Keepers Of The Occult (NaNoWriMo 2024) Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Visible Premonition

Read chapter 7 of Keepers Of The Occult (NaNoWriMo 2024) by Mercynarie on NovelPedia.

The boys left Hazel in the middle of a dark street before promptly teleporting away. That was as far as they could take her since they were apparently ‘running low on mana’, whatever it meant. She couldn’t really blame them, considering they had to use a considerable amount of magic to clear out all traces of their presence in the school. Besides, she wasn’t that far from her house anyway. It was a cloudless night. A gentle breeze cut through the air, washing a stray plastic bag onto the deserted street. On her left stood a row of darkened convenience shops and other facilities. On her right lay the quiet row of apartments, all lined up in a neat queue of unpainted concrete. The occasional light shone in the window above, although Hazel was the only one still walking on the streets. Her footsteps quickened as she turned a corner and reached her doorstep. A light came on, and the door creaked open before she could take out her keys. “Pops!” Hazel squeaked. It was rare to see her Grandfather awake, especially during this time of the night. “Oh, my little girl is home safe!” Grandfather cracked a weak but radiant smile. “The buses should be off-duty by now, so I got worried.” Hazel trudged into her house and set her bag on the dining table. She plopped herself down on the sofa, feeling the day’s exhaustion flood over her. It was only ten in the evening, but chasing the Yokai around the school was probably the most exercise she had gotten in the year. And boy, was she paying for it now. Conversely, her grandfather sat across the table and squinted at her through puffy eyes. His silvery-white hair was thin but neatly flattened on one side. Deep crevices trailed the sides of his cheeks. It would’ve aged him even further if he had softer features, but the fierce brightness in his eyes complemented it perfectly, granting him an air of stoic dignity instead. “How was school today?” Grandfather’s voice cut into Hazel’s thoughts, reminding her that she had been staring into space for a few minutes. “Huh? I— Everything’s alright. I’ve just been busy writing my articles and lost track of time,” Hazel lied with a tired smile. “My school has gotten interested in them, so the Club President has given me lots to do.” “That’s wonderful news! What brought that on?” Hazel shrugged, mumbling something unintelligible in reply. It was kind of a long story anyway, and she was in no state to recount everything while taking care to avoid revealing Chester and Liam’s secret. Thankfully, her grandfather didn’t probe further. “Don’t tire yourself out, alright?” The chair creaked as Grandfather got up. He hobbled over to a small altar in the middle of the living room, paying his respects to her parents’ photographs nestled on the wall. It was a simple enough setup; just a small table fitted neatly into an indentation in a wall. Wind chimes hung just above the photograph of a smiling couple, remaining as still as they could be in the stuffy house. “I sensed impending danger this morning. More than that, in fact. I sensed death ,” Grandfather said cryptically without turning back, falling comfortably back into his Shaman-like persona. “It kept me up the whole evening, waiting for you to get back. It was such a relief to see you home safe and sound. I don’t know what this premonition holds for you, so I can only take comfort in the knowledge that our loved ones are always watching over us. And maybe you should, too.” A shadow crossed over Hazel’s memories. Or rather, the lack thereof. All she had was a vague sense of loss, even though she never knew her parents to begin with. Hell, she wasn’t even sure the photographs on the altar were really them. According to her grandfather, her mother had died delivering her after some childbirth complications. Her father was unable to take the loss of his wife, so he killed himself on the very same day. And thus, Hazel was brought into the world at the cost of two lives. A soft thunk of metal hitting wood caught her atte