Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 32: Chapter 32

The storm was still raging as Wheeler burst from the tower's doors, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Thick sheets of rain came crashing down over him, obscuring his vision and drenching Wheeler to the bone. The wind whipped harshly against him, nearly knocking him to his knees.
It appeared the others had successfully managed to flee; from the little he could see through the rain, the academy grounds were completely empty. Regardless, he felt a prick at the back of his neck, like those all too familiar eyes were still watching him from the darkness.
Wheeler continued to run, fighting against the wind as he frantically searched for a hiding place to escape the storm and hopefully the mysterious doppelgänger along with it.
Finally, his gaze locked on the outline of a small stone building only a few feet from the tower. He vaguely recalled being told it was another storage unit.
Wheeler desperately charged towards it, knocking against the worn wooden door that gave way under his weight. Wheeler whispered a small thank you to the heavens as he quickly slipped inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
He slumped against the wall, taking a moment to catch his breath, the wind and rain muffled despite the storm still raging outside.
It was fairly chilly in the building and at last the reality of how soaked he was actually set in. With his hair plastered to his head and droplets still dripping down his face, Wheeler quickly yanked off his jacket, wringing it out. He grimaced as an unseemly amount of water spilled onto the floor.
With the feeling of being watched (along with the threat of being blown away by the storm) finally gone, Wheeler's shoulders relaxed. He let out a low exhale, his gaze flickering around the room as he took in his surroundings. The small building's interior was pitch black and smelled profusely of must and rot. Shivering from the cold, Wheeler removed his wand, quickly whispering a spell which prompted a warm light to expand from its tip. Slowly he looked around, doing his best to keep the light steady in his trembling hands.
It appeared his previous assessment had been correct. It was a storage room - though it seemed the items there hadn't seen use in countless years. It was mostly made up of boxes, stacked high and caked in heavy layers of dust. There were a few stacks of old books in one corner and a pile of broken crystal balls in another. Wheeler lifted his wand, the light spilling across the walls. They were lined with portraits, each containing large groups of young mages.
Wheeler approached one, rubbing his hand across the base of its once golden frame, now turned brown with rust. As he wiped the dust away, the thin words engraved there were revealed: 'The Imperial Academy's Class of 1307.' Beneath it, about a hundred names of the picture's subjects had been inscribed.
Ah! So these were class portraits.
Wheeler scanned the other paintings, looking over the smiling students of years long since passed. He smiled to himself at the thought that year after year the academy was still able to provide such amazing experiences and training to its students. As his gaze fell to the final painting however, the smile faltered.
Wheeler's eyes grew wide, his breath catching.
No...it couldn't be...there was no way.
Slowly Wheeler approached the painting, raising his wand to fully examine it. Despite how impossible it seemed, the longer he stared at it the more sure he became.
Standing in the middle of the class portrait was his mother.
But how could that be?
His mother didn't have magical abilities and had never mentioned ever attending the academy. Martha Trevil didn't keep secrets. There were many things Wheeler was unsure of, but his mother's integrity wasn't one of them. If she had powers, he would have known.
Something wasn't right—everything about this seemed off, and the feeling turned his stomach to knots.
Swallowing hard, Wheeler reached forward, carefully wiping the dust from the frame's engraving. Like the last, the year and student's names were written below, all listed neatly in alphabetical order. Wheeler's gaze scanned down the list, finally falling to T for Trevil, or...well...at least where it should have been.
Wheeler's stomach dropped at what he found instead.
The place where his mother's name should have been written was violently scratched out, as if by doing so it could somehow rip away her very existence as well.
Wheeler swallowed hard, suddenly becoming painfully aware that he was trembling. Now he wasn't quite sure if it was from the cold or something else entirely.
For some reason Wheeler couldn't shake the horrible feeling that he had just found something he wasn't supposed to see.