Chapter II
The City of Shadows
I'm heading to a place where every step could be a mistake — a place whispered about in fear and cloaked in ancient power.
The Witch's City.
By my side is Arnold, a witchcraft historian and a reluctant informant. He's not the kind of person who volunteers for danger — but he knows too much to stay behind.
We're both on a Vampire-owned bus, designed in the shape of a massive coiled dragon. Its metallic scales shimmer with enchantment, and the air inside smells faintly of old blood and forgotten spells. Creatures of all kinds sit silently around us — eyes down, voices hushed, magic humming faintly beneath their skin.
But one…
One woman is watching me.
Her gaze isn't loud — it's focused. Sharp. Like she sees more than she lets on.
Arnold leans toward me and whispers,
"That one… she's a witch. And I think she knows something."
Without hesitation, I rise and take the empty seat beside her.
She doesn't look at me. She doesn't even flinch.
But then, in a voice soft and heavy with warning, she speaks:
"Aurora… the one you're looking for won't come to you easily. And when they do… all you'll find is pain."
A chill creeps down my spine.
"What do you know?" I ask, locking my eyes on her.
"Tell me the truth. Because I have ways of getting answers — ways you won't like."
She lets out a quiet laugh, almost sad, almost amused.
"Anger doesn't suit such a beautiful face, Aurora."
She turns to me then — slowly, like the weight of her words is dragging her.
"Listen carefully. I know you're on your way to the Witch's City. But you won't find anyone there. Not today. We're all at the temple. Because tonight…"
She glances out the window toward the darkening sky.
"…the moon won't rise. And when the moon disappears, our power grows. It is the law of magic."
I narrow my eyes.
"You're trying to distract me. Trying to delay the investigation. Just tell me what you know, and maybe I can lessen your punishment."
She sighs deeply, eyes now glowing faintly — a flicker of magic flashing across her irises.
"You're a detective. Suspicion clings to you like second skin. You see danger in every truth. Every silence."
I open my mouth to respond — but before I can, the bus screeches to a halt.
We've arrived.
The gates of the Witch's City loom outside, twisted and beautiful, carved with spells that pulse beneath the stone.
The witch says nothing more. She simply rises, her cloak whispering secrets as she moves past me, and steps off the bus.
Arnold and I follow, stepping into a city so still it feels like time itself has been paused.
No footsteps.
No voices.
No life.
Just silence.
Exactly as she said —
Not a soul in sight.
The homes are empty, windows closed, doorways untouched.
No lights. No magic flickering in the air. No presence of the people who once called this place home.
We exchange a glance.
Something is happening here.
Something hidden.
Something planned.
And with no other choice, we turn toward the temple — the heart of the city's oldest magic — hoping that the answers we need are waiting inside its sacred walls.
Or… perhaps the danger is.
Either way, we're going in.
The Light Behind the Silence
On our way to the temple, through the quiet, abandoned streets of the Witch's City, something catches my eye — a faint, flickering light coming from one of the houses.
In a city drowned in silence and shadow, this lone glow feels wrong.
Out of place.
Alive in a place that should be utterly still.
I turn to Arnold, uneasy.
"Do you see that?" I ask, pointing toward the glowing window.
Arnold narrows his eyes.
"Could be a ritual in progress," he says quietly.
"Some sort of black magic ceremony, maybe. We shouldn't go near it. If it's what I think it is, there could be an entity involved — something dark. Something that might latch onto us if we get too close."
His tone is serious. Too serious.
"Arnold…" I warn, catching the fear behind his words.
He holds up his hands, chuckling nervously.
"Okay, okay. I was joking — sort of. But we should check it out. Carefully."
With hesitant steps, we approach the house.
The light flickers from within, but through the windows, we can't see a thing. No movement. No silhouettes. Just the glow, like the room itself is holding its breath.
The door is sealed tight, enchanted. No ordinary spell either. It's laced with something old. Something meant to keep people out — or keep something in.
Arnold places his hand against the door and mutters an incantation. His palm glows a deep violet as the magic within him awakens. Slowly, the door begins to melt — like wax beneath fire — until there's nothing left but a whisper of smoke.
We step inside.
The smell of blood is immediate. Sharp. Metallic. Unmistakable.
And then… we see it.
Another body.
Just like before.
The head — gone.
The eyes — placed carefully beside the torso.
But this time… there's something new.
Hair.
Thick strands of dark hair, gently laid across the body like a shroud, a grotesque form of respect — or mockery. It's ritualistic. Intentional. And chilling.
Arnold freezes beside me, his face pale under the flickering light.
He pulls on a pair of gloves, kneels by the corpse, and gently lifts a lock of hair.
Then he whispers, almost to himself,
"This one… he's a hybrid."
I stare at him. "Hybrid?"
He nods grimly.
"Mother's a witch. Father's a Dracula. That combination is rare — dangerously powerful. But look at the body… it's completely drained."
He points to the chest, the abdomen, the bones beneath the skin.
"His powers were siphoned out. Not just killed — extracted. As if someone wanted to absorb his strength, not just end his life."
I feel a sharp chill crawl down my spine.
This isn't just murder anymore. This is harvesting.
Arnold stands quickly, pulling out a communication crystal from his cloak.
"I need to alert the others. This changes everything."
His voice is tight. Urgent.
"Aurora, don't move. Don't go anywhere. If someone's nearby… if the killer is still watching… it's too dangerous to be alone."
He steps outside, speaking quickly into the crystal, his words lost in the night wind.
And I'm left inside. With the body. With the silence.
With the heavy weight of knowing that the deeper we go,
The more horrifying this mystery becomes.
Whoever is doing this…
Isn't just hunting the magical.
They're collecting them.
Piece by piece.
Power by power.
And I'm next on their list.
I can feel it.
A Warning from the Temple
A terrible thought struck me, and I turned to Arnold, my voice tense with fear.
"Arnold… do you think this could be the work of that witch on the bus?"
His eyes widened — he was thinking the same thing.
Without another word, we rushed toward the temple, our footsteps echoing through the quiet, stone-paved streets of the Witch's City.
When we arrived, we were met with an overwhelming stillness.
Inside the temple, dozens of witches sat in deep meditation, cross-legged and motionless, their auras humming faintly in the air like invisible threads of power. Their eyes were closed, bodies perfectly still, as if suspended between this world and another.
We couldn't interrupt them — not without breaking something sacred.
So instead, we approached the temple priest, a robed figure with a long silver beard and knowing eyes. There was wisdom in his presence… and something unsettling too, something unreadable.
Arnold stepped forward first.
"Sir," he said, bowing respectfully, "do you believe something dangerous is happening here? Are these witches preparing for something dark?"
The priest's expression didn't change. But his reply was laced with a cryptic chill.
"These witches are always dangerous," he said softly.
"Tell me what it is you're truly asking."
I stepped in.
"You must already know about the murders," I said. "One after another. Four now. And we believe… this latest victim might connect directly to the witches."
The priest's eyes narrowed.
"That's a bold accusation."
I nodded, unshaken.
"On our way here, there was a witch on the vampire bus. She spoke to me — cryptic things, dark things. But the moment we arrived, she vanished. And shortly after… we found the fourth body. A hybrid — half witch, half Dracula. Young. Maybe twenty-three, twenty-four years old."
The priest grew still — deathly still. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, quietly, he spoke.
"If that is true… then someone is preparing something terrible. A ritual unlike anything we've seen in a century. A massive black magic invocation. If the child of a witch and Dracula was sacrificed… that alone speaks volumes."
Arnold interrupted, his voice cautious.
"The head was missing too."
The priest went rigid.
"Was it?" he asked slowly.
Then — something changed.
His eyes flickered. Not naturally — magically. As though a shadow passed over his soul.
Arnold turned to me, panic in his voice.
"Aurora… this is a possession. Something's wrong. Stay alert!"
Before I could respond, the priest's mouth twisted into a grin — not his own.
A demonic force surged through him, overtaking his body in a single breath.
The room darkened.
He looked directly at me.
Not like a man.
Like something ancient.
Something evil.
And then he spoke — his voice deeper now, layered, unnatural.
"Aurora…"
"You will never find the one you seek."
"And the next death… will be yours."
The words were sharp. Final. A prophecy and a threat wrapped into one.
And just like that, the spirit left his body, vanishing into the air like smoke retreating into shadow.
The priest collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Arnold, too, fell, drained and pale, hitting the cold temple floor.
And I stood there alone.
Shaken.
Heart pounding.
Knowing full well…
The game had just changed.
And now — I was the next target.
The Unraveling Web
Everything was spiraling — faster than I could process.
What began as a string of isolated murders had become something far more terrifying.
Rituals. Possessions. Prophecies of death.
The line between hunter and hunted was starting to blur.
And now… I was in the crosshairs.
But I won't run.
Yes, it's complicated. More than I ever imagined.
And yes, there are powers here far older, far darker, than anything I've ever faced.
But I am not someone who backs down when fear knocks.
I knock harder.
I made a vow the day I put on this badge — not just to protect, but to uncover the truth, no matter how deep it's buried… or how many monsters guard it.
The warnings keep coming.
Each one more chilling than the last.
"You'll never find them."
"The next death is yours."
They want to break me.
Shake my belief.
Plant fear in my soul and make me question every step.
But they forget one thing…
I'm not just a detective. I'm Aurora.
And fear doesn't silence me — it sharpens me.
So let them come.
Let the shadows creep closer.
Let the whispers try to haunt me.
Because I will find out the truth.
I will uncover the secret behind these killings.
Behind the missing faces.
Behind the stolen powers.
Behind the lies these creatures have kept hidden for centuries.
And I will face every single one of those who dared to warn me…
Because if they're warning me — it means they're afraid of what I might find.
And that tells me one thing:
I'm getting close.
Closer than ever before.
And I won't stop —
Not until I tear the darkness open and drag the truth screaming into the light.
To be continue....