NovelTrueChapter 150: Blood Cult
Clark POV:
| promised myself I'd never step foot in that ghost-town again. Every gust of wind past broken windows chills me.
Every silent alley whispers of something... cursed. | needed distance from it all. When Sara said she was heading
back to her dorm, | took the chance to stumble my way back to my room, hoping for rest before tonight's fresher
bash—or at least a quiet moment to find Lucas and demand answers.
This campus is built like a labyrinth. Every hallway branches off into another. Every door looks identical, every
sign misleads. My heart beats faster with every wrong turn as if the walls themselves are out to confuse me.
Corridors branch off into identical hallways. Doors look the same. Every turn makesfeel one misstep from
being lost forever.
| paused at a deserted wing—long hallway, flickering overhead lights, no sign of life. Silence so heavy it pressed
against my head. | thought | heard soft breathing ahead—just when a scream sliced through the air like a blade.
It froze me.
A girl’s scream. So filled with terror it felt like her soul was tearing apart. Every instinct screamed stop, but
human decency—or stupid curiosity—drewcloser to the classroom door.
| pressed my ear to the cold wood. Her cries twisted, from panic to something unhinged—moans that made my
stomach coil. | shook my head—didn’t want to listen—but something darker inside pushedto look.
| forced myself to peek through the upper glass pane. Light from inside hit the scene: a girl sprawled face down
on what must've been a teacher's desk, her limbs unnaturally still. Around her, three figures loomed—two with
dark hair | couldn't clearly see, One was kissing her neck. But there was no tenderness—just darkness, the other
one was between her legs kissing | think her inner thigh, and the third one a blonde whose jaw and posture cut
through my bones. The blonde bent over her the third—the one I'll never forget—gripped her wrist, head bent
swiftly. At first, | thought he was kissing it—but then, rippling crimson dripped from his jaw. This wasn’t affection.
It was feeding. His jaw glistened with blood. Was it his or someone else’s?The others hovered over her thighs—
moaning—a distorted hunger twisted on their faces.
My breath caught. My heart thudded. This wasn’t cruelty—it was a carnage masquerading as... ritual? Their
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtenjoyment sent ice through my veins.
Then, the blonde shifted. His head turned toward the door—almost as if he smelledeven before seeing me.
Panic steeredback, too slow—he was going to catch me.
Suddenly, a large hand slammed over my mouth. | tumbled backward, crashing against a chest so hard | nearly
knocked the air out of my lungs. Everything spun. | gasped silently into strong muscle until the pressure
softened. They say curiosity killed the cat. At that moment | knew—they were right. This is where I'd die.
| tried to scream but couldn't. A hand pressed into my back—firm, commanding. | thought: they’re finishing me
here.
Then cthe voice | recognized from before—the voice of that senior who had almost caughthacking into
the university sysabout the Wi-Fi security. Slow and cold:
"I told you, kid—this place doesn't like loners."
He hadn't even looked at the scene. He'd pulledto him shielding? Or hiding something more dangerous.
His body was rigid. His arms lockedgently but unwaveringly. His presence... it chilled me.
"You've got a very... peculiar scent, kid," he murmured so softly only | heard—then easedbackward, holding
My mind reeled. Was he sniffing me? As if | was the prize? The man behind remained expressionless, uneasy. His
grip loosened, but he keptpinned against his chest. | could hear my own heartbeat hammering.
| froze. Was he going to do what they just did? Drain me? The girl's moans echoed in my memory. Blood pulsed
hot through my ears. Then the door swung open fully—and the blond returned: jaw stained, lips crimson, and
sharp pale features lit by fluorescence. If not for the blood, he'd have looked like a runway model. Now he looked
predatory, satisfied, amused.
"Reed," he said, with that shaunting smile—"I see you're already hunting."
I spun my head slightly. The sblonde | spied earlier stood fully revealed: pale skin that contrasted with deep
red stains on his lips and chin, blood still dripping. If it weren't for the gore, he might have looked like a male
model. There was a smile—cold, amused, hungry.
That predator looked right at me—smiling. | didn’t breathe.
Before | had tto process, the man holdingshifted his head slightly. His hand eased from my mouth and
gently curled around mine, like a parent guiding a child. | was still reeling, but he said just one sentence:
"Sorry for disturbing you guys."
Then: "Calong, kid." He guidedaway from the door—or maybe away from the memory itself.
Every step was dizzying. My legs trembled. Did | flee, or was | being led into something worse?
Every nerve in my body screamed. I'd left the classroom door behind, but the scream remained squeezed in my
mind. Was the girl alive? Where was Lucas? Why was Reed—Reed—leadinginstead of stopping the others?
I stumbled past doors etched with unfamiliar numbers, through dim corridors lit by flickering fluorescents. Each
hum sounded like a heartbeat counting down.
Reed didn’t speak again. He held my hand—with a strength | didn’t expect. His fingers were cold. We passed
intersections. Shadows lengthened.
Something heavy followed my chest—a dread that we weren't walking toward safety but deeper into unknown
territory.
Eventually, he cto a wide stairwell. He kept pullingdownward, past levels | hadn't seen in the
registration maze. The scent of antiseptic and must assaulted me. Each footstep echoed loudly in the emptiness.
| glanced back once. No sign of Sara’s group. No lights from dorm windows. No Lucas. Only the faint trace of
screams that had morphed into gurgles and silence.
Every step felt surreal. The smell of damp carpet invaded me. Darkness pressed close. Reed didn’t speak. He just
walked, hand firmly in mine.
We passed dozens of silent doors. The hallway felt alive—walls seemed to breathe. Every corner whispered
threats. | strained to look back—expecting lights, bodies, or chaos. Nothing. Only Reed, calm, guiding me
forward.
We walked past old offices with doors ajar—papers scattered, strange stains. Something darker stained their
floor. | kept walking, fearing each doorway—but unwilling to run.
Then ahead, a sudden light: a plush lounge | hadn't known existed. Warm lamps. But something was off—like a
plush den obscured in shadow.
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