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Chapter 19 - Chapter 19 : Prophecy

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*****

"Who is that guy that bumped into me?" Wednesday asked, eyes fixed on Rowan's fading silhouette.

"Rowan," Enid replied, baffled. "Rowan Laslow. Why—?"

Without a word, Wednesday stepped away from Enid and cut through the crowd after Rowan. He had already slipped beyond the edge of the festival, moving toward the tree line with the same nervous urgency she'd just seen in her vision.

Wednesday didn't hesitate.

Her pace quickened as she followed him into the shadows cast by the woods. In her mind, the image replayed—the monster attacking him. She didn't believe in coincidences.

If the vision was right, Rowan wasn't wandering—he was heading straight into danger.

And Wednesday meant to understand why
 before it reached him.

The farther she followed, the quicker the festival faded behind her. The music, the chatter, the lights—smothered by the woods. Now there was only the cold chorus of crickets and the steady crunch of Rowan's footsteps ahead.

Wednesday quickened her pace.

"Rowan," she called, voice slicing clean through the darkness, "you're in danger."

He stopped.

For a moment, he stood with his back to her—breathing hard, shoulders tight. Then he turned, his expression strangely calm for someone supposedly being hunted.

"I'm not the one in danger," Rowan said quietly. "You are."

Before Wednesday could react, he lifted his right hand.

A sharp force slammed into her chest.

She was yanked backward and pinned hard against a tree, bark digging into her spine. Her arms locked in place, held by an invisible grip that tightened like steel bands.

Telekinesis.

Rowan stepped closer, eyes glinting with something cold and determined—nothing like the timid boy she'd seen around campus.

"What are you doing?" Wednesday demanded, struggling against the invisible force holding her to the tree. For the first time, confusion flickered across her face—she couldn't make sense of Rowan's sudden hostility.

"Saving everyone from you," Rowan said, voice shaky, breath uneven. He looked terrified and determined all at once—like someone being pushed by a prophecy he didn't fully understand. "That's why I have to kill you."

Wednesday's eyes narrowed.

"So the gargoyle
 that was you?"

Rowan hesitated—just a second—then nodded.

"Yeah."

Wednesday exhaled sharply.

"It's always the quiet ones."

A gust of wind whipped through the trees. A folded page tore loose from Rowan's jacket pocket and drifted through the air before unfolding mid-flight. It plastered itself against a tree near Wednesday—its charcoal lines unmistakable.

Her face.

The Quad burning behind her.

Rowan's voice trembled, almost reverent.

"Girl in the picture. That's you."

Wednesday looked at him like he'd grown two heads.

"You want to kill me because of a drawing?"

"My mother drew it twenty-five years ago," Rowan said, stepping closer as the telekinetic pressure tightened around Wednesday's throat. "She was a Seer. A strong one. She told me about the vision before she died."

His eyes had the hollow glaze of someone clinging to a destiny he didn't fully want.

"My mother said it was my responsibility to stop this girl if she ever came to Nevermore. Because you'll destroy the school
 and everyone in it."

The invisible grip around Wednesday's neck constricted, cutting off her air.

"Rowan," she rasped, voice strained, "put me
 down."

Wednesday's nails dug into the bark behind her as she struggled against Rowan's telekinetic grip—until something shifted in the corner of her vision.

A shape.

Large.

Moving between the trees with heavy, deliberate steps.

Her eyes widened—not in fear, but in recognition.

The silhouette was the same one she'd seen in her vision: broad shoulders, hunched posture, claws catching the moonlight as it pushed through the underbrush.

The monster.

It stepped into the open just behind Rowan, its eyes glowing with feral intelligence.

A low, wet growwlll
 vibrated through the trees.

Rowan stiffened. His breath hitched, spine locking as the noise crawled up behind him. Slowly—like his body didn't want to obey—he turned.

The monster was already there.

Its yellow eyes fixed on Rowan—wide, unblinking, starving. Rowan barely managed a strangled, "W–wait—!" before the creature unleashed a deafening RRAAAAGHHH!

The swing landed with brutal force.

THUD—CRACK!

Rowan's scream tore out of him: "AAHHH—!" as he was flung backward, slamming into the ground. The telekinetic choke on Wednesday snapped; she collapsed to the dirt, coughing hard, vision swimming.

The monster stepped toward Rowan, its claws rising—long, hooked, wet with its own saliva. A low, guttural groan rattled from its throat as it crouched over him.

Rowan's voice broke into a panicked, raw cry

"HELP—! SOMEBODY—!"

The claws came down.

CLANG!

A hand shot out of the darkness, fingers locking around the creature's wrist.

"Nope," a calm voice said, tightening its grip until the creature snarled. "Not happening."

The monster hissed, Rowan whimpered, and Wednesday's eyes widened at the all-too-familiar voice slicing through the chaos.

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