THE ALPHA’S ADDICTION

THE STRANGE WRITING



Melvina noticed that the sitting room, and the other rooms in the house were in disarray just like Esther had said; just like her friend’s house had been when she had gone to check on her. The perpetrators of the act had been searching for something.

What could be that? She thought, as she ran her eyes over the relics in the sitting room for the umpteenth time, for any sign or clue that might lead them on, or show them who the culprits were.

So far, they hadn’t found anything. Not even a piece of note, like she had seen in her friend’s place, or a threatening piece like the dead meat Anthony had found in Emma’s refrigerator. Nothing. Nothing at all.

Or had the witch girl hidden some kind of clue since she had canvassed the scene before them?

“Esther…” She called.

“Yes ma’am.” Esther replied, dropping the vase on the oval table in the sitting room for the second time.

The first time had been when she had come in from school and had met the house in its unkempt form. The vase with intrinsic designs and patterns had been on the floor. She had picked it and kept it on the table, knowing its importance and value to her aunt.

Now the object had been strewn on the floor again when she had come in with the werewolves. She told herself to believe that it was as a result of the wind that had blown her away from the front porch, not some sign.

“Did you see anything, a clue perhaps…when you had come in that first time?” Melvina asked her.

“No.” She replied. She hadn’t seen anything. If she had, she wouldn’t have come looking for the redhead.

“Hey, can you make any meaning of this?”

She heard the Anthony guy ask her. He was coming out from her room. Who had given him the permission? She thought, a bit irked at her pinky bedroom being invaded, even though she knew that nine out of ten, he wouldn’t even be focused on her room, but on finding clues about the invasion.

But still…

She looked down to his outstretched arms, and saw a piece of paper, quite rumpled and smeared with blood.

“What is that?” She heard the Luna woman ask.

“I don’t know.” Anthony replied. “It is written in some kind of ancient writing.” He said, as he handed the paper over to her.

“Do you know what it means?” He asked her.

She scanned the writings on the paper which just fitted into three lines on the sheet of paper. He was right. She thought. The writings were surely of the ancients. She hadn’t seen this type before, not even among the texts her aunt had recommended to her to study and practice.

Holding the paper stiffly in her hand, she turned away from their watchful eyes, trying to rack her brain to see if she could make sense of the writings. But it was to no avail. It grated on her nerves. This was a clue to find her aunt, and she couldn’t make the head or tail of it.

Underneath her breath, she cursed whomsoever had been so wicked to leave behind such a nonsense mystery for her to solve.

“You can’t figure it out?” She heard Anthony ask, and inhaled deeply.

“No, I can’t.” She admitted her failure finally. “It is written in some kind of ancient language.” She added, turning around to face the both of them. She noticed then that the alpha boy, Derek, wasn’t with them in the room.

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“Don’t you have some kind of interpretation book or something that could be used to read off the text, at least to an extent? Didn’t your aunt have something like that?” Melvina asked her, hope brimming in her eyes.

Esther bit her lips, as she allowed her mind roam, to see if she could remember any book like that. She had to recall; her aunt’s life was at stake.

She sucked in her breath, gasping a bit, as the identity of a book struck her.

“I think we could use a particular book for this purpose.” She said, already walking off to the passage leading from the sitting room to the other rooms in the house.

****

Derek looked around the small airy room for the umpteenth time. He didn’t find anything of interest, except that he was sure that this particular room belonged to the Margo witch. The contents of the wardrobe were enough proof for that.

He mused, turning around to walk away from the room when his leg hit something.

He looked down and saw a piece of wood, looking so out of place in the small room. It seemed to have been stuck up to the wall, but for some reason now, had just poked out like a strung spring.

He sighed, about to continue on his journey out of the room, having chosen to ignore the wooden block, but his guts wouldn’t let him.

It pushed him to check a wooden block out.

What stupidity! He thought, but still bent down to touch the block, and push it back to its seemingly right place.

But when he did so, pushing the block backward to the wall, he heard the unlocking of a couple of door’s bolts, and then the opening of something like a gate on a rail, and then he felt a gust of wind bathe his back from behind.

Skeptically, he turned around slowly, only to discover that the wardrobe which he had checked out earlier while searching for clues had shifted sideways, as if on a rail, to reveal a wooden door.

A smile touched his lips, he had just found a secret door.

****

“What is the meaning?” Melvina asked Esther worriedly, as she watched the latter’s face get paler by the passing second as she deciphered the writing on the paper, from a brown colored book which smelled of dust and oldness.

They had found the book after much searching in the library section of the house.

“Give as Emma or lose your Aunt.” Esther croaked out.


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