HIGH SCHOOL DIARIES (A Tale Of Love And Deception)

The flames of the grand hearth flickered dimly in the Blackstone estate's great hall, casting dancing shadows across its cold, stone walls. Hadrain sat quietly, barely listening to the boisterous conversations of the Black Dragon heirs surrounding him. Their laughter echoed like taunts, sharp and cutting, as though every sound was crafted to remind him of his inadequacy.

"Still here, Hadrain?still dreaming of power bird brain; You're like a moth fluttering near a dragon's flame—pathetic and useless," sneered Alaric, his cousin, a towering man with golden hair and piercing eyes that always seemed to hold contempt.

Hadrain's jaw tightened. He forced his gaze downward, swallowing the sharp retort bubbling in his throat. Words wouldn't help him here. They never had. Rising abruptly, he stormed out, ignoring the cruel laughter that followed him.

The hallways were cold and silent, his footsteps echoing faintly as he approached his mother's chambers. Lilian Blackstone's room was a sanctuary of warmth and comfort, a stark contrast to the rest of the estate's harshness.

"Mother?" he called softly as he pushed open the door.

Lilian looked up from her embroidery, her delicate face lighting up with a smile. "Hadrain, my baby boy. Come in."

Hadrain sank onto a chair beside her, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to the vulnerability he only showed in her presence. "They hate me," he said quietly. "I'll never be one of them. They think I'm…nothing."

Lilian reached out, brushing a stray lock of his dark hair back. "They don't see what I see," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "You have a destiny far greater than theirs. One day, they'll regret ever underestimating you."

Her words warmed him, but the doubt remained, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

That night, Hadrain lay awake in his room, the dim light of a single candle flickering against the heavy wooden beams above him. Sleep eluded him, his thoughts a chaotic whirl of anger and despair.

As the clock struck midnight, the candle's flame sputtered out, plunging the room into darkness. A cold breeze swept through, though the windows were shut. Shadows began to pool in the corners, thickening and twisting unnaturally.

Hadrain bolted upright, his heart pounding. "Who's there?"

A low, guttural whisper echoed through the room, chilling him to the bone. "Zarin…Zarin, the Son of the Morning Star…"

The shadows coalesced, forming a towering figure with crimson eyes that glowed like embers in the dark. Its voice was a haunting symphony of whispers and echoes.

"You are not Jonas Blackstone's son. You are the child of Lucifer, the King of Hell. You are Zarin, the heir of darkness."

Hadrain's breath caught in his throat. "No. You're lying. Jonas is my father. My mother is Lilian!"

The figure extended a hand, and the room was engulfed in a swirling vision. Hadrain watched in horror as Lucifer, disguised as Jonas, seduced Lilian. He saw his mother's innocence, her joy at bearing what she thought was Jonas' child, and Jonas' pride in claiming Hadrain as his son.

"This…this can't be true," Hadrain whispered, his voice trembling.

The shadows swirled closer. "It is the truth. You are Lucifer's son, destined to wield unimaginable power."

The shadows vanished, leaving Hadrain alone in the suffocating silence of his room. His mind raced, torn between disbelief and a growing anger. If he was truly the son of Lucifer, then he wasn't just a failure. He was something more—something far beyond the comprehension of the Black Dragons.

"If this is my destiny," he muttered, his voice trembling with rage, "then I'll use it to destroy them all."

The next morning, while the estate was abuzz with its usual activity, Hadrain slipped away unnoticed. He made his way to the forbidden library, a place whispered about in hushed tones by the Black Dragons. Its doors were carved with intricate runes, glowing faintly with protective magic.

He placed his hand on the door, expecting to be repelled by the warding spells, but instead, the runes dimmed and the door creaked open.

The air inside was thick and heavy, tinged with the scent of ancient parchment and lingering magic. Shelves stretched high into the darkness, filled with grimoires bound in leather and metal. But Hadrain's eyes were drawn to the centerpiece of the room: a pedestal holding the Book of Shadows, its black leather cover pulsing faintly with a dark, rhythmic energy.

He approached it cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest. Legends said the book was cursed, its magic so dangerous that it had claimed the lives of those who dared to open it.

"Let's see if that curse works on me," he murmured, reaching out.

As his fingers closed around the book, a wave of dark energy surged through him. He braced himself, expecting agony, but instead felt a rush of power—cold, intoxicating, and all-consuming.

Hadrain spent the following weeks poring over the Book of Shadows in secret. Its pages were filled with ancient spells, each one more horrifying than the last. The first spell he mastered was The Curse of Ashen Flesh, a gruesome incantation that caused a victim's skin to peel away, turning them into a living statue of ash before crumbling into nothingness.

He tested it on a wild boar he had lured into the forest. As he chanted the spell, the words felt like fire on his tongue. The boar screamed in agony as its flesh blackened and cracked, flakes of ash falling from its body until it collapsed into a pile of smoldering dust.

Hadrain stared at the remains, equal parts horrified and exhilarated.

The next spell he studied was The Bloodbind Hex, a spell designed to enslave its target by binding their blood to the caster's will. The victim would be compelled to obey every command, their free will extinguished.

To practice, Hadrain captured a hawk and used the spell. As the incantation ended, the bird stopped struggling, its sharp eyes dulling as it perched obediently on his arm.

"Fly," Hadrain commanded, and the hawk obeyed instantly.

A dark smile played on his lips. "So much for free will."

One of the most dangerous spells in the book was the Nightfang Invocation, a summoning spell that called forth a pack of shadowy wolves from the depths of the underworld. The beasts were relentless and deadly, their howls capable of driving men mad.

Hadrain practiced the spell in an abandoned quarry. As the words left his lips, the ground trembled and black mist began to rise. From the mist emerged three monstrous wolves, their eyes glowing red and their bodies wreathed in shadow.

They snarled and lunged at him, but Hadrain stood his ground, commanding them with a single word: "Obey."

The wolves stopped instantly, bowing their heads.

One night, as Hadrain delved deeper into the Book of Shadows, he discovered a passage about his lineage. The book seemed to respond to his presence, revealing hidden texts that spoke of a son of Lucifer who would rise to become a force of unparalleled destruction.

"It was all planned," he muttered, his voice tinged with dread. "The Black Dragons, the book…it was all meant for me."

But instead of succumbing to despair, Hadrain resolved to use his newfound power to destroy the Black Dragons, and his enemies.

The air in Hadrain's room grew heavy once again, an oppressive darkness blanketing the walls. He had been pouring over the Book of Shadows for weeks, mastering its secrets, but this night was different. The shadows began to writhe, taking form and muttering in ancient, guttural tones.

"Hadrain," they hissed. "It is time. Your father demands your presence in the depths of his kingdom. You must prove yourself."

Hadrain glared at the writhing figures. "And if I refuse?"

The shadows laughed, a sound like the breaking of bone. "Refusal is not an option. He will come for you regardless. But accept willingly, and you will have the chance to shape your own fate."

A cold dread settled over Hadrain, but he clenched his fists, his resolve unshaken. "Fine. Take me."

The shadows closed in, engulfing him in a vortex of darkness. The world blurred and twisted until he found himself standing on the scorched plains of hell. The sky was an eternal, burning red, and the air reeked of sulfur. Towering black mountains loomed in the distance, and rivers of molten lava carved paths through the cracked ground.

In the distance, a massive coliseum rose from the desolation, its spires clawing at the sky.

As Hadrain approached the coliseum, the gates swung open with an ominous creak. Inside, thousands of demons crowded the stands, their grotesque forms illuminated by the fiery light of the arena.

At the center of it all stood Lucifer himself, his presence commanding and terrifying. He was clad in dark armor that shimmered like obsidian, his crimson eyes burning with an otherworldly fire.

"Zarin," Lucifer boomed, his voice echoing through the arena. "My son. Today, you will prove your worth. Fifty challengers stand between you and your destiny. Defeat them, and you will claim your place at my side. Fail, and you will be nothing but ash."

Hadrain clenched his fists. "I never wanted your throne. I'll do this only because I have no choice."

Lucifer smirked, his gaze flicking to the Book of Shadows in Hadrain's hand. "Oh, but you do have a choice. You've already chosen by taking the book. Let the trials begin!"

The gates across the arena creaked open, and a towering demon with jagged horns and molten skin stepped forward, a massive war axe in its hands.

Hadrain held his ground, his mind racing through the spells he had learned. He decided on the Curse of Ashen Flesh, the first spell he had mastered.

As the demon charged, Hadrain whispered the incantation, his voice steady and commanding. The words burned in the air, leaving trails of black smoke.

The demon roared, its steps faltering as its skin began to crack and blacken. It screamed in agony as its body disintegrated into ash, collapsing into a pile of smoldering dust.

The crowd roared, their bloodlust ignited.

A lithe, snake-like demon slithered into the arena next, its eyes glowing with malice. It moved with lightning speed, darting toward Hadrain with venomous fangs bared.

Hadrain raised his hand, summoning the Nightfang Invocation. Dark mist swirled around him, and three shadow wolves emerged, their growls low and menacing.

"Kill," Hadrain commanded.

The wolves lunged, tearing into the serpent demon with savage precision. It screeched and writhed, but it was no match for the relentless beasts. Within moments, it lay lifeless on the arena floor.

As the trials continued, the challengers became more formidable, each one testing Hadrain's growing power.

The Third Challenger: A demon with flaming wings and a blade of fire. Hadrain used the Bloodbind Hex, forcing it to turn its weapon on itself, ending its own life.

The Tenth Challenger: A massive, multi-limbed monstrosity. Hadrain unleashed the Rift of Shadows, a spell that tore open a void beneath the creature, dragging it screaming into oblivion.

The Twentieth Challenger: A skeletal demon that reanimated every time it was struck down. Hadrain combined the Curse of Eternal Flame with the Binding Chains of Acheron, trapping the demon in unending fire until it crumbled into nothingness.

Each victory left the crowd hungrier for blood, their cheers growing louder with every foe Hadrain dispatched.

By the time the fiftieth challenger stepped into the arena, Hadrain was bloodied but unbroken. The final demon was unlike any he had faced—a towering behemoth with obsidian armor, eyes that burned like twin suns, and a blade that seemed to hum with dark energy.

Lucifer leaned forward in his throne, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Let's see if you truly are my son."

The demon charged, its blade slicing through the air with terrifying speed. Hadrain dodged, the edge narrowly missing him. He countered with the Soul Siphon, a spell that drained the life force of his enemy.

The demon staggered but didn't fall, its resilience unmatched.

"Enough of this trouble let's end this," Hadrain growled, raising the Book of Shadows. He chanted a spell he had never dared to use before: The Wrath of Oblivion.

The air around him darkened, the very fabric of reality seeming to tear as a vortex of shadows engulfed the arena. The demon roared, its form disintegrating as the spell consumed it entirely.

When the darkness cleared, nothing remained of the challenger. The arena fell silent, the crowd stunned into silence.

Lucifer rose from his throne, his applause slow and deliberate. "You have surpassed my expectations, Zarin. The Book of Shadows was created for you, and you wield it with a power even I did not anticipate."

Hadrain glared at him, his chest heaving. "I didn't do this for you. I'll never be your pawn."

Lucifer's smile widened. "Oh, but you already are. The moment you opened that book, you sealed your fate. The power you wield is mine, and through you, it will bring ruin to the world."

Hadrain turned and walked away, his mind racing. He had survived the trials, but at what cost? As he left the coliseum, the Book of Shadows pulsed in his hands, a reminder of the darkness he now carried in his hands and the danger in wield.