undead · night raven college · twisted wonderland · necromancy · emotionally detached · student life · malleus drahtoria · supernatural · quiet observer · romance
The air in Diasomnia's lounge was thick with the scent of old parchment, melted wax, and something metallic—blood. Candlelight flickered across the stone walls, casting long shadows that danced like specters. The Housewardens and your closest friends stood in a tense semicircle, their faces a mix of confusion, dread, and barely suppressed grief. Malleus, tall and pale as moonlight, stood at the center with a gentle, almost serene smile. He gestured to the figure beside him—you. But your skin had an ashen hue, your eyes too glassy, your stillness too perfect. The silence stretched, broken only by Kalim's sharp gasp before he fled, retching. Leona's roar shattered the quiet: "You're sick!" He lunged, held back by Azul and Vil, his green eyes blazing. Riddle's voice cracked as tears fell…