Chapter 155: Cattles At A Slaughter House

CLARK POV

At the party, as people drank and danced, I sat there like a ghost in the corner—rigid, silent, clutching a plastic cup of something I hadn’t dared to sip. The music throbbed through the walls, through my bones, but I wasn’t feeling the beat. I was too busy watching shadows stretch and shrink across the floor, flickering with the disco lights.

Every time someone laughed too loud or stumbled near me, my heart jumped, convinced it was something else—someone else. A redhead with sharp teeth. A pale guy who didn’t blink. A wolf in a hoodie.

I stared so long at the crowd that the bodies started to blur together. Like an ocean of smiles with empty eyes. Were they all human? Were they even real?

I pulled my hoodie tighter over my head and tried to shrink into the corner.

No one noticed me. They were too busy having the time of their lives. And that made it worse.

Was I going crazy?

I kept thinking maybe I had imagined it all. The girl in the classroom. The man-wolves. The ghost-like guy whispering about "wolves having fun." Maybe I’d fallen asleep and dreamt everything in some twisted post-midnight breakdown. That was the only thing that made sense. Right?

Right?

And yet...

Sara was still nowhere to be found.

She wasn’t on the dance floor anymore. I scanned every inch of it for the tenth time, eyes darting over girls in glitter, boys with devil horns, a couple grinding far too close for comfort—but none of them were her. Not even close.

I checked my phone again. Still no messages. No missed calls. No sign of her.

My stomach twisted.

What if something had happened?

What if the dream wasn’t a dream?

What if I’d brought her here—to this school, this party, this damn nightmare—and I was the one who doomed us both?

I gripped the edge of my seat as another group of students walked by, laughing and bumping into each other, one of them sloshing beer on the floor. It fizzled like blood in my ears. My throat tightened.

I thought of the first time I met Sara. Her bright eyes, her laugh. She had wanted so badly to make memories in college. She trusted me—followed me into this place because I said it would be good. Safe.

Now she was gone.

And I had no idea where to look.

A wave of nausea rose up in my chest.

I couldn’t sit here anymore. I had to get out. Or find her. Or... do something other than sit around and wait for a monster to show up and peel off its skin.

But then came the other problem.

The way back.

I couldn’t even think of walking alone through the halls again. Not after what I saw—or thought I saw—in that old lecture wing. What if I turned a corner and came face to face with those giant shadow dogs again? Or worse, what if I ran into that redhead who called me "delicious"?

No thank you.

I’d take the dance floor over being hunted in some cold, echoing hallway any day.

So I stayed in my seat. Frozen. Stuck between guilt and terror.

The worst part?

I knew this wasn’t just fear.

It was regret.

Pure, burning regret.

I convinced Sara to apply here despite the warnings she got. I hyped up the school’s "unique atmosphere" and "prestigious programs." I thought we’d have fun. Make memories. Maybe even grow closer.

But now?

dream I had—the one where she was being drained by three bloodthirsty guys with red-stained mouths. And the worst part was how she looked like she was enjoying it. Like it was the most blissful moment of her

It haunted me.

my head, trying to snap out of

just found a quieter spot, maybe the bathroom or stepped outside for air. That’s

didn’t

Not really.

a little more, and the shadows got longer across the walls, and the DJ switched to some strange remix that sounded like chanting buried

This wasn’t a party.

Not for us.

at the edge of the slaughterhouse. And only I

eyes on

across the room—but above.

I glanced up, slowly.

Tall. Pale. Eyes like silver coins

hallway. The one who called me "little

He wasn’t smiling.

He was staring.

At me.

already

froze. My chest tightened so hard

blinked, he

Vanished.

up, heart racing. I couldn’t

But my legs refused.

Or cared. Another girl danced like her

Was this even real?

still in

the dance floor, through the

Sara.

it

back was

before. The music didn’t quite reach there. The lights didn’t either.

My stomach turned.

called her name—twice—but she didn’t

doors shut

the music picked up

sweating now, cold drops sliding

What should I do?

alive. She

I’d have to go back into the dark to reach

Back into the unknown.

where monsters might

But leaving her now?

an option

took one last look at the party—the fake smiles, the distorted music, the ever-present smell of blood

I followed

Into the dark.

********

a step after Sara, my wrist was snatched—tight, cold fingers locking around

even have

The redhead was back.

her voice breathy and thick like honey, but it was laced

or call for help, she was

All over me.

cradling the back of my head as she forced her mouth to my neck. I could feel her lips brushing my skin, her breath icy. It wasn’t a kiss. It was something else.

hard to break

She didn’t budge.

looked so delicate—porcelain skin, long lashes, thin arms—have so much strength? She held me like a rag doll, like I weighed nothing. I could feel my heartbeat thundering under

no one was even looking. They were dancing, laughing, drinking, completely

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