Chapter 3: The Forbidden Wing. Supernatural & Dark Fantasy Manga Web Novel - Crimson High: The Blood Pact.
.jpg)
The storm clouds had finally broken, but the calm that followed felt unnatural—like the eye of a hurricane rather than the end of it. Sunlight pierced through cracks in the clouds, illuminating Crimson High with sharp beams that only highlighted the school’s decaying state. But beneath the surface, something far more sinister brewed.
Riku sat alone on the rooftop, his back against the rusted railing, knees pulled to his chest. The sigil on his arm throbbed steadily beneath his sleeve, the dark lines now creeping past his elbow. It felt heavier than before—as though the pact itself had begun to anchor him, weighing him down.
The fight with Reina replayed in his mind over and over—the red threads slicing through the air, her cold, calculating gaze, and the casual way she’d walked away like their battle had been nothing more than a warm-up.
"I barely survived," Riku thought, staring down at his trembling hands.
“You did better than expected,” Sable’s voice slithered into his mind, laced with amusement.
Riku didn’t respond.
Sable materialized beside him, perched atop the railing like a vulture. “You saw what she was capable of. Controlling life threads, cutting them with ease... imagine having that kind of power.”
Riku’s hands curled into fists. “She almost killed me.”
“And next time, she will,” Sable sneered, “unless you start taking this seriously. This isn’t a game anymore, Riku. You’re either the predator… or the prey.”
The scene shifts.
Years earlier.
A young Reina sat alone in the vast, dusty library of Crimson High. Her uniform was too big, sleeves hanging past her fingertips. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a messy braid, and a pair of cracked glasses rested on her nose.
Her hands trembled as she flipped through an old, leather-bound book—the Vinculum Sanguinis.
The voice came to her like it had for Riku.
“You seem... lost, child.”
Reina flinched, spinning around. The library was empty, but the air grew thick and heavy. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls.
“Who’s there?” she whispered.
A figure materialized from the shadows—tall, cloaked in tattered robes, its face hidden beneath a porcelain mask with painted black tears.
“I am your salvation,” the figure whispered. “Or your destruction. The choice is yours.”
Reina’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want anything from you.”
The figure tilted its head. “But you do. You want to stop feeling helpless. You want control. I can give you that. All it takes is a pact.”
She hesitated.
Her mind flashed back to the countless times she’d been ignored, bullied, and treated as if she didn’t exist. Her father’s harsh words echoed in her ears—“Weakness will get you nowhere.”
Reina’s hands shook, but she nodded. “Fine. I’ll make the pact.”
The masked figure extended a hand, revealing a crimson thread glowing faintly. “Then take this. It will bind you to me… and give you control over the threads of life.”
As Reina grasped the thread, it coiled around her fingers, cutting into her skin before disappearing beneath it. Her arm flared with pain as the sigil etched itself into her flesh.
The figure’s voice echoed one last time. “Remember—control comes at a price. Every thread you pull will tug at your own.”
Back in the present, Riku wandered the school grounds, his mind heavy with thoughts of Reina and the growing power inside him.
As he passed through the old, abandoned music room, a faint whisper echoed around him—different from Sable’s usual taunts.
“You’re not alone in this.”
Riku froze. “Who’s there?”
From the shadows, a boy emerged—tall, with messy black hair and piercing green eyes. His uniform was disheveled, and a faint scar ran across his cheek.
“I’m Kaito,” the boy said, his tone calm but serious. “And if you keep following Sable’s path, you’ll end up dead. Or worse.”
Riku frowned his guard up. “How do you know about Sable?”
Kaito pulled up his sleeve, revealing his own sigil—different from Riku’s but equally intricate.
“Because I made a pact too. But unlike you, I figured out how to survive without losing everything.”
Riku’s heart raced. “There’s a way out of this?”
Kaito’s eyes darkened. “Maybe. But first, you need to understand something. Crimson High… it’s a feeding ground. The pacts, the demons, the faculty—they’re all part of something much bigger.”
Riku’s mind spun with questions, but Kaito raised a hand.
“There are others like us. Some fight the system. Others… embrace it.”
Riku’s thoughts went to Reina—the threads, the power, her cold, detached demeanor.
“And Reina?” he asked.
Kaito’s jaw clenched. “She’s one of the worst. A puppet master who’s cut too many threads to count. But even she’s trapped in this game.”
Riku looked down at his hand, the sigil still glowing faintly.
“So, what now?” he asked.
Kaito’s gaze hardened. “You need to decide. Keep playing the game like Reina—or find a way to break it.”
Sable’s voice echoed in Riku’s mind, venomous and amused. “Don’t listen to him, Riku. Power isn’t meant to be given up. It’s meant to be taken.”
But for the first time, Riku ignored Sable.
He met Kaito’s eyes. “I’m not going to be anyone’s puppet.”
Kaito smirked slightly. “Good. Then let’s find a way to cut the strings before they tighten around our necks.”
The pact inside Riku pulsed, but this time, it didn’t feel as heavy.
Maybe there was still a way out.
Deep beneath Crimson High, in a hidden chamber lined with ancient symbols, the faculty gathered. A large, stone table sat in the center, and above it, a map of the school glowed faintly.
The headmaster, his face hidden behind a silver mask, pointed to two glowing dots on the map—Riku and Kaito.
“They’re aligning,” he murmured.
A faculty member chuckled darkly. “Let them. The stronger they get, the more valuable they’ll be when the harvest begins.”
But in the shadows of the chamber, another figure stood, unseen, watching.
“Unless they break the cycle first,” the figure whispered.
The sun dipped low over Crimson High, casting long, twisted shadows that stretched across the campus like skeletal fingers. The illusion of normalcy still clung to the school—students chatting, laughter echoing faintly—but beneath that thin veil, something rotten festered. Riku could feel it now, deeper than ever. The sigil on his arm pulsed, reacting to the school itself, as if every brick and hallway carried the weight of centuries of dark secrets.
But tonight, he wasn’t alone.
Riku stood at the edge of the old gymnasium, where the concrete cracked under his feet and rusted chains swayed gently from broken equipment. Kaito leaned against a wall nearby, arms crossed, his green eyes scanning the area cautiously.
The two had agreed to meet here after school, away from prying eyes—and more importantly, from the faculty’s surveillance.
“So, what’s the plan?” Riku asked, his voice low.
Kaito’s jaw clenched as he pulled a worn, hand-drawn map from his jacket. He unrolled it on the dusty bench between them.
“There’s a part of Crimson High that’s been off-limits for decades—since before either of us got here,” Kaito said, pointing to a faded section of the map labeled The Forbidden Wing. “It’s sealed off to students. But I’ve heard that’s where the original pacts were created.”
Riku frowned, studying the map. “And you think we’ll find answers there? A way to break this thing?”
Kaito hesitated. “Maybe. But it’s not going to be easy. That wing’s protected by wards, traps, and... worse.”
Riku swallowed hard, but the weight of Daichi’s death and Reina’s brutal power echoed in his mind.
“I don’t care,” he said firmly. “If there’s a chance, I’m taking it.”
Kaito smirked slightly. “Good. Because there’s no turning back.”
Night fell quickly over Crimson High, the skies choked with storm clouds once more.
Riku and Kaito crept through the deserted hallways, their footsteps muffled against the worn floorboards. The sigil on Riku’s arm burned faintly, reacting to the darkness around them.
“The Forbidden Wing is below the East Wing,” Kaito whispered, leading Riku through a set of rusted double doors. “Most students don’t even know there’s a basement here.”
They descended a spiral staircase, the walls damp and cracked. The deeper they went, the colder it became, as if the air itself had been drained of life.
Finally, they reached a massive iron door, its surface covered in ancient sigils that glowed faintly in the dark.
“This is it,” Kaito murmured. “The entrance to the Forbidden Wing.”
Riku stepped forward, but the sigil on the door flared, pushing him back with a force that knocked the wind out of him.
Kaito caught him. “It’s warded against pact-holders. We need to trick it.”
Riku grimaced. “How?”
Kaito pulled a small, jagged dagger from his belt—its blade etched with the same sigils as the door. “Blood,” he said simply. “The door only opens to those who offer part of themselves.”
Without hesitating, Kaito dragged the blade across his palm, blood dripping onto the sigils. The markings pulsed, then dimmed.
“Your turn,” he said, handing Riku the blade.
Riku hesitated, the weight of what he was doing sinking in. But then he remembered Daichi’s lifeless body, Reina’s threads slicing through the air, and the faculty watching from the shadows.
He sliced his palm, the sting sharp but quick, and let the blood drip onto the door.
The sigils flared brightly, and then the iron door groaned open, revealing a dark, spiraling hallway beyond.
The air inside was suffocating—thick with dust, decay, and something more... ancient.
Tattered curtains hung from the ceilings, and broken relics lined the walls—remnants of the school’s long-forgotten history.
But what caught Riku’s eye was the mural on the far wall.
It depicted a circle of robed figures, each holding a glowing crimson thread. In the center stood a massive, shadowy figure—its hands outstretched, strings extending from its fingers, controlling the robed figures like marionettes.
“The origin of the pacts,” Kaito murmured, stepping closer. “The faculty... they’re not in control. They’re puppets too.”
Riku felt a chill run down his spine. “Then who’s pulling the strings?”
Before Kaito could answer, a deep rumble echoed through the hallway.
From the shadows, a towering figure emerged—its body stitched together with countless threads, its hollow eyes glowing red.
“A Thread Guardian,” Kaito hissed. “It protects the secrets of this place.”
The guardian lunged forward, its massive arm swinging down.
Riku barely dodged, rolling to the side as the stone floor cracked under the force of the blow.
Kaito slashed at the threads holding the guardian together, but they were too thick. “We need to cut its core thread!”
Riku’s mind raced. He focused, letting the sigil on his arm flare as he searched for the core thread—the same way he had during his fight with Reina.
There. A faint, glowing thread extended from the guardian’s chest, flickering beneath layers of protective cords.
“I see it!” Riku shouted.
Kaito nodded. “I’ll distract it. You cut the thread!”
Kaito lunged at the guardian, slashing at its limbs, while Riku sprinted toward the core.
The sigil on his arm pulsed violently as he summoned tendrils of black energy, wrapping them around the glowing thread.
With a surge of strength, he yanked the thread tight—and sliced it clean.
The guardian let out a guttural roar before collapsing into a heap of lifeless strings.
Riku and Kaito stood over the remains, panting heavily.
In the center of the pile, a small, crimson crystal gleamed.
Kaito picked it up carefully. “This... this is the heart of the pact system.”
Riku frowned. “What do you mean?”
Kaito’s eyes darkened. “Every pact, every sigil—it’s all connected to these crystals. Destroy them, and the system begins to crumble.”
Riku’s heart raced. “So, we can end this?”
Kaito hesitated. “Maybe. But it won’t be easy. The faculty will do everything to protect these.”
Before they could discuss further, a voice echoed through the chamber—smooth, cold, and familiar.
“I warned you not to meddle in things you don’t understand.”
Reina stepped from the shadows, her hands glowing with crimson threads, her expression colder than ever.
“You found the crystal,” she said flatly. “Good. Now hand it over.”
Riku stood his ground, the sigil on his arm flaring. “No. I’m done being a puppet.”
Reina’s eyes narrowed, her threads coiling around her like serpents.
“Then I guess I’ll have to cut your strings myself.”
Above, in the faculty lounge, the headmaster watched the events unfold through the surveillance mirrors, his masked face expressionless.
“They found the first crystal,” a teacher murmured.
The headmaster’s fingers tapped against the table rhythmically. “Let them. The more they struggle, the tighter the strings will pull.”
But in the far corner, the hooded figure remained silent, watching Riku with quiet intensity.
“He’s close,” the figure whispered. “Closer than any before.”
To Be Continued……
© 2025 Abrar Nayeem Chowdhury. All Rights Reserved.
This Web Novel, "Crimson High: The Blood Pact", including its title, storyline, characters, settings, dialogues, and original content, is protected under the United States Copyright Act (Title 17, U.S. Code) and international copyright laws.
⚠️ Unauthorized Use is Strictly Prohibited
Any unauthorized copying, reproduction, distribution, adaptation, or resale of this work—whether in print, digital, audio, or film format—without written permission from the author/publisher is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action under U.S. copyright law and DMCA (Digital Millennium Copyright Act) provisions.
⚠️ No AI, Fanfiction, or Commercial Use Without Permission
- This work may not be used for AI training, machine learning datasets, or automated text generation without express written consent from the copyright holder.
- Creating derivative works, including fanfiction, adaptations, scripts, or spin-offs, requires legal authorization.
- Commercial use, including paid promotions, film rights, merchandising, or translations, is strictly prohibited without a licensing agreement.
📩 For Permissions & Licensing
For inquiries regarding film rights, adaptations, audiobook production, or other permissions, contact:
📧 motivationbeast74@gmail.com
⚠️ Plagiarism is a Crime. Respect Intellectual Property.
Thank you for supporting original storytelling. 🙌📖🔥
Comments
Post a Comment