October 31st, six o’clock in the evening.
A thousand black candles floated silently beneath the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.
The flames joined in midair to form skull shapes, shifting every thirty seconds.
Live bats swooped along the rafters, occasionally diving down to draw ripples of screams.
Giant pumpkins cultivated by Hagrid had been hollowed out and suspended from wall sconces.
Orange light poured through the jagged carved mouths onto the students’ faces, splitting everyone’s expressions into halves of light and shadow.
Evelyn sat halfway down the Hufflepuff table, a slice of spider-shaped chocolate cake sitting untouched in front of her.
She wasn’t eating; she was counting heads.
All of Hufflepuff was present.
Cedric sat at the end of the table, exchanging pumpkin juice with the sixth-year prefect.
Over at Slytherin, Draco was squeezed between Crabbe and Goyle.
The bandages on his left wrist had been removed, and he was idly prodding a spider leg on his cake with a silver fork.
Her gaze swept across the Gryffindor table, moving from Ron’s red head to Harry’s messy black hair, finally resting on the far end of the table.
Hermione’s seat was empty!
Evelyn stood up abruptly and shouted toward the Gryffindors, “Weasley!”
Ron, his mouth stuffed with half a chicken leg, looked up blankly.
“Where’s Hermione?”
Ron chewed hastily and swallowed.
“She didn’t come.
Word is she’s been crying in the first-floor girls’ bathroom all afternoon.”
Lavender beside him added, “Parvati went to call her, but she said she didn’t want to come.”
Evelyn gripped her fork tightly.
Nine days ago, crouched outside the stall door, she had emphasized to Hermione word for word: *You must be in the Great Hall.*
Hermione had agreed, and then she broke her word.
Evelyn threw down her fork.
Just as she stepped off the bench, the main doors of the Great Hall slammed open!
Professor Quirrell burst inside, his purple turban lopsided over one ear.
He was pale as a sheet, looking as though he had been forced to drink a liter of bleach.
“Troll!
In the Dungeons!
There’s a troll!” His voice cracked in a high-pitched screech that echoed beneath the ceiling.
“Thought you ought to know.”
With that, Quirrell’s eyes rolled back and he fell flat on his face.
He hit the stone floor face-first, his turban flying off two feet away.
Pandemonium erupted in the Great Hall!
Screams shattered from all four tables simultaneously as chairs flipped, plates shattered, and total chaos took over.
Dumbledore stood up, a shower of purple sparks bursting from the tip of his wand.
A sonic wave rippled outward, instantly swallowing all the noise.
“Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories!
Teachers, follow me to the Dungeons!” Dumbledore’s voice was not loud, but it cut clearly into everyone’s ears.
“Hufflepuffs, line up and follow me!”
Evelyn didn’t fall into line.
The moment the crowd surged toward the doors, she ducked in the opposite direction through a side door of the Great Hall.
…
Echoes were drowned out by the thundering stampede of hundreds of feet pounding against the stone flags.
Evelyn sprinted down the side corridor toward the first floor, her boots striking the stone at a rhythm faster than her heartbeat.
The system panel automatically popped up, red text flashing wildly in the center of her vision.
[Halloween Crisis Countdown: 00:00:00.]
[Task Objective Activated: Alter the direction of key events.]
[Target NPC “Hermione Granger” Detected: First-floor girls’ lavatory.]
[Hostile Unit “Mountain Troll” Detected: Dungeon corridor, moving.]
Evelyn swung around the corner on the second floor, her foot slipping.
Her shoulder slammed heavily against the stone wall.
She didn’t stop, pushing off the wall to spring back into a full sprint.
First-floor corridor.
The jack-o’-lanterns on the windowsills stood lined up, casting rows of monstrous faces onto the walls in amber light.
The air was eerily quiet.
She slowed her pace, landing softly on the stone flags, suppressing her breath to a bare minimum.
At the end of the corridor came a heavy dragging noise, like someone hauling a massive log along the floor.
The interval between each step was long, accompanied by a sickening stench.
It was the smell of sewers mixed with rotting flesh, fermented for three long months.
In the shadows, a towering silhouette emerged at the corridor intersection.
It was easily twelve feet tall, its broad shoulders nearly brushing the vaulted ceiling.
Its dull, granite-grey skin was covered in boils, and it dragged a thick wooden club in its hand.
A mountain troll!
It tilted its head, sniffing the air, then turned to its left.
The left led straight to the girls’ bathroom!
Evelyn’s pupils contracted sharply.
The troll took a step, passing the first jack-o’-lantern.
Nothing happened.
Evelyn cursed inwardly: *Six-hour delay!
She lit them at five-thirty, so the detonation time hadn’t arrived yet!*
The troll passed the second lamp, the orange glow reflecting in its murky eyes.
Just as it stepped past the third jack-o’-lantern, the wick burned out.
The flashbang triggered!
A blinding white flash burst forth!
Immediately followed by a chain explosion from the fourth and fifth lamps! You are reading on g.com, the official source.
Three bursts of white light overlapped, illuminating the corridor as bright as noon day.
The sonic waves bounced back and forth off the stone walls, making the portraits in their frames scream and cover their ears.
The troll dropped its club, clutched its face with both hands, and froze on the spot.
[“Stunned” state triggered, duration 1.5 seconds.]
The countdown ended, and the troll lowered its hands.
It shook its heavy head, its small eyes rolling, locking onto the door ten meters ahead.
A second and a half.
It had only bought a second and a half!
The troll scooped up its club again and took two heavy steps toward the girls’ bathroom.
Evelyn’s boots crunched on pumpkin shards, the sound ringing brutally sharp in the silence.
The troll turned its head, its grey-green face a picture of confusion.
Evelyn ignored it completely.
She sped past the troll, charged straight toward the girls’ bathroom, and kicked the door open!
The lock snapped, and the wooden door slammed heavily against the interior wall.
Hermione was curled up in the corner of the innermost stall, her face pale, her lips trembling uncontrollably.
“Evelyn?”
“I told you to stay in the Great Hall!”
“I…
I didn’t think…”
The sound of a wooden club dragging scraped down the corridor, and the stench poured into the bathroom.
Looking past Evelyn’s shoulder, Hermione caught sight of the massive outline framing the doorway.
A scream magnified threefold inside the tiled walls.
The troll stooped low, its rusty-brown eyes glaring at the two girls inside the room.
It raised its club.
Evelyn stepped sideways to shield Hermione, her right hand reaching inside her robes to grasp a cold piece of metal.
[Item Confirmed: Gatling Gun Model Mark-I (Transformation Prop / Noise Deterrent Type)]
Evelyn hauled the Gatling gun out from under her robes.
The barrel gleamed with a matte black metallic sheen, six barrels aligned in a tight circle, with a long ammunition belt dangling from the handle.
Hermione’s scream cut off instantly.
She stared dumbfounded at the massive piece of machinery.
“Evelyn Valentine!
What is that?”
Evelyn rested the barrel assembly against the sink counter, aiming straight at the troll in the doorway.
She turned her head and flashed Hermione a grin.
“Hermione, you once asked me why I don’t use a wand.”
The troll’s shadow swallowed the ceiling whole.
Evelyn’s finger hooked onto the trigger.
“Because this bad boy works a hell of a lot better!”
The six barrels began to spin wildly.