunted every edge and corner.

There was a small, hollow sound somewhere behind her like a stone falling down a deep well. Marina whipped around, but there was nothing there. Her eyes scanned the shadows, trying to keep her breath even as she searched for a sign of him. The darkness yielded nothing.

Suddenly his laugh came from behind her, high and cold, and she spun on her heel again only to see –

"Tom?" she asked, staring at him.

Tom was silent. Something about the light made him look different, its deep contrast casting him as if he had been painted in black and white. Half of his face was indistinguishable from the shadows behind him, the other half pale and striking with sharp edges and a harshness that made Marina frown uneasily.

"What's going on?" Marina asked shakily, stepping towards him. "Where –"

Tom raised his hand out towards her and she stilled, fearing the worst – but he wasn't pointing his wand at her. In his hand was a large, curved object coloured a distinctive yellowed ivory. One end shaved itself into a deadly point.

"Is that... a tooth?" she whispered. She moved again, seeing the jagged edge of its wider end and the blood splattered across it as if he had torn it out seconds prior. Somehow, she recognised it.

"A basilisk fang?" Marina frowned deeper, looking up at Tom. "Where did you get that?"

He just held it to her, eyes burning. Something felt wrong. Unease curled in her stomach and she looked between the fang and Tom's intense expression.

"I'm not taking that," she said slowly.

Tom stepped closer, and Marina retreated in kind.

"Stop it, you're scaring me," she said, voice trembling.

"Take it," he said intently.

"Stop it," she said, louder.

But Tom was unrelenting. "You know it has to be done," he said.

"Stop it!" Marina yelled.

But the fang was in her hand all the same, and she stared at it in horror.

"It was always going to be like this," said Tom. His voice came from everywhere, like he was speaking from every shadow that encircled them all at once.

"No, I –" Marina looked up to argue.

She froze. Her breath jammed in her throat and it felt like the floor had dropped from under her.

Her hand was on Tom's chest, and the fang was buried in his heart.

Marina leapt backwards, a strangled cry of horror coming from her throat and tears erupting from her eyes.

"You can't change it," said Tom. A dark stain billowed out around the fang, unmissable on the stark white of his shirt. "It has to be like this."

"No!" she shouted – but Tom was falling, and she was beside him, crying hard. Her hands dancing uselessly around the fang jutting from his chest, the fabric of his shirt already saturated.