The rain fell hard that night, like the sky itself was trying to drown out something it could no longer ignore. Amara sat on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by open books, candles, and the haunting diary of Elara Voss. She couldn't sleep. Not after what she read. Not after what she saw.
The woman who stood at the front of the classroom with her perfect figure and icy smile wasn't just hiding a secret.
She was the secret.
And now Amara carried a part of it in her spirit.
Her hands trembled as she flipped back through the diary. Each page a confession, a wound, a silent scream stitched in ink. Elara had been beautiful once. Loved, adored, worshipped even. Until she met him—the witch in disguise. The man who wasn't a man. The lover who promised her freedom and gave her a curse with a heartbeat.
"You will never give birth, but you will always carry. When the full moon smiles, it will demand flesh. And if you deny it… it will take yours."
Amara exhaled shakily.
It was no longer just about exposing the truth.
It was about survival.
A knock shattered her focus. She jumped.
It was her grandmother.
"Amara?" her voice was soft but sharp. "Why is your light still on?"
"I'm reading," Amara lied.
There was a pause.
"Be careful, child. Tonight is not for the restless."
Amara froze.
She waited until footsteps faded before whispering to herself, "What do you know, grandma…?"
—
The next morning, the school buzzed with tension. Elara had returned.
And she was glowing.
Her skin shimmered under the hallway lights. Her heels clicked louder than usual. She wore a red velvet dress that hugged her like a second skin. And her eyes—they weren't gold anymore. They were storm-gray, deep and knowing.
Students whispered.
Boys drooled.
Teachers avoided eye contact.
But Amara watched her every move. She saw the faint outline of the swollen belly beneath the glamour. The way Elara winced subtly as she turned. The way her fingers twitched near mirrors.
The curse was close to breaking.
And she was losing control.
At lunch, Amara met Micah near the back stairwell.
"She's almost full-term," she whispered.
Micah looked sick. "She shouldn't even be able to walk."
"It's not normal. It's magic trying to birth itself."
Micah glanced around nervously. "We need to warn someone."
"We can't. No one will believe us. Not unless we show them."
"You want to… expose her?"
Amara hesitated. "No. I want to trap her."
Micah blinked. "You're insane."
"She's dangerous, Micah. If she gives birth under the full moon, that child won't be human. It will be a vessel. A new curse. A living plague."
He didn't argue.
Instead, he handed her a small black box.
"What's this?"
"A mirror shard. From the music room. My mom enchanted it to show true forms."
Amara took it gently, the glass pulsing like a heartbeat in her palm.
"I think it's time the school saw who Miss Voss really is."
—
The plan was simple.
At 7:55 PM, just before Elara would excuse herself and vanish for her nightly transformation, Amara would confront her.
Alone.
In the old auditorium.
With the enchanted mirror.
But nothing about this curse had ever gone to plan.
When Amara entered the auditorium, she was met not by Elara…
…but by mirrors.
Dozens of them.
Lining the stage.
Each one warped, tall, cracked.
Each one reflecting not her—but Elara's twisted form—pregnant, monstrous, eyes glowing like moons.
Then Elara's voice echoed from the shadows:
"You shouldn't be here, child."
Amara turned, gripping the mirror shard.
"You lied to everyone."
Elara stepped into the light. Her illusion melted away. The pregnant belly, round and glowing. Her eyes burned.
"I protected them."
"No, you used them."
Elara tilted her head. "And what have you done, little shaman's daughter? Spied? Stolen? Judged?"
"I saw the diary. I saw the truth."
Elara's lips curled. "You saw pain. You don't know what I gave up to escape the life they chained me to. That witch… he promised me the stars. Instead, he left me with a womb full of curses."
"You deserve to suffer—"
Elara's scream cut through the air like a blade. The mirrors trembled. The ground quaked. And then—
The glass exploded.
Amara shielded herself as shards flew. When she looked up, Elara was kneeling, clutching her belly.
"It's… starting," she moaned. "You've brought it early!"
Amara rushed forward, holding the shard high.
The light struck Elara—and her form split.
One version of her—beautiful, glowing.
The other—hunched, monstrous, mouth wide with shadow, belly swelling with smoke.
"Help me!" the human form cried.
"Kill me!" the monster hissed.
Amara screamed.
And the lights went out.
—
When she woke, she was in the nurse's office.
Micah was beside her, eyes wild.
"What happened?"
"You blacked out. The janitor found you. The auditorium's mirrors… all shattered. No one knows where Miss Voss is."
Amara sat up slowly.
But she knew.
She felt it.
The curse was inside the school now.
Moving.
Growing.
And the full moon was only two nights away.