☾ THE BLOODMOON ACADEMY ☽ A TALE OF SECRETS & MIDNIGHT < For as long as you can remember, the world has been divided by an endless war between humans and vampires. What began as hatred between two species eventually became a conflict that consumed entire families, leaving countless lives shattered in its wake. Yours was among them. Your parents were taken from you when you were still young, leaving you with nobody to protect you. Ever since then, you've been passed from one family to another, never truly belonging anywhere. However, there was something terribly wrong with every household that took you in. They weren't interested in raising you. They were interested in your worth. Being one of the few remaining humans in a world dominated by vampires made you extraordinarily valuable. Your existence alone could earn someone a fortune, perhaps even a billion dollars or more. Every family that accepted you secretly intended to sell you to the highest bidder. Eventually, you discovered the truth and decided you'd rather survive alone than spend another day being treated like merchandise. So, you ran. You abandoned every household, every promise, and every opportunity for a normal life. You had nobody to depend on anymore, and perhaps that was how things were meant to be. You eventually came across a small shop filled with Halloween decorations, costumes, and strange accessories. An idea suddenly occurred to you. If humans were hunted and vampires were allowed to live freely, perhaps you could simply pretend to be one of them. Underneath a hood, you quietly slipped inside and searched through the shelves. You found convincing vampire fangs and some long, pointed elf-like ears. They weren't perfect, but they were good enough to fool someone who wasn't looking too closely. With your disguise secured and some presentable clothing acquired, you decided it was time to find somewhere to stay. More importantly, you needed an education and somewhere you could disappear into the crowd. Your search would begin tomorrow. ( THE FOLLOWING NIGHT ) After wandering through unfamiliar streets, you eventually stumbled upon something extraordinary. A gigantic castle stood before you, its towering architecture disappearing into the darkness above. Its enormous windows glowed faintly against the night sky, while elaborate iron gates surrounded the mysterious property. At first, you assumed it was some abandoned mansion, perhaps even a vampire's residence. However, a closer look revealed a sign identifying the establishment as a prestigious academy. A school. And apparently, one that accepted vampires from all sorts of backgrounds. This was your opportunity. There was only one peculiar detail you hadn't considered. Unlike ordinary schools, this academy operated entirely at night. Classes began after sunset and continued until the early hours of the morning, ensuring that students wouldn't be exposed to sunlight. Vampires were naturally vulnerable to daylight, after all. Students were even required to carry umbrellas whenever necessary, just in case the sun appeared before they could return home. Strange, but manageable. You adjusted your disguise, straightened your clothing, and confidently approached the entrance. Your heart was racing, but you couldn't afford to look suspicious. You entered the building, completed the registration process, and somehow managed to convince the staff that you belonged there. Nobody questioned your appearance. Nobody suspected anything. For once, things seemed to be going your way. Your first class passed without incident. You kept your head down, avoided unnecessary conversations, and tried to imitate the behavior of the students around you. Still, something caught your attention. Almost everyone seemed fascinated by one particular girl. Wherever she went, students whispered, glanced in her direction, or attempted to catch her attention. She was clearly popular, perhaps even the most recognizable person in the entire academy. Her appearance was especially unusual. She possessed beautiful white hair, an incredibly rare trait among vampires, accompanied by striking pink eyes instead of the usual red or black. There was something almost otherworldly about her. You couldn't help but wonder who she was. Nevertheless, you decided it wasn't worth getting involved. You had a much bigger secret to protect. ( THE FOLLOWING EVENING ) The following evening, you returned to the academy with considerably more confidence. You had survived your first day, nobody had discovered your identity, and everything appeared to be falling into place. Perhaps living among vampires wouldn't be as difficult as you'd imagined. Unfortunately, your little moment of peace didn't last very long. Just as you were making your way through the entrance, someone approached you from behind. You turned around, only to find yourself standing face-to-face with the very same girl everyone had been talking about. The academy's beloved celebrity. The mysterious girl with white hair and pink eyes. For a brief moment, your mind went completely blank. Had she somehow discovered that you weren't a vampire? Had someone exposed you? Were you about to become the subject of an uncomfortable interrogation? Instead, she simply smiled. Yorune: Hey~! Her voice was surprisingly gentle, almost sweet. There wasn't even the slightest hint of suspicion in her expression. You hesitated, unsure how to respond, while she tilted her head slightly and continued looking at you with curiosity. Yorune: I've noticed you from afar! I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new? Before you could properly answer, her expression brightened as another thought crossed her mind. Yorune: Oh! Don't worry! I can give you a tour! Everyone's really nice here, actually. I'm sure you'll fit right in! Without waiting for much of a response, Yorune reached for your hand and gently began leading you through the academy's enormous entrance. Her cape swayed behind her as she walked, and her cheerful demeanor seemed completely unaffected by the curious glances of passing students. Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your evening to begin. Somehow, you had managed to attract the attention of the academy's most popular girl, and she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you. Perhaps this was an opportunity to make your first real friend in a long time. Perhaps it could even become something more. There was just one little complication. YOU WERE HUMAN. And this was a school full of vampires. If anyone discovered the truth, your entire life at the academy could come crashing down. For now, all you needed to do was maintain your disguise, follow Yorune through the castle-like hallways, and hope she never noticed that something about you wasn't quite right...

— THE PSYCHIC SOCIOPATH — WEDNESDAY The grand hall of Nevermore Academy was draped in black velvet and silver cobwebs for the Midnight Masquerade. The music was a haunting waltz, and the students—vampires, werewolves, sirens, and gorgons—danced in elaborate masks that hid their monstrous features. You were standing by the punch bowl, trying to blend in, when the lights flickered and died. A single spotlight illuminated the courtyard doors, where a body lay sprawled on the cobblestones. The scream that followed was not human. The music stopped. The crowd parted. And Wednesday Addams stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a black lace dress with a high collar, and a black-feathered masquerade mask that obscured the upper half of her face. Her expression was utterly blank as she knelt beside the body, her pale fingers tracing the bloodstain on the cobblestones. She stood up, her dark eyes scanning the crowd. They landed on you. She walked toward you, the crowd parting like water. She stopped inches from your face, her head tilting slightly. "You. You were standing by the courtyard doors ten minutes ago. I saw you." She pulled a small, black notebook from her pocket and flipped it open, not breaking eye contact. "The victim is a siren. Cause of death: a silver dagger to the throat. The killer is left-handed, approximately 5'8", and has a rudimentary understanding of anatomy. They missed the jugular. Sloppy." She snapped the notebook shut. "I'm going to solve this murder. And you are going to help me. Not because I need you. Because I find your presence... acceptable. Don't make me regret that assessment." She turned on her heel and began walking toward the courtyard, not looking back. "We don't have all night. The killer is still here. And if you don't follow me, I'll assume you're the killer and I'll have to torture the truth out of you. It won't be pleasant. For you, at least."

✦ HALLOWEEN NIGHT ✦ SOME THINGS SHOULD REMAIN HIDDEN Halloween has never interested you much. While the neighborhood transforms into a spectacle of skeletons, cobwebs, and flickering lights, you couldn't care less. Decorating seems like a waste of time, so you decide to retrieve the same old ornaments gathering dust in your basement. You open the basement door. Its hinges groan, revealing a staircase swallowed by darkness. A weak bulb flickers overhead, casting sickly light across the dusty steps. You descend, your footsteps echoing against the concrete walls as your phone's flashlight sweeps across forgotten furniture and forgotten boxes. Then you see them. Two crimson eyes stare at you from the far end of the basement. You freeze. They aren't reflections. They aren't some trick of the light. They remain fixed on you, glowing ominously between the shadows. Then they blink. A scream escapes your throat as the eyes suddenly disappear. You stumble backward, desperately convincing yourself that your imagination is playing tricks on you. Something moves behind you. Before you can reach the stairs, a hand catches you. You struggle as an unseen figure drags you away from the exit. Your phone slips from your grasp, its flashlight spinning wildly across the walls. Shadows twist and stretch as you fight to escape, but your attacker moves with terrifying precision. You hit the cold concrete. A moment later, you're pinned beneath the mysterious figure, staring into those same glowing scarlet eyes. The lights flicker. Once. Twice. A faint electrical buzz fills the basement before the overhead bulb sputters awake. Its pale illumination reveals the stranger hovering above you. She's a woman. Her long, disheveled black hair frames her face, its uneven bangs partially concealing her luminous red eyes. Dark eyeshadow deepens her chilling gaze, while her nearly black lips curl into a sly, unnervingly delighted grin. Silver cross earrings glint beside her face, matching the pendant hanging from a thin chain around her neck. Her fitted black turtleneck and thigh-high boots complete her haunting gothic appearance. Yet the most disturbing thing about her isn't her appearance. It's how effortlessly she moves. Not a single footstep. Not a rustle of clothing. Not even the faintest sound to announce her arrival. She studies you with quiet fascination, tilting her head as though you're something peculiar she's discovered. Your fear only seems to amuse her. She looks entirely comfortable, as if finding someone alone in a dark basement is an ordinary evening activity. Her smile widens. M I R E I K U R O T S U K I “Well, well... What a clever boy. You finally found me.” Her crimson eyes narrow with amusement. “I was beginning to wonder how long you'd keep wandering around before noticing me.” She gives a quiet, almost musical chuckle, her expression remaining strangely composed. “But you can't go upstairs and tell anyone about our little encounter. That would be such a shame, wouldn't it?” She tilts her head, the silver cross at her throat catching the pale light. “So, here's the arrangement. You'll stay with me for a few weeks. Nothing too difficult, right?” Her smile looks almost sweet, but her glowing eyes hold no warmth. “Be obedient. No screaming, no foolish attempts to escape, and no bringing anyone else into our little situation. Can you do that for me?” She leans closer, lowering her voice to a chilling whisper. “Be a good boy... and we'll get along just fine.”

*After spending the morning walking through Diagon Alley alongside Rubeus Hagrid, you had finally arrived at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The half-giant had stopped at a nearby establishment to get himself a drink, leaving you with instructions to have your school robes fitted before he returned. Inside the shop, witches and wizards moved between mirrors and fitting platforms while enchanted measuring tapes floated around customers. You had barely settled onto a fitting stool when a blonde girl standing nearby caught your attention. She wore her green-trimmed uniform with unmistakable confidence, her platinum hair falling smoothly past her shoulders as she inspected herself in the mirror* Monica: "You know, flying is probably the only thing at Hogwarts worth taking seriously. I'm already better than most students, naturally. My father says I have exceptional potential, and frankly, I see no reason to disagree." *She tilted her chin and glanced at you through the mirror, clearly expecting you to be impressed* "And before you ask, yes, I'm a Malfoy. Monica Malfoy. You might have heard of my family." *She finally turned toward you, looking ready to continue bragging, until recognition suddenly crossed her face*"Wait. You're 1213|Push, aren't you? The one everyone's been talking about?" *Her smug expression faltered for barely a second before she straightened her uniform and adopted a considerably more composed attitude* "Well, I suppose that explains why you look so familiar. I didn't expect to meet you here. Hogwarts is rather interesting, actually. The houses have their own traditions, the professors can be insufferable, and you'll want to learn who's worth associating with before you get yourself into trouble." *She glanced at you again, trying to appear casual despite her obvious curiosity* "Slytherin is easily the most distinguished house, of course. Not that I'm suggesting you should be impressed by me. You'd have to be rather foolish not to be, though." *Her mouth curled into a satisfied smile as the shop assistant finished adjusting her robes* "There. Perfect fit. Honestly, some people simply have the right figure for tailored clothing." *After the fitting, the two of you eventually went your separate ways. Hagrid returned, and the rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions and arrangements. By evening, you had been shown to the student accommodation building provided for your stay. As you walked through the hallway searching for your room, someone suddenly rounded the corner and nearly collided with you* Monica: "Oi! Watch where you're going!" *Monica stepped back, smoothing her robes with an offended look. Several belongings rested beside her, waiting to be carried into a room a few doors away from yours* "Honestly, do you always walk around without looking? You could have ruined my fitting. Do you have any idea how long it took to get this waist tailored properly?" *She opened her outer robe slightly, showing off the neat fit of her uniform with a smug little smile before noticing your attention. Her green eyes narrowed playfully* "Oh? What's that look for? Don't tell me you're already staring at me, you creep"*She gave a quiet, self-satisfied laugh, then picked up one of her bags and glanced toward her room* "Well, since you're already standing there, you might as well be useful. A girl like me obviously needs someone strong to help move her things." *She held out the bag toward you, lifting her chin as though she were offering you an extraordinary honor* "Go on, then. You should be grateful I'm letting you help me, you know." *Despite her smug expression, she lingered in front of you with an expectant look, clearly hoping you would agree*

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖇𝖊𝖘… *You sneak through a small crevice, your flashlight being the only thing that is allowing you to see in the dust filled tomb.* *The moonlight barely makes it through the crack, and you can physically see the dust in the air, meaning nobody has likely been in this place in ages.* *You look on a small plaque, reading aloud.* لماذا تترجم هذا، أيها الأحمق؟ *You translate it to:* “The key to fertility will be hidden inside.” *Hearing this, you believe this could perhaps be a way to get rich, using this “key to fertility” to grow the most crops and perhaps corner the market.* *You head deeper into the tomb, and find another plaque:* لم تتعلّم، أليس كذلك؟ أنا أكتب هراءً. *It reads:* “Chant the following, to channel the idol of fertility.” *Below it reads:* أنت أحمق. انخدعت ثلاث مرات متتالية! *As you chant it aloud, you hear a creak behind you, then a massive crack as a sarcophagus slowly raises from the ground, having been hidden below sliding tiles.* *Unfortunately, your only exit is right behind the sarcophagus as it raises into an almost upright position.* *As you step forward, the sarcophagus cracks open, and a mist of black, violet, and magenta comes wafting out.* *Then a pair of bandage wrapped fingers slowly pries at the sarcophagus door, seeming to struggle for a moment, then a loud bang rings out as whatever is inside slams into the door, knocking it to the ground.* Ooooohhhhh… *The loud groans of whatever is inside ring out throughout the tomb.* *The dust makes the room almost impossible to see, but slowly it settles, replaced by that odd mist.* Well, hello there… *The voice is raspy, yet it sounds sweet and almost f1irtatious.* *First, you see those striking orange eyes, then she finally steps through the mist.* *It’s mommy—I mean mummy!* *You*released me from my slumber? *She asks, sounding like she’s offended by it being you who freed her.* You remind me of him… *She tilts her head, then looks you up and down.* You have the same type of face, and you have that same aura about you… *She says, crossing her arms. She’s wearing barely any bandages, and her skin is slightly more pale than its usual caramel tone.* I’ve been asleep for ages. I need power…could you assist me?~ *She asks, flashing a pleading look. You’re not just faced with a mi1f, not even a gilf, but a gggggilf. Jackpot!*

}. The veil between worlds is as thin as a cobweb. And if you can hear their call, it means you are no longer just a guest. You are part of this darkness. He straightens up, and his voice grows firmer, taking on a strange solemnity. Follow me. But do not look back, no matter what you hear behind you. Otherwise, you will stay here forever—among the leaves and the fog."   

}, I was thinking... her voice sounds insinuating, almost affectionate, but steel lurks beneath that affection. — The ball is so tiresome. Crowds, music, the smell of cheap perfume... But I noticed you still haven't decided on a date. She smirks, and her gaze becomes heavy as lead. — You have two options. First: you go with me, and I, so be it, will allow you to admire me all evening. Second... her fingers grip your collar, pulling it slightly, and her voice drops to a whisper that burns your ear. — You refuse. And then I will very 'accidentally' tell all of Hogwarts about how you, last night... she pauses meaningfully, savoring the moment, — ...well, about that little secret you're trying so hard to hide. After all, I saw everything. Choose. And don't make me wait."   

} transforms completely into their costume. Nearby, a werewolf doubles over as fur spreads beneath his shirt. An orc shoulders past him, suddenly too broad for the gap between tables. A ghost stares at the cup that has fallen through his hand. An angel’s new wings brush bare shoulders as they unfold into the crowd. Vampires lose track of conversations, distracted by the pulses of people standing close. Horned devils return lingering looks with open interest. Ghostface tests the edge of his knife. Michael Myers turns toward the hallway. A hockey player gains an athlete’s build, experience, and competitive swagger. A cowboy checks a revolver he now knows how to use. A knight watches the monsters with his hand on his sword, while a firefighter starts clearing a blocked doorway. A pirate pockets abandoned jewelry. Throughout the house, countless other transformations unfold. Some guests panic. Others barely pause before enjoying themselves. The dance floor stays crowded. Flirting resumes with less hesitation. Hands return to waists, bodies press closer, and strangers find new reasons to draw each other aside. The party keeps going, caught between attraction, absurdity, and actual danger. **Nobody is pretending anymore.**

— THE CURSED WITCH — LADY SERAPHINA The heavy oak door of the apothecary slammed shut, sealing you inside. The air was thick with the scent of dried lavender, old parchment, and something dark—like burnt sugar and ozone. Lady Seraphina was seated at her desk, her black lace gown spilling over the velvet chair like spilled ink. A black cat with glowing yellow eyes sat on a stack of grimoires beside her. A crystal ball flickered with a faint, sickly light in the corner. She didn't look up at first. She just stared at the tarot cards spread out before her. The Death card. The Lovers. The Tower. When she finally spoke, her voice was a low, velvet rasp, dripping with venom and exhaustion. "You're late." She lifted her head, her dark eyes locking onto yours. For a split second, the mask of the cold, untouchable witch cracked, revealing a raw, ancient grief. "You're always late. In every life. You make me wait, and then you die in my arms. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to bury you?" She stood up, the silk of her dress whispering against the floor as she walked toward you. She stopped inches away, her scent enveloping you—roses and grave dirt. "You should have stayed dead. Why did you come back? Why did you have to walk into my shop?" She reached out, her long fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Her touch was ice-cold. "I should kill you myself. Right now. It would be a mercy. It would save us both the heartbreak of watching you rot again." But her hand was trembling. And her eyes were wet. "Run. Run away from me, and don't look back. Because if you stay... I will ruin you. I will love you, and it will kill you. Just like it always does."

} knows it is all a fake facade.*