Scholomance 9 by Logan Jacobs (inspirational books to read txt) 📗

all around, and a steel sky hovered above me. The air was cool and smelled metallic, like fresh blood. Whenever I was, it felt like home. It was the opposite of the elder heavens, and its pure darkness brought a sense of melancholiac peace to my busy mind. I could hear the laughter from hell as the ground trembled beneath my boots, and I knew the souls of the inferno were celebrating. I couldn’t tell if this was a direct message from Satan himself, but I would take my unholy blessings whenever I could.

But suddenly, my beautiful dream was violently disturbed. I awoke with a start, and ice-cold fingers were tightening around my throat. It was damn near impossible to open my eyes, but when I did, I saw a shadowy figure hovering above me.

She was as white as a ghost, with golden wings and piercing blue eyes. She had no facial features, aside from her sockets, and it reminded me of a lifeless doll. Her tight hold on me was growing stronger, and my body was paralyzed.

“Hello, Cole,” she said, and her voice was a soft echo. “Samara sent me to destroy you before you could even come close to her domain. Now tell me… are you prepared to die? Your time has been long past due, and I’ve come to collect your soul and send it where no one will ever be able to retrieve it.”

Her eyes burned brighter as she stared down at me, and soon, I could feel myself fading from this world and from those I loved with all my heart.

Was this the end?

Chapter 16

The grip on my throat tightened, and it felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my sockets. Whatever this pale, faceless entity was, I didn’t think the others could see it since no one stirred in their sleep or even opened their eyes. The entire tent spun, and I couldn’t move, breathe, or think. All I could do was stare blankly at the ghost above me.

Samara says she can feel the life draining from you, the shadow remarked in a cold echo in my head, and its blue eyes burned like the sun. She says she can’t wait until the other women wake up and find you cold and lifeless in their arms. But don’t worry, once they do… their hearts will also stop.

The idea of my coven dying made my blood boil with rage, and I desperately wanted to fight back, but my body was paralyzed. In the back of my mind, I tried to reach for the woman in my dreams, but I couldn’t feel her presence. My head was a clean slate, just an empty void begging to return to life. Blood filled my mouth, and all I could feel was myself fading away, like mist in a summer field, but there was still a flame of fight left within me. With all my willpower, I focused on the flicker of fire still alight inside my soul, and I searched for something in the back of my mind. I needed to fight back somehow, and that was when I thought of my shadow.

I swiftly pictured his overwhelming presence, his unwavering strength, and I remembered every detail of his tall, shadowy frame. He was a red, dim reflection of me, and his supremacy was mine. His magic belonged to me because we were the same, and I knew if I tried hard enough, he would hear my pleas and come running to my aid. So, with everything I had left in me, I forced myself to close my eyes and focus on his red, wispy frame and long red horns. I thought of his glowing yellow eyes, broad chest, and the same facial features we shared. I even considered his deep, echoing voice, and I mentally imagined him inside the tent, ready to tear this mysterious entity into shreds.

My vision was blurred, my head pounded with agony, but I pushed it aside, and when I could feel Satan’s power surging back into my bones, I closed my eyes and uttered the curse to bring my twin back to my side.

Ego in vtero producite.

Suddenly, a violent wind whipped through the tent and sent the covers and blankets flying everywhere. The atmosphere quickly shifted, and the dusky angel above me turned its head around and stared at the red shadow hovering behind us. Then, before Samara’s servant knew what was happening, my other half soared toward it as quick as a spell and gripped its wispy white neck by his long red talons. My crimson, devilish double bared his dagger-like teeth, and he growled as he fiercely yanked the angel of death backward as hard as he could.

The holy creature’s searing blue eyes widened with realization when it knew it had met its match. Both beings were made of smoke and ancient magic, and when my shadow pulled the angel off me, he sank his wolf-like fangs deep into the shadowy white neck and gnawed. The mysterious ivory obscuration let out a petrified scream that sounded like the highest-pitched cry I’d ever heard. My eardrums felt like they were going to pop, and I covered my ears until my shadow cut its head completely off.

Then all was silent.

When the angel was dead, all feeling suddenly returned to my body. I greedily gulped for air and shot up before I stared at my double with awe and appreciation. That was when my coven all jerked awake, and their eyes widened when they saw my shadow holding onto a white, bloody, and faceless head. Then they turned to look at me, covered their mouths with their hands, and suppressed their terrified screams.

“M-Master!” Akira breathed, and her black eyes were fixated on my throat. “There’s a deep red handprint on your neck, and you’re bleeding! What happened?”

“I-I’m fine,” I grunted, but