16/3/2024
Christopher jolted upright in bed, his breath ragged, the echo of fire still flickering behind his eyes. The dream had been so vivid—too vivid. He could still hear the chanting, smell the smoke curling through the air. But it was the girl who haunted him most.
She had stood before him, her expression grave, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding her.
"You must find the book," she had said. "The Obsidian Codex is the missing piece of the puzzle. If you don't retrieve it in time, the world as you know it will end."
Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone, swallowed by the flames.
Christopher ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. What the hell did that mean?
In the school cafeteria, Sunmi, Eamon, Moses, and Tolu sat at their usual spot. Lunch was halfway over when Eamon leaned back in his chair, stirring his drink.
"So… where's Mirabel?" he asked, glancing at Sunmi.
Sunmi shrugged, keeping her voice casual. "She's sick. Couldn't come to school."
Eamon frowned. "Sick? Wow ! If I'm not mistaken this is the first time mirabel is calling it sick."
Sunmi smiled." I know right . Always an over achiever."
Then Eamon's gaze flickered to Tolu. "What about Christopher? He hasn't been in school either."
Tolu, who had been scrolling through her phone, froze. Her fingers clenched slightly before she plastered on a nonchalant expression.
"Oh, he… um, he went back to the UK. Family visit."
A lie. A carefully crafted one. No one knew the truth—that Christopher had died because of her, and then somehow, impossibly, returned. And now? He wanted nothing to do with her.
Sunmi sighed dramatically. "Lucky him. Half British and all. Some people have all the luck." She attempted a mock British accent. "Would you like some tea, darling?"
Eamon chuckled, and the tension at the table eased—for now.
Tolu's phone buzzed with another message. She glanced at it and sighed.
"My mom's busy," she announced. "So I have to pick up my brothers."
Moses raised an eyebrow. "I thought your mom had, like, ten assistants."
"She does," Tolu replied dryly. "But when it comes to family, she insists on handling things herself—except today, apparently."
Sunmi smirked. "You could just hire a housemaid."
Tolu shot her a look. "You know my mom hates maids. Besides, I'm woman enough to run a house. Not every rich person is a pampered princess like you, Sunmi."
Sunmi scoffed but grinned, accepting the playful jab. "Well, a princess gets things done without all that fuss."
Eamon chuckled. "And yet, somehow, this conversation always turns into an argument."
Understood. Here's the revised scene with Christopher using French commands, each followed by its English translation for clarity:
---
Tolu rushed through the school gates, her heels clicking against the pavement. The midday sun glared down, but she barely noticed. Her mind was focused on one thing—getting her brothers home.
She spotted Taiwo first, standing outside, kicking a stone absentmindedly.
"Where's Kehinde?" she asked, glancing around.
Taiwo lifted a hand and pointed toward the school building. "Inside."
Tolu sighed and hurried toward the entrance.
Inside, the hallways were nearly empty, the usual chatter of students replaced with an eerie silence. She turned a corner and saw Kehinde standing at the far end of the hall.
"Kehinde!" she called, quickening her pace.
But the moment their eyes met, he bolted.
"What the hell?" Tolu muttered under her breath before taking off after him.
Kehinde was fast, weaving through desks and chairs as he led her into an empty classroom. The door swung shut behind them with an eerie creak.
"Kehinde, what is wrong with you?" she snapped, stepping forward.
Before she could get any closer, a single word filled the air.
"Disparais." ("Disappear.")
Tolu barely had time to process the command before Kehinde vanished before her eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"What the fuck?"
Then another command, "Assieds-toi." ("Sit down.")
A chair from the far side of the room slid across the floor on its own, stopping right in front of her. Before she could react, her legs buckled, and she was forced into the seat by an unseen force.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
Then came a third command.
"Ne bouge pas." ("Don't move.")
A shiver ran down her spine as her body locked in place, muscles stiff, completely immobilized.
And then, that voice.
That damn voice.
Smooth. British. Dripping with mockery.
"Hello, love."
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the dim classroom light.
Christopher.
He smiled, head tilting slightly, as if she were the one intruding.
"As much as I appreciate you running right into my trap," he said, his tone laced with amusement, "I was hoping you'd put up more of a fight."
Tolu clenched her jaw, rage burning in her chest.
Christopher had planned this. Every step. Every word.
---
"What the actual hell, Christopher? Are you crazy?" Tolu snapped, struggling against the invisible force holding her in place.
Christopher smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Crazy? No, love. Just desperate."
Tolu glared at him. "What do you want?"
His smile faded, replaced by something colder. "The book."
Her brows furrowed. "What book?"
Christopher let out a mocking laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, you know. The Big Book of Boo-Boo." Then his face darkened, and his voice turned sharp as a blade. "The fucking Grimoire. The obsidian codex . The one that turned you into a monster."
Tolu's blood ran cold.
"I don't have it anymore," she said firmly. "I threw it into a river."
Christopher froze. His jaw clenched, and for a long moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to decide whether she was lying. Then, in an instant, his fury erupted.
"You threw the most fucking dangerous grimoire in the world into a river? Are you out of your bloody mind?!"
Tolu's hands balled into fists. "I had to get rid of it! You saw what it did to me!"
Christopher took a step closer, eyes blazing. "Do you even know what you've done?"
Tolu lifted her chin. "Yes. I saved myself."
Christopher let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. He was seething. "That book could be anywhere now."
"It probably sank to the bottom," Tolu shot back. "The river leads into the ocean. There's no way to track it."
Christopher exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. Then he looked at her, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "I need that book."
Tolu narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
His expression darkened. "Because if we don't find it… the world might end."
Silence hung between them.
For the first time since this confrontation started, Tolu felt a different kind of fear.
"What the hell are you talking about?" she whispered.
Christopher's gaze didn't waver.
"I had a dream," he said. "A warning. And if we don't get that book back… everything we know will burn."
Tolu exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. She hated what she was about to suggest, but if Christopher was right—if the world really was in danger—then she had no choice.
"I know something that might help," she said reluctantly. "But… it involves a lot of dark magic."
Christopher's eyes gleamed with interest, but he noticed the hesitation in her voice. "You don't sound thrilled about it."
"Because I'm not." Tolu crossed her arms. "I wouldn't even consider this if there was another way."
Christopher studied her for a moment, then smirked. "Alright, then. What's the plan?"
"Meet me in my garden at midnight."
Christopher raised a brow but didn't argue. "Fine. But if this is a setup to kill me again, I'll be very disappointed."
Tolu opened her mouth to respond—only to realize she still couldn't move. She was still bound to the chair by Christopher's spell.
He chuckled, tilting his head. "Oh, right. You're still stuck."
With a lazy wave of his hand, he murmured, "Bouge."
The invisible force that held her loosened instantly, and Tolu stumbled forward slightly before regaining her balance. She glared at Christopher, but he only gave her a mocking salute before vanishing.
---
Midnight in the Garden
The air was thick with magic, buzzing like static electricity. The garden, illuminated by the pale glow of the moon, felt eerily still.
Christopher strolled in, hands in his pockets, whistling softly. His sharp eyes scanned the area, sensing the countless spells layered into the very ground beneath his feet. Protection, concealment, and—if needed—destruction. He smirked.
"This place is so fortified," he mused, glancing around. "I swear, even the dust here has magic in it. You could take out a thousand men just by sneezing."
Tolu stood waiting for him, her arms crossed, a small piece of parchment in her hand. Without a word, she handed it to him.
Christopher unfolded the paper and read it.
His smirk faded. His expression darkened. He looked up at her, disbelief in his eyes.
"You've got to be joking."
Tolu met his gaze, unwavering. "If the world is truly ending like you said, then this is a small price to pay."
Christopher clenched his jaw. "A small price? You're asking me to—"
"You can regenerate now," Tolu cut in. "You escaped hell, Christopher. You're practically a demon. You're immortal. Indestructible. Whatever part of your body we need to sacrifice… it'll grow back."
Christopher exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That doesn't mean it won't hurt."
Tolu smirked. "Then don't scream too loud."
Christopher huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Tolu shrugged. "A little."
Christopher rolled his eyes and took a step back. "This better be worth it."
Then, without warning, the temperature around them plunged.
A low, guttural whisper curled through the air, like embers crackling in a dying fire. The grass beneath Christopher's feet blackened and charred, twisting into ash. The scent of sulfur burned in the air as glowing embers flickered into existence, swirling around him.
Then—whoosh.
The embers erupted into a roaring inferno, twisting into jagged, claw-like flames that spiraled around Christopher's form. His silhouette flickered between the fire, his golden eyes glowing through the darkness.
"See you soon, love," he murmured.
And with a final surge of heat, the flames collapsed inward, swallowing Christopher whole—leaving nothing but a patch of scorched earth where he had stood.
The night fell silent.
Tolu let out a slow breath.
"Dramatic asshole."
The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay. The four dead goats lay in a perfect circle, their lifeless bodies twisted unnaturally, eyes gouged out. Their entrails, slick with crimson, were arranged meticulously into a pentagram, the ritual symbol glistening under the pale moonlight.
Christopher knelt at the center, his breathing steady but laced with anticipation. A single piece of parchment lay before him, its ancient words scrawled in jagged ink. He held a dagger in his hands, its curved blade gleaming ominously.
"For ye to receive sight… ye has to be blind."
His voice was even as he read from the paper. He exhaled.
Then, without hesitation—schlick.
The blade plunged into his left eye.
A strangled gasp tore from his throat, but he did not scream. His grip tightened on the dagger as he dug deeper, twisting the steel until the ruined organ came free. Blood spilled down his cheek, warm and thick.
Again.
The second eye followed, his world plunging into suffocating darkness. The pain was unbearable, like fire and ice slicing through his skull, but he forced himself to move. With trembling fingers, he placed both eyes at the very center of the pentagram, their milky orbs staring sightlessly into the void.
His voice, strained yet commanding, echoed through the night:
"I summon the All-Seeing Eye—tear a hole into the sky. Reveal to me not the forbidden, but unveil to me what is hidden."
The moment the words left his lips, the earth trembled.
A deep, guttural hum resonated in the air, vibrating through his bones. Above, the moon began to shift. The silver glow distorted, twisting unnaturally—until it blinked.
The moon had become an eye. A massive, celestial iris, staring down at him with a gaze that burned through reality itself.
Then, pain—blinding pain.
Christopher convulsed, his body arching as something opened in the center of his forehead.
An eye.
A third eye, burning with ethereal energy. It saw everything—past, present, and hidden truths woven between time itself. Visions flooded his mind in chaotic bursts, unraveling secrets buried beneath the fabric of the universe.
His body couldn't handle it.
He collapsed.
---
The Vision
He was no longer in the garden.
He saw himself—somewhere else.
A river. A book. The grimoire.
A hooded figure, cloaked in shadows, hovered over the water. Christopher watched as the figure extended their hand, and with a mere flick of their fingers, the book rose—floating effortlessly into their grasp.
Christopher moved, following silently. The figure strode forward, their dark robes billowing, until they approached something monstrous.
A gargoyle.
No, not a gargoyle—something worse.
It was one of Onome's mold creatures—a towering, winged beast sculpted from hardened earth and malice. Its hollow eyes bore no soul, only the will of its master.
The figure handed the book to the creature. Without hesitation, it unfurled its massive wings and took flight, soaring toward a rift—a shimmering tear in space itself.
Christopher acted on instinct. He leapt forward, following it into the rift.
The world warped, twisting violently—until he was somewhere else.
Somewhen else.
---
1858
The past.
Christopher stood on the outskirts of a ritual site, hidden in the shadows. Before him, a young woman—Ese.
The mold creature landed gracefully, presenting the book before her. Ese took it carefully, her fingers gliding over the worn leather cover.
Beside her stood another figure. Onome.
Onome turned, watching as the creature retreated into the rift, obeying her silent command.
Ese finally spoke, her voice calm yet laced with something unreadable.
"You've done well," she said to Onome.
She turned her gaze toward the book, a slow smile creeping onto her lips.
"Now… time for Phase Two."
---
Christopher jerked awake, gasping for air. His body was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged.
He scrambled to touch his face—his vision had returned. His eyes had regenerated.
His fingers traced his forehead. The third eye was gone.
For a moment, he sat in silence, his pulse hammering. The visions still flickered in his mind, haunting and vivid.
Then, a single curse escaped his lips.
"Shit."
He swallowed hard.
"Why does it have to be Ese?"