Chapter 7: An Awakened Light, A Lurking Dark

Michael tries to fight the gravity that drags him down but without resolution, and before he knows it, he's suddenly in a large and empty classroom, a classroom that doesn't appear similar to the style of Miss Robichaux's. No, the classroom appears different, with Bunsen burners and scientific equipment on the desk and benches.
"This is new," Michael says, jumping at the sound of a screaming woman in a room next door to the one he stands in. "I guess I better see what that was."
Michael wants to run towards the sound of the harrowing screams, but he's treading on unknown ground, he could turn a corner and be faced by an unknown danger, it's better to be vigilant than daring, he'd read that in a book last night while Mallory slept peacefully, in fact, he'd read a lot last night while Mallory slept peacefully. As much as he wanted Mallory awake with him, possibly more than just being awake with him, they'd both gone through so much, especially her, she was the one who drove across the country to enrol them in not just one of the greatest schools in the world, but a school and home for practitioners of magic, something he never know he was until less than twenty-four hours ago. If anyone deserved sleep, it was Mallory, Mallory, Mallory, Mallory, the name just never gets old in Michael's head, never ceases to exist in his mind, even here, wherever this place may be. Michael sneaks out of the classroom he occupies, leisurely and steadfast, entering a remote and seemingly interminable school hallway, he can only conceive how terrific this would be for high school students, however, he continues on his journey, waiting for the next scream to befall if it ever does.
"C'mon, C'mon, I'll be able to get you if you just make one more sound," Michael whispers to himself, his icy blue eyes staring at how unnaturally clean the floor tiles are. "This place gives me the fucking creeps."

Michael only has to wait a few more seconds before the disturbing screams return, however, they come from both directions, making it difficult to track it down, but something inside of Michael is calling out to him, telling him to go right, almost begging him. Michael doesn't savour the feeling, rather contemplating the direction he should take while the screams begin dying out, he has to act fast or he may not get another chance. Letting go of his safety basis, Michael begins shooting down the hallway, ultimately going left and away from the calling, following his own instincts for once, not the voice that calls out from the abyss of his mind, the very thing that got him in this unknown place.
"HOLD ON! I'M COMING FOR YOU! SHOUT OUT, PLEASE! ONE MORE TIME!" Michael screams out to the unknown screamer, before stopping in his tracks, his chest heaving inside and out. "C'MON!"
"PLEASE! HELP ME!" The voice calls out, coming from down the hallway, but this time, the voice is much, much closer. "HELP ME!"
"I'M COMING!" Michael calls back, darting back down the hallway before slipping into one of the classrooms, seeing the source of the screaming. A young woman, older than him but not old by all means, long curly blonde hair and an ethereal appearance, so being so beautiful and yet so terrified by the man holding her arm, an arm with a scalpel in her hand, the man holding her arm is the Teacher, at least Michael presumes. The woman glances at him with desperate and grateful eyes, tears freely flowing down her cheeks like they have a mind of their own, dripping her mascara as the Teacher holds her arm down. "HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!"
"Please, help me!" The woman begs her voice ostensibly worn out from the screams.
The Teacher shifts to face him, his body moving with unnatural swiftness, like a predator turning to face its prey, nevertheless, when the Teacher's eyes reach the sight of Michael, the hardness turns to softness. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?!" The Teacher demands, his voice having an inhuman growl that follows. "You're not supposed to be here."
"I wish I knew, all I know is that you're going to leave her alone, whoever you are," Michael says, demanding commanded cooperation, death-staring the older teacher, begetting bad feelings with this guy. "Take a step back, or else."
"I don't think so," the Teacher hisses, standing his ground as the kids that reside in the room begin rising from their seats.
"No! No, no, no," The woman cries out, the scalpel lowering closer and closer towards a live frog. "Please, no, not again! Please! Not again! PLEASE!"
"Even if you get as far as removing Misty Day from this room, you'll never escape, not with her, without her, you may stand a chance. You're in Hell, boy, her Hell, even someone with your calibre won't last forever in Hell, not unless you-"
"I won't ask again, asshole."
"Are you listening to me, boy?!" The Teacher hisses once more, his eyes shifting into a lifeless black colour, similar to that of his own when he finds himself in a state of rage, something that Mallory has witnessed, he is yet to witness it for himself. The send causes Michael to freeze in place, never before has he observed something like that, such an abnormal sight, so outrageous, so drawing, unnaturally beautiful, at least in his eyes.
"If only those eyes were on someone much more pleasant than you, motherfucker," Michael growls, finding his spine once more, his own eyes changing to the very departed black; the display making Misty wonder which one she should be rooting for, and the Teacher to let go of her hand for the first time in only God knows how long. "I heard what you said, and in response I'm giving you one last chance, leave Misty Day alone, or I will kill you."
"You can't kill me, or any of us for that matter."
"Your desire to test me will, in fact, be your downfall, so watch what you say or do in the next minute, whoever you are. Living or dead, man or creature, you push me far enough and you'll end up beyond the pleasures of this place and somewhere much, much worse. You've been warned, choose your following decision or word wisely."
Hissing like an angry python, the Teacher seizes the scalpel from Misty Day and drives his finger across it with utmost force, slicing his middle finger completely in half and spilling a mass of blood, showing no sign of pain nor fear, not from the scalpel and not from him. Michael grips swiftly onto the nearest beaker and crashes it against one of the benches, shattering it before holding tightly onto a glass shard before digging in his feet, standing his ground before finally, the Teacher rushes towards him with his own harrowing scream.


"Your spirit is cunning, my son, but you- you cannot hide from me forever, Michael. Michael. Michael? Michael! Michael?! MICHAEL? MICHAEL! MICHAEL?!"
Michael's eyes pry open, his body shooting upwards in fear and fury, but a hand suddenly clamps down on his chest, holding him against the soft surface; his bed. As his vision focuses on the being before him, he realises it's Mallory holding him down, there's a feeling of a Telekinetic grip reinforcing her physical touch, unneeded now, the sight of her face and the sound of her voice is soothing him.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're safe, you're with me," Mallory says, surprised by how quickly Michael's hand latches onto her own, softly guiding her hand towards his lips before kissing it lovingly. "You scared me, all of us for that matter, I thought I was never going to see you again."
"I could never leave you, Mals, I promise, no matter what happens I will always come for you. Anyway, um, what- what happened? Where's my shirt?" Michael groans, trying to rise from his bed, only to be stopped by Mallory once again. "What time is it?"
"Hold your horses, cowboy, it's best if you take your time with something like this, as for your shirt it was best you kept as cool as humanly possible, so I took it off. Now it's your turn to answer my question, cowboy, what do you remember?"
"I remember you telling me that my nose was bleeding, following that my head started feeling like it was burning from the inside out, felt like I couldn't breathe properly, the voice in my head, it- well it came back, it was calling out to me. Following that, I don't remember what happened next, at least here, in the world of the conscious. You still haven't told me what time it is, Mals?"
"It's six-thirty-four PM."
"Jesus, I've been out all day?! What the hell happened to me?!"
"You Descended into Hell, Michael, a feat of the Seven Wonders, when you performed your first spell you were in a state of Awakening, it's a rare occurrence to happen to Witches and Warlocks, but as Miss Zoe said, it does happen. However, your Awakening sent your mind subconsciously into Hell, a feat within itself but it doesn't end there, Michael, you Descended into someone else's Hell, the Hell of a former Witch here at Miss Robichaux's."
"Misty Day," Michael mutters. "The woman with curly hair, I found her in a classroom being forced to dissect a frog by a teacher with black eyes, I was trying to get him to leave her alone, but when he attacked me, I blacked out again, I don't recall anything after that. Wait, she's dead? And the school I was in wasn't a part of mind at all, it was- it was Hell? Her Hell. How is that possible?"

Mallory sits frozen in place, she's unsure as to what to say to him, what excuse to make, how to make it sound like she has absolutely no clue why he's able to enter other people's Hells, Michael clueless but he's not stupid, he can tell when you're lying. It appears that keeping the truth from him will be a short-lived task, it's too soon to tell him the truth of his origin and the origin of his abilities, but the time will be sooner rather than later.
"I don't know, it's a gift I've never heard of before, being able to find and enter the personal Hells of other's is an extraordinary feat in itself, but Michael, are you sure you don't remember anything else?"
"No, I wish I could have saved her, I didn't see much of her but, what I did see was how desperately she wanted to get out of there. How long has she been dead?" Michael questions, seemingly disappointed in himself.
"Four years, three months, eleven days, Miss Cordelia has been counting ever since Misty's death, she's special to her and losing her shattered her heart into a thousand pieces," Mallory explains, showing Michael a half smile. "When she performed the Seven Wonders, during Descensum, Misty didn't make it back in time, got stuck in her Hell and has been there ever since, until now."
"Until now?"
Without warning, there's a soft and patient knock on the door, a knock so patient, in fact, it would nearly be a crime to make the knocker wait, after Mallory swings open the door, it is revealed that Kyle and Zoe are the ones waiting for them.
"How is he? Is he okay?" Kyle asks, getting a nod from Mallory, and a groan from Michael. "Good, he'd given everyone one hell of a fright."
"If it's not funny the first time, it won't be funny the fourth," Zoe rolls her eyes at her fiance, focusing back on Mallory. "When did he wake up?"
"A few minutes ago, he's still weakened from the Descend, which is to be expected considering, but he appears to be recovering promptly," Mallory explains, glancing back at Michael, who lays patiently on his bed, a half-printed smile on his face as his icy eyes stare at her. God, how she loves the way he stares, it's a shame it's not an appropriate time to focus primarily on the many things that excite her. "He'll be back on his feet in a few minutes, at least I hope."
"Good, that's good to hear," Zoe smiles, proud of her fellow Witch. Mallory is sure that their teamwork and cooperation had a major effect on soothing Michael's Awakening, lessening the effects and the risks of convulsion and arrest. They really bonded, striking the flame of friendship between them, the trust and loyalty that will follow just as Mallory wanted, just under different circumstances; she'll eventually get close with everyone, it may take some time or no time at all, hey, it's only been a couple nights after all. Any week now, and Coco, her soon to be best friend, should arrive, bringing her own flame and charisma to Miss Robichaux's, adding to the many wonderful and beautiful characters that make up their wonderful home. "Once he's feeling up to it, give Kyle and me a call."
"Why's that?" Mallory asks, glancing at the young couple.
"What have I done?" Michael questions, slightly rising from the bed.
"You've done nothing bad, Michael, I assure you, it's just," Kyle pauses, a large smirk brightening his face. "Miss Cordelia and Misty would like to speak with you."