chapter 3 [proofread] Perfect—let's expand your draft into a full gothic fantasy chapter, rich with atmosphere, dread, and the kind of dark elegance that makes the setting feel alive. I'll weave in deeper descriptions of the cursed locket, the hall, and the shadowy figure stalking Wendy, so it reads like a polished excerpt from a gothic novel.
The torches along the corridor sputtered, their flames clawing at the damp air as though reluctant to burn. Shadows stretched long and skeletal across the stone walls, whispering secrets of the dead.
"Of course your zombie followers will agree," she muttered, her voice sharp as broken glass.
Kell's smile was a blade in the dark. His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "Why resist me? I am simply too good… and you should not fight it."
"Narcissist," she hissed, venom dripping from the word. Confidence was one thing, but Kell's arrogance was a sickness, a rot that spread. I must escape this place, she thought, her pulse quickening. Fortune stirred—her turn was near.
"Thank the gods," she whispered, breath trembling. Kell laughed, entertained by her restless defiance, as though her struggle was a performance staged for him alone.
---
The inspection continued. Desha, weary and cold-eyed, finished with the girl before her and turned to Wendy. Together they moved into the restroom, its cracked mirrors reflecting distorted faces, its air heavy with mildew and dread.
"Strip," Desha commanded, her tone devoid of mercy.
"Must we die it down a little? I'm not running," Wendy replied, her voice sharp but trembling.
"Wendy, do not drag this out. I long for sleep," Desha sighed, her weariness etched deep.
"Thank the heavens I'm not the only one who despises mornings," Wendy muttered, unfastening her gown.
She slipped out of her dress—a garment of black velvet and faded crimson silk, its bodice stiff with whalebone, sleeves puffed like funeral shrouds, and lace trailing like cobwebs. It was a dress that whispered of graves and forgotten brides.
Desha's gaze fell upon the scar carved into Wendy's flesh, a mark left by the cursed locket.
"That is a grievous scar," she remarked, her tone half uninterested yet tinged with hunger, as though the wound itself whispered secrets.
"Oh… I earned it in sparring," Wendy lied smoothly, her voice steady though her heart raced.
"Mmm," Desha murmured, feigning disinterest.
"How do you survive with that narcissist?" Wendy asked while fastening her gown once more.
"It is no hard task," Desha replied flatly, her eyes shadowed.
---
Wendy did not believe her. She kept silent, scanning the gloom for Cathy. Not finding her, she resolved to wait until the inspection ended.
Then it came—a chill, sharp as a blade, slithered across the right side of her neck. She turned, and there—lurking in the shadows—stood the same figure she had seen at the ball, the one who had nearly claimed her. His presence was a wound in the air, a distortion of reality.
Her breath caught. She glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice. When she turned back, the figure had vanished, swallowed by the dark.
Her skin crawled, every hair rising. She tried to act normal, but the eerie sensation clung to her like frost, gnawing at her sanity.
---
The inspection ended. No spy was found.
Back in the dormitory, Wendy whispered incantations, spells arranging the room with spectral precision. She washed quickly, her mind restless. There was no time—she had to find her spirit pet.
"Urrgh!" she growled, frustration boiling. She could not even fathom what Hannah was enduring now.
---
In the main hall, Cathy was tormenting Hannah, feeding her harmful things in a cruel attempt to force speech. Spirits never spoke to anyone but their chosen master—their silence was sacred, a bond unbroken.
"What an ugly thing," Cathy sneered, though Hannah was far from ugly.
To strangers, Hannah appeared as a panda-shaped creature, silver and brown in hue. But to her true master, she revealed her pure form: a snow-white wolf, radiant and terrible in beauty.
The hall fell silent. Cathy froze, sensing something unnatural.
Then—
~BANG~
Her head was smashed against the table, the sound echoing like a death knell through the chamber.