NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: I Couldn't Save Her
At the Restaurant
The doors swung open with a soft chime. Light spilled through the glass entrance of La Rosette, the finest student restaurant on campus. Heads turned. Conversations halted.
In stepped Celeste, her presence like a goddess among mortals, hair swaying like spun gold, every click of her heel echoing like thunder. Beside her, Noah walked quietly. Calm. Unshaken. The contrast between them was jarring — like the moon walking beside the sun.
Behind them, Adams and Liebert trailed like shadows with fake grins painted on their lips. Eyes everywhere locked on the strange group.
A waiter in black suit rushed forward, bowing low. "Welcome, Lady Virellian."
Celeste barely acknowledged him. "Table for two."
Noah raised a brow. "What about Adams and Liebert?"
Celeste blinked. "Oh," she said, lips curling slightly, "that slipped my mind."
She smiled sweetly — too sweetly — and turned back to the waiter. "Make that four."
The waiter nodded and vanished into the velvet-curtained section.
Adams adjusted his glasses, hiding the flicker of resentment in his gaze. He looked at Noah and forced a smile, but inside he was boiling.
"Pity. That's what this is. Noah pitied me. Because he's close to her. Now he thinks he's better than me?"
He clenched his jaw.
"That's fine. Stay foolish, Noah. The more blind you are, the easier you'll fall. I'll break you and win her. I'll win Celeste for myself."
Beside him, Liebert's smirk was sharp.
"Everyone here has a goal… and mine is her. The throne queen of the school. Celeste Virellian. I'll pull her away from you like candy from a child, Noah. You just watch."
Their thoughts clashed behind grins as the waiter returned and led them to a private corner.
The restaurant shimmered with chandeliers. Students dressed in academy blues filled the hall, watching with interest as Celeste and Noah took the center stage. Adams and Liebert flanked them, but their presence was… insignificant.
They sat.
Adams and Liebert immediately dug into the lavish dishes placed before them. Roasted duck, truffle pasta, crystal glasses of fruit wine.
But as Noah reached for his fork, Celeste grabbed his wrist gently.
"No," she said, raising a spoonful of food toward his mouth. "Let me feed you."
Noah hesitated. "I can feed myself."
She leaned closer, eyes shimmering like ice. "Just eat."
Noah sighed and let her. The spoon touched his lips, and he swallowed. His expression didn't change, but the room held its breath.
"Fine," he said. "I guess it's fair I feed you too."
He lifted his spoon. Slowly. Carefully. He raised it toward her.
Celeste smiled. Elegantly. She opened her mouth just slightly — and took the bite.
The room gasped.
Adams and Liebert stared, hands frozen mid-chew.
Every other student turned to stone.
They watched. Mouths opened in disbelief as Noah and Celeste — the outcast boy and the ice queen — fed each other, oblivious to the stares.
When the bell rang for the next class, chaos returned to the restaurant.
Students filed out, whispering. Eyes flicked at Noah like he was now some kind of forbidden royalty.
Adams stood up stiffly. "Maths. Time to go."
Noah made to rise, but Celeste grabbed his wrist again, pulling him gently but firmly back into the seat.
"You can go ahead," she told them with a smile.
Adams frowned. "But—"
"I said, go."
Liebert stood, grumbling, and the two walked off, frustration in every step.
Noah turned to Celeste. "We'll be late if we don't go."
She tilted her head, lips brushing close. "Let them start without us. What can they do? I'll take care of it."
She leaned in for a kiss. Inches away.
Noah pulled back. "I don't think we should cross that line yet."
He stood, brushing invisible dust from his uniform. "Let's go."
Celeste watched him. A little stunned. Then she smiled to herself.
"He didn't push. Didn't beg. Didn't even try to impress me."
"I'll catch up," she said.
He nodded and left.
As the door shut behind him, she exhaled slowly.
"He really is… different. Stupidly blunt. Dense. But… different."
Then she noticed someone waving her over.
Mr. Jude. The principal.
She followed.
---
At the Principal's Office
The room smelled like old books, fresh tea, and corruption.
Celeste sat elegantly on the velvet chair. Mr. Jude waddled to his own seat, his large belly pressing against the desk.
He gestured.
His secretary entered with two cups of tea. One was placed before Celeste. One before himself.
She sipped it without flinching. Eyes locked on him like a queen hearing a peasant speak.
"I heard something strange," Jude began. "You're dating… a peasant?"
Celeste's eyes didn't blink. "Are you my father now?"
"No," he chuckled awkwardly, waving his hand. "Just surprised."
She leaned back. "Yes. I'm dating him."
Mr. Jude chuckled, low and amused. "Noah Calden?"
"Yes."
"Ah… I see. So… the plan begins."
"Of course," she said. Her voice lost its warmth. "Did you really think I'd date someone like him? He called me Blondzilla. I will never forgive that."
Jude laughed loudly, then caught himself.
"What's funny?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said, coughing.
She took one last sip of tea and stood.
"If that's all, I'll be leaving."
He nodded. "Do you think he's like the others?"
Celeste froze.
No answer.
Just silence.
"I'll take that silence as a yes," he said. "But I don't trust him yet. I'll test him myself."
She didn't reply. She walked out in silence.
As the door shut, Mr. Jude pressed a button on his microphone.
"Send Noah Calden to my office. Now."
---
Celeste's Return to Class
She walked the halls slowly, thinking.
"Why didn't I answer? Why did I stay silent?"
Her hand trembled just a little.
"Because he really is different."
She entered the classroom. A male teacher stood at the board. She took her seat and stared blankly at her book.
For once, she didn't pay attention. Her mind was elsewhere.
---
After School
Class ended. Bags were packed. Students left.
Celeste's phone buzzed. She answered.
"How did it go?" she asked.
Mr. Jude's voice crackled. "It didn't work."
"What didn't work?"
"The test. I tried bribing him. Tempting him. He didn't bend. The boy can't be moved by money or fame. He's the first student in years that didn't blink at wealth."
Celeste's fingers tightened on the phone.
"I see."
She ended the call and stood silently.
"He really is different. That idiot."
She shook her head and lightly slapped her own cheeks.
"No. Don't think like that."
Her black car pulled up outside. The men in suits opened the door.
She didn't look back as she stepped in.
---
Noah's Walk Home
He stepped out of the academy gates, the city skyline glowing in the dusk.
The roads buzzed with hovercars and talking streetlights. But Noah walked quietly, alone.
He pulled out his phone. "I don't think I can make it to work today," he said. "I better call Mrs. Rose."
His fingers hovered over the dial.
He sighed.
"I still don't know what I've gotten myself into."
He walked on, disappearing into the city's fading light.
---
Later…
Noah pushed open the creaky door to his small apartment. It wasn't much — just a room, a small bed, a fan that barely worked, and a shelf with old books his parents once loved. The walls were cracked, paint peeling in corners. A single photo frame stood beside his pillow — his parents, smiling.
He dropped his bag on the bed, letting it fall with a thud. His shoulders ached. His head buzzed. He pulled out the old telephone on the shelf and slowly dialed a number.
It rang.
Then a sharp voice came through.
"Huh? Why aren't you here already?" It was Mrs. Rose, his boss.
Noah cleared his throat. "I called to say… I won't be making deliveries today."
"What?" she barked. "You think I'm paying you to slack off? What do you think this is, a playground?!"
"I'm sorry," Noah said softly. "I'm just… tired. School was heavy today. I want to rest."
"School again?" Her voice cracked like thunder. "Why go to school when you can't even afford your meals or fees? Be honest, Noah! You're not from a family of kings — you're barely scraping by! If you just quit school and worked full time—"
Noah smiled faintly. "I can't do that."
There was silence on the line.
"Velmont Institute was my parents' dream," he continued. "It was the only school they ever wanted me to attend. For giving me a chance to work, I'm grateful. I won't forget what you did for me, Mrs. Rose."
"Hmph," she muttered, softer now.
Noah gently placed the phone back. He didn't let the words stick. He was used to it.
He walked to the bathroom. The water was cold, but he didn't mind. He cleaned up, changed into a plain black shirt and trousers, then stepped out into the night.
---
On the Highway…
The sky above was dim. Neon signs blinked. Drones zipped by overhead. Streetlamps buzzed with weak yellow light. The city never truly slept — it just slowed down enough to let the nightmares breathe.
Noah walked, hands in pockets. His footsteps echoed under the overpass.
That's when he saw it.
A white van.
A group of men in masks. A girl screaming, her voice muffled by cloth.
"Help me! Somebody!"
The people walking by… ignored it.
The van sped off into the night. No one stopped it.
Not even Noah.
He stood there for a moment. Silent. Then he turned and walked away.
---
Somewhere in the City…
A rundown house.
Wooden floors rotted from the inside. Windows boarded up. Mold clung to the walls. Inside, the gang dragged the girl — still screaming — down the hall.
A man with a scar down his cheek, the leader, grinned as he tied her to a metal chair. "We're gonna make a fortune off this one."
"Should I call the cops?" one asked.
"Yeah. Tell 'em 20 million. Or the princess here loses her tongue."
They laughed.
And then—
CRASH.
Glass shattered from above.
A shadow dropped into the room — black suit, black boots, face covered by a sleek mask with silver lines. His presence hit like a gust of wind.
"Who the hell—?!" the leader snapped. "Who are you?!"
The figure stood tall, voice deep but cold.
"I am Godzilla."
The gang froze. Then—
Laughter.
"Godzilla?! What kind of stupid—"
"Kill him," the leader ordered.
A large brute charged forward, cracking his knuckles.
The masked figure — Godzilla — didn't move until the last second.
He ducked.
WHAM!
He drove his foot right between the man's legs. The brute collapsed, groaning.
Three more rushed him.
Godzilla spun, pulling a boomerang from under his coat. He tossed it high.
The leader scoffed. "What's that supposed to do—"
CLINK.
It hit the chandelier above.
The chandelier, made of old kitchen knives, collapsed.
CLANG!
The knives rained down like deadly hail.
Screams.
Blood splattered across the walls.
Three of the men dropped. Two writhed in pain.
The leader backed up, horrified.
"How… how did you…?"
Godzilla stood in the red light.
"I knew where you'd take her," he said. "I know every rotten hole in this city."
He stepped forward, eyes locked on the leader.
"You're all the same. You think no one's watching. But I am. I always am."
The leader pulled a gun from his coat. "You think you're some damn hero?!"
He fired.
Godzilla dodged left.
In one swift move, he flung the boomerang again.
CLACK!
It knocked the gun from the leader's hand.
CRACK!
He drove his knee into the man's stomach. The leader gasped, falling.
Godzilla turned to the girl.
She trembled as he knelt and untied her hands.
"It's okay," he said. "You're safe now."
She looked up. "Who are you?"
He pulled the black cloth from her face.
Her eyes widened.
It was Celeste.
Noah froze.
She blinked. "You… know me?"
She reached up and ripped off his mask.
Her mouth parted in shock.
"Noah?"
"There's no time," he said. "Let's go."
They ran. Past the blood. Past the broken glass.
But behind them—
The leader crawled across the floor.
His fingers wrapped around the gun again.
He lifted it slowly.
His finger on the trigger.
"I won't let you get away."
He fired.
BANG.
Time stopped.
Noah felt the grip on his hand loosen.
He turned.
Celeste stood still. Her mouth opened.
Blood leaked from her lips.
She collapsed.
"C—Celeste?!"
He caught her before she hit the floor. Blood gushed from her chest, staining his shirt, his hands.
"No… no no no…"
He shook her. "Celeste!! Stay with me!"
She didn't move.
Her eyes were blank.
Dead.
The world fell silent.
His ears rang.
The blood was warm. Too warm.
He stared at it. His hands. Her body.
And then—
He screamed.
The pain broke him.
Flashes of his parents — lifeless. Cold. Murdered.
"No… not again… not again…"
His voice cracked. Tears spilled. His body shook as he held her close.
Behind him, the leader laughed.
Noah stood.
Dead eyes. Bloody hands.
He picked up the gun.
BANG.
The leader fell back, a shot to the leg.
BANG.
To the chest.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
He emptied the clip. Again. Again.
The man was long dead. But Noah kept pulling the trigger until the gun clicked dry.
He dropped it.
Walked back to Celeste.
Knees weak.
He lifted her.
Blood smeared his face. His shirt. His soul.
He walked out of the house.
---
Sirens.
Police cars screeched to a halt outside.
"DROP THE GIRL!" they shouted. "HANDS UP!"
He didn't move.
"I said DROP HER!"
He kept walking.
Then—
Gunfire.
RATATATAT.
Bullets tore through his chest. His legs. His arm. Blood sprayed.
He didn't stop.
Another shot hit his side. He stumbled.
His grip on Celeste loosened.
Then—
He dropped.
She fell from his arms.
Noah collapsed over her, blood pooling around them.
Everything faded.
---
Footsteps.
A cop approached.
"He's just a kid…"
"What have we done…?"
Another voice, colder. "We can't let this leak. If the public finds out…"
"Hide the bodies."
---
Noah's Final Thoughts…
As blood poured from his mouth, he smiled faintly.
"I couldn't save her…"
"Mom… Dad…"
"I always thought I'd die fighting monsters…"
"But I died by the hands of those I called heroes."
His eyes dimmed.
"This world… this city…"
"It really is… a sinful place."
His eyes closed.
And all was still.