The Faceless Children

In the wake of the failed ritual, Mortius had returned to his studies and tried to make the days pass as usual, though the ever present threat of the possible consequences loomed over him like a shadow. Twisting and churning feelings in his gut gave a sickly reminder of how he felt during that ritual, and the clouded thoughts in his head that taunted him of his failure made the feelings all the more worse. He tried his best to continue his studies as normal, putting on a steely face and attending a few functions with Clive to feel better. Going to all the after-hours lessons with Cuig proved to be a more helpful distraction, but the growing part of his mind that was so certain that something came from that spell continued to question everything about it. Was he absolutely sure that it didn’t work? The image of the man’s silhouette refused to leave his thoughts alone, nor did the memory of the mirror that emerged from the ritual. Ever since the spell ended, a lingering ripple from the aftermath of the power he exerted in that ritual covered his hands like needles, constantly jabbing at his nerves. A magical imprint left behind that only fuelled his doubts that all was well and fine. The feeling was a pain in his mind, but going to the Priestess for it would likely earn him more trouble if she found out what the cause was. Nothing gets past that woman. Mortius sat in his History class, entertaining some of his burning questions, until the light went again and everyone began packing up. Slowly, he put away his books and notes and went out the door, heading off to his after hours class with Cuig.

“Staff…”

Mortius stumbled a little, whipping his head around. Confused, he looked up and down the hallway for any sign of other students but there were none. He looked down one way, seeing nothing but the railings and the wooden floor, stretching off to the far corner of the floor. He craned his neck slowly, looking back down the other side and still seeing nothing. It was eerily quiet up here. He kept a vigilant ear out, but summed it up to nothing more than his own imagination as he continued walking towards the classroom. He opened the classroom door and was surprised to see nobody there, looking around and instead seeing some shuffling of papers behind Cuig’s desk. Walking towards it, Mortius heard the sound of Cuig mumbling to himself and scratching around. He knocked on the top of the desk, prompting a heavy thudding and a small rumbling from the wood as a pained cry shot out from under the desk. Cuig’s balding head slowly emerged, along with the rest of him, as he rubbed his head and grumbled in annoyance. He looked up to see who startled him and quickly calmed down.

“Oh, Sir Maleos. Good to see you, son. It’s nice to know you’re taking these after hours lessons seriously but… I’m afraid that there won’t be any lessons for today”, Cuig mumbled, clearing up his desk and picking up the items on the floor. Mortius was baffled, not only by the cancellation of the lessons but at Cuig’s demeanour as well. The dramatic flair that he normally displayed like a colourful bird had only a simple white shirt in its place. Wrinkles that weren’t usually there folded all over his face, frowning for him no matter how stoic he looked. His walk was short and lacked its usual bounce as his feet marched in perfect order to his destinations, not allowing for any of his previous elan to shine through. It was unlike Cuig to lose all his enthusiasm in a lesson and what could be so important that he would cancel one of his lessons? The thought quickly occurred to him that perhaps this was one of the consequences of the spell. There was no way that something of that magnitude could have gone on without the faculty knowing about it, and it was unlikely that even the cover of the Void Pools would be enough to keep away a magical outburst like that.

“What’s going on, sir?”, Motius asked.

“Ah, well. The High Scholar has instigated a lockdown of sorts on the school. Nobody is to be outside of their common areas after 4pm, so I would hastily get to the Pools if I were you.”

Lockdown? This became ever more worrying. The aftermath of the spell felt like it was unraveling before him and Mortius’ mind was racing. He felt the need to contain this somehow, but there was nothing that came to his mind to fix this now. All he could do at this point was follow the instructions given and wait things out back in the Pools. He nodded at Cuig and turned around, setting off for the circle lounge.

“Mortius…”

There it was again. The cold, raspy whisper that brushed Mortius’ ear with a foreboding chill. He tried his best to close his ears and mind off from it, but the whisper invaded without remorse, forcing him to acknowledge it whether he wished it or not. His eyes swirled around slightly, trying to see the whole room without alerting Cuig but he saw nothing.

“Oh and... be careful, Maleos. The High Scholar is concerned, so that means we should all be.”

Mortius nodded at Cuig again and left the classroom. On his way down, he considered everything he’d been told and only became even more worried. He looked around as the compartment doors slowly slid open to his destination, showing a very empty Study Hall and a sign on one of the boards on the other side of the room.

‘All students must immediately be in their circle sectors after lessons for a head count. The Library, Social Hall and Study Hall will remain closed after 4pm and any student wishing to go to the Vaults must require Scholar supervision.’ This was even more intense than he expected. He could hear the sound of his breathing under the cover of his closed mouth in the empty silence, and the neatly placed empty chairs and tables seemed even more ominous than usual. Mortius began to walk outside but was soon interrupted by a man approaching from the side, not standing in his way but cutting him off from leaving. 

“Oh, Maleos! Didn’t see you there!”, said the High Scholar Horvath with a warm, welcoming smile. Strange for a man who was supposed to be very worried and on high alert.

“Hello sir, I was just going to the Void Pools…”

“Yes, I am aware. I’m sorry about the current state but, all things considered, this is the only way the faculty and I can safely conduct our searches of the Institute.”

Mortius frowned slightly, trying his best to look more confused than concerned. As soon as he heard the word ‘searches’ his heart rate shot up and his breathing was getting faster. He didn’t want Horvath to know about what happened or even get any ideas that might lead to questions about Mortius’ whereabouts.

“Use...the staff…”

These whispers were becoming a supreme annoyance as Mortius’ eyes quickly darted away into the distance, taking a brief second to search out the owner of that damn voice. Though Mortius was quick, he wasn’t quick enough to escape Horvath’s notice, who was looking at him with a now confused face.

“Is everything alright?”, he asked.

Mortius kept silent for a few seconds. He felt like this was something that needed to be said, what with the lockdown and Horvath’s concerns, but then that line of conversation would inevitably lead to his secret project which was bad even if it was a failure.

“Of course. I’m just a bit concerned with everything going on”, Mortius finally replied. Horvath eyed him for a brief second but smiled.

“Well, yes. I can understand that this is strange for you as a first year student. There’s still so much for you to learn but I can assure you there won’t be much to worry about. The restrictions will be lifted soon, I’m sure”, he said in his usual calm manner. Mortius gave a short smile and began making his way out of the Institute and into the outside area, heading toward the Void Pools, not noticing the High Scholar’s eyes following him intently for a few more seconds before he retreated back to the Institute. For the whole walk, the whispers took room in his ears, repeating words over and over and this time becoming louder and more frequent. It was the same man but speaking at random intervals as if it were multiple men conversing all at once, but he knew it was the same man. There was no mistaking this voice. Mortius conducts a whole ritual to summon his father back from death and now he’s hearing a man’s voice everywhere? There was no doubt about who this voice belonged to. The only questions were how and where? Mortius continued to look around the darkened area for any sign of another person that could be making these noises and bring back the rationality that he always believed to be his best quality. The more the whispers spoke, the more concerned he became. Saying words like “spell”, “staff” and even mentioning his mother’s name. The walk to the pools became a bit more frantic. Mortius’ footsteps became quicker in pace and shorter in length, leaving more and more footprints as he got closer to his destination. The pools weren’t even that far away but the journey to them felt like it lasted forever with these voices in his head. Without even thinking about it, he almost leapt into the pool, only just remembering that there were stairs below all of the pools. As he submerged into the void and entered the dorm entrance, the voices stopped just as suddenly. Everything was quiet.

“Tsk, tsk. Staying outside after curfew hours? You little rebel”, Saminha’s condescending voice said from the bottom of the stairs. Mortius walked down and saw her draped across the sofa, wearing a very torn white vest, covered in spatters of red. Her equally torn jeans exposed a lot of her pale skin and her usually straight and somewhat neat hair was very messy and everywhere. Topping off the after-party look was a pair of red undergarments tied around her left horn.

“I guess you’ve been enjoying the holidays then?”, Mortius asked. Saminha chuckled in a dizzy and giddy manner, licking her lips and her jagged teeth as her tail wiggled around erratically. She moved her hand upwards and wiped away a line of confetti with some pink, slimy stuff in it off her right horn, also noticing and removing the underwear from the left one. Mortius only guessed at what it could’ve been and, even though he didn’t feel extremely uneasy, it was quite disgusting.

“Yeah, enjoyment is probably the nice way of putting it.”

Mortius rolled his eyes and proceeded to the dorm room. Assuming Saminha would be asleep later, he went to his section and found his bed and desk area. He placed his books underneath the desk and quickly changed, hoping to sleep immediately. Getting into bed, he lay back and stared at the ceiling for some seconds, wondering about everything, about the spell and its after effects. His mind was engaged in a constant battle between trying to find out where the voice was coming from and just leaving it alone. He was not afraid of adventure and intrigue but he knew to draw a line if something could lead to him being harmed or killed. Self preservation, in this life, was key. Slowly, the grip of sleep started to wrap around him as his eyelids began slowly lowering.

Mortius was never one for dreams and usually went through the immediate sleep and waking up process. Tonight was different. He opened his eyes and found himself in the dorms as he looked around, taking in the surroundings. Everything was the same as usual but something was different. Everyone was gone, beds vacant and yet very neatly set as if brand new and awaiting new students. Walking out in his nightwear, he opened the door to the dorm hall and walked down, searching each of the dormitory areas for any other students but nobody could be seen. The darkness encased him like a cloak, keeping the secrets of this strange adventure far from being unraveled. Mortius ran back to his bed grabbing his staff which activated the minute he touched it. Not where he left it when he slept, he was sure. The still air of the main hall wrapped around him, accompanied by the low and pale lighting around to give a slight bit of light, though dim it was. Mortius scanned the area, seeing the hall as normal as ever, but one thing that caught his attention sent an uneasy chill vibrating up his spine. All of the Morzestus students stood staring at the stairway, gazing towards it like statues, as if time were frozen on this spot. He went to one of the benches at the side of the room and closely inspected one of the students and was horrified when he saw the students face. It didn’t move but its eyes were missing, and mouth, and nose, and all other facial features. As if the skin of their face had been peeled over and stitched like a surgery to cover their entire face. The skin was baggy and sagging, making wet squelching noises from what seemed to be motions of breathing. Worse than that, there was an overpowering smell in the air, plaguing the atmosphere. The scent of rotting flesh and decomposed organs forced itself into Mortius’ nostrils, prompting him to cover his face immediately. It was foul and almost made him sick but the source of the smell would be much worse. At the exit to the dorms, nailed to the stairs where all the students were facing, was a horribly mutilated Saminha. Drips of thin meat and a crater of bone took the space where one of her horns was supposed to be. Gaping, black, bloody holes were left behind where her eyes were meant to be, with bits of cartilage and bone to be seen. All the way down her body were bloody slashes that had been left behind by, what could only be assumed as, a rabid beast. The only thing holding her up were thousands of nails driven into her hands, suspended above her while her body dangled below and a singular long nail forced deeply into her skull. Mortius felt a burning in his throat as his stomach roiled, and released the contents of his gut all over the floor. The sight, the smell, it was just too much.

It was at this point that he knew this was a nightmare. Please, let this just be something he could wake up from. He tried his best to think hard and even resorted to hitting himself with his staff but he didn’t wake up. The nightmare wasn’t over yet. Groaning in frustration, he looked up and in the corner of his eye he saw a shadow walking up the stairs and out into the grounds. Of course, any normal and rational person would see that and decide not to follow the strange shadow that doesn’t belong to any visible person. Mortius, however, was not someone to leave mysteries unanswered, and this nightmare didn’t seem to be ending any time soon. He gripped his staff and proceeded up the stairs with caution, trying not to look at Saminha’s disgustingly mangled body beneath him. He felt the void sludge encase him again as he emerged from the pool and looked around. It was eerily quiet on the grounds, but it wasn’t abandoned. The ground was littered with students, all of them lying on their backs with the same skin-covered faces. Some were different colours for the different species but none of them could possibly be identified beyond that. Mortius warily made his way through the field of bodies and proceeded to the only source of light he could find, the Institute. The giant double door was only slightly ajar as he entered slowly, staff pointed forward and ready for whatever was on the other side. He entered and was only met with more darkness, the light he saw before coming from two lamps on either side of the entrance inside. Looking around as best he could, the room was vacant and he wondered what he was going to be getting out of this bizarre dream. Suddenly, echoes of loud noises boomed around him, deafening sounds of wood breaking and glass shattering. Wind began picking up and the tables and chairs around the hall began swirling around madly, the ones stuck on the sides of the wall broke off and flew around with them. The foundations of the Institute looked to be shaking and the wooden bannisters of the levels above were vibrating. From the wind was the same voice he heard before but this time it was yelling.

“Son! Help me! Please”, screamed the voice of none other than Mortius’ father, Enodius. Mortius looked upwards and saw a greenish-silver ghost, floating in mid-air but looking as if he was falling. Desperately trying to keep his balance. Though his features were obscured, the man had medium length hair, probably reaching to the midsection of his neck. His eyes were a very bold violet that stood out from the rest of his face, and he had a long scar mark going across his cheek. He was wearing a very old but regal looking shirt and had a ring on his finger with a sizable jewel upon it, similar in size and appearance to the ones that revolved around his staff. 

“I know you have questions but there’s no time! You need to go to the abandoned classroom on the top floor of the Institute! As soon as you get out of the elevator, go to your left and all the way to the back of the building! The first door you see! Enter it! Find me!”, Enodius yelled, trying desperately to keep his balance in the air.

“What are you talking about? What will I find in there?”

“Me! You’ll find me!! There’s no time! Find me, please!!”

The wind began to pick up even more and Enodius began screaming in pain, flying around everywhere. Just as suddenly, the entire building began collapsing and the roof tore off. Mortius was surrounded by a whirlwind of fire, screams could be heard all around him and some kind of strange chanting. From above, he could see objects coming towards him and falling to the ground. They all landed and, in sequence, he saw a long golden spear, with intricate designs and a giant blade with a circular dip in the middle for, what seemed like, something to attach to it. Next to it came a big, silver, circular plate with a giant rune on it. The power it emanated was suffocating, almost as intense as the fire Mortius was encased in. Next came the bottle. A tiny bottle with a silver liquid inside that was still and ominously calm and steady. Finally, dirt. Nothing special, just dirt. Despite its plain appearance, he couldn’t help but feel ever so afraid at the sight of it. None of these things made any real sense, apart from the great fear he felt being near them, and only heard the terrifying groaning of some kind of otherworldly beast as four horrifying faces began to form in the fire and slowly advance toward him. Mortius screamed for his life, hoping someone would hear him and closed his eyes to protect him from the fires. Just as suddenly, he opened his eyes, still yelling. He was back in the dorms once again and he pulled his curtain away to see all the beds were filled.

“What the f**k, Maleos?!” one of the students across from him groaned sleepily, wrapping himself in the covers and trying with more effort to sleep. Mortius looked around and saw some of the others also shaking their heads and trying to sleep again. Thankfully, it wasn’t real and none of it happened. Or did it? He remembered that nothing made sense in this place and the thought of the room on the top floor of the Institute swirled around in his head. He picked up his staff and slowly sat up in his bed. Everyone was asleep again and he snuck out of the door and toward the stairs down to the common area. As expected, nothing but silence. The light inside was just as dim as that in the dream, and Mortius noted the time, seeing that it was only 2am. As he wandered, he froze upon hearing a loud snore come from the sofa. Turning around, he saw Saminha draped across the sofa and snoring loudly. He scoffed but a small part of him felt relief at seeing both her horns attached to her head and her body still intact. A few seconds passed and he became lost in his thoughts.

'Hm… she doesn't look so threatening and mean when she's asleep…' his eyes widened and he shook his head frantically, desperately trying to end that horrifying line of thought. As he began to leave, he stopped for a minute, looking at Saminha again and getting an idea. He figured that a large task such as this would require help, and Saminha seemed like she was always up for some rule breaking. Mortius reached toward her to give her a gentle shake but, instead, grabbed his staff and raised it above his head. This likely wasn’t the time to be thinking about a bit of payback, but there was no better time for Saminha to get a little comeuppance as he brought the staff down with extreme force to her head. She immediately woke with a pained scream and reacted in quick succession by punching Mortius in the face.

“Ow! Gods, woman! What is wrong with you?!”, he whispered, holding his now bleeding nose.

“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?!”, she screamed back, clutching her head in pain. Mortius immediately started shushing her, making sure that the commotion didn’t disturb any of the other students. After sitting down and explaining everything, Saminha was looking at him like he was crazy. Ghosts, the fire, the faces and the objects, it was all extremely strange but that wasn’t her main takeaway.

“Ew, dreaming about me now, Maleos? I knew you were secretly a freak” she mocked.

“Excuse me, you were brutally murdered and massacred in my dream. Only you. Doesn’t that say something to you?” he scowled at her, partially in disbelief that this was her focus, and partially in anger at how this of all things was what she chose to not take seriously. Saminha couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and wiggled her eyebrows at him mockingly.

“Yeah, you probably did that yourself, didn’t you? You dirty little boy. You didn’t do anything amusing to me while I was dead, did you?” she asked, almost laughing loudly now. Mortius went red and frowned so much that his eyebrows almost seemed to encompass his eyes. He shook her out of it and explained the plan to go into the Institute and find out what the dream meant. It was weird and crazy to make such assumptions over a dream but if it turned out to be nothing then the worst that could have possibly happened would be the two getting in trouble for being out so late. Saminha was sceptical but enjoyed the dangerous element and agreed to go. Grabbing her glaive from the dorms and not bothering to change into something less shredded, she and Mortius began up the stairs and out into the grounds, heading to the Institute.