All Chapters of Ashwyck Academy for the Damned: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Maldric:The stone walls of my cell wept in silence. Condensation gathered like tears, trickling down the veins of black rock carved by hands that once worshiped me. I sat in the center of the circle — etched sigils glowing faintly, their crimson hue pulsing with each heartbeat I no longer possessed. This prison had been built to outlast centuries, to outlast me. But it would not.It was quiet in the lowest depths of the Academy. No laughter, no footsteps, no life. Only the deep groan of the old stones shifting above and the faint hum of the ancient gates — living things of iron and blood, tightened closed with each thought of escape. My talons, long since blunted by clawing at these walls, dragged lightly across the symbols burned into my flesh. Binding marks. Mortis Grimm’s voice whispered from memory: You will not take another soul, incubus. You will rot beneath our feet.I smiled to myself in the dark. Mortis, Nerine, Cressida, Luno — the four founders. Their names were etched int

Rhett:The wards are gone.I can feel it in my teeth, in the marrow of my bones, in the way the night outside presses too close against the Academy walls. The protective hum that usually thrums through these stones—like a heartbeat beneath the floor—is silent now, gutted, stolen. And in its absence, every dark thing beyond the gates has scented blood.The howls start first. High, piercing wails that shred the air like broken glass. Banshees. Their screams crawl under my skin, vibrating against my ribs until my wolf snarls in defiance. Then comes the rumble—the ground itself shuddering with the thunder of hooves. Minotaurs. Their musk of blood and iron already fouls the wind. And somewhere deeper, quieter, the scrape of claws on stone. Oni. Lurking. Patient. Monsters of patience are the ones you never see until their teeth are already inside you.I stalk through the hallway, muscles tight, fists clenched. My wolf paces behind my skin, begging to be let out, to hunt. But this isn’t the

IsadoraThe room smelled of rain and bloodshed.I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers pressed to the cold nightstand, as lightning stitched its jagged seams across the black sky. Thunder rolled in like a war drum, and with it came the groans and wails of a world that had been shut out until tonight. Banshees howled somewhere in the distance, their cries sliding down the stone walls like knives. The Academy’s wards had fallen, and everything I’d been told was legend now stalked our halls.I felt it all in my blood, in the strange power that pulsed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat. My stomach churned with hunger—not for food, but for something else, something darker. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe.The door burst open.Kai stumbled in first, pale as chalk, his coat torn and smeared with ash. His light magic flickered faintly along his fingertips, a guttering candle on the edge of extinguishing. He didn’t even look at me; he staggered across the room and collapsed onto my be

Kai:Sleep doesn’t come easy anymore. Not when the wards are broken, when screams bleed through the night like a second heartbeat. Not when I know too much.Tonight, I give in. Im too exhausted, too weak to carry on another minute in this hellscape. I sprawl on my narrow mattress, books and notes scattered across the floor, my veins humming with exhaustion. Candlelight flickers low, shadows shudder against the walls. Somewhere beyond the glass, the storm is still raging, battering the towers like fists against a coffin lid.And when I close my eyes—I fall.Not into dreams. Into something worse.The scriptorium’s shelves stretch endlessly before me, though the wood is blackened, charred, dripping blood like resin. Books breathe here, parchment wheezing with every turn of a page. Their voices overlap, discordant, a thousand-throated dirge.She walks with fire, war in skin…She’ll bleed to forge an age unknown…Prophecy coils in the air like smoke, clogging my lungs, slicking my palms w

Rhett:Dawn crept over the academy like a funeral shroud.The storm had raged all night, splitting the heavens with thunder, tearing at the ancient grounds until only their bones remained. Every nightmare that had waited in the woods, in the shadows, beneath the earth—every monster with teeth sharp enough to rend the world—had come pouring into our sanctuary.And she had met them all.Isadora.I watched her fight until my body ached with the need to tear through the stone and join her. Watched her stand in the rain, hair wild and plastered to her skin, eyes burning with something more than mortal. Watched her wield our magic—the wolf in her muscles, Lucian’s hunger in her pulse, Kai’s light searing from her hands, Silas’s shadows licking her skin like armor.She fought until hours meant nothing. Until the night bled itself into gray dawn.And when the sun finally rose, burning weakly through the fog, the courtyard lay in ruin.Bodies. Carnage. A battlefield soaked in monster blood.An