"Wait…" Salif whispered, his voice trembling yet firm, "if you know the entities… if you can really see them… the one in the corner of my room… right now… can you see it?"
Silence fell over the room. The curtains allowed a pale, hesitant shaft of light to enter, barely touching the corners where shadows lingered. Abdul looked at him, his eyes empty and calm, almost cold, yet there was an intensity there that seemed to pierce space and time itself.
"Yes. I see it," he replied, without the slightest hesitation.
Salif stumbled back slightly, his breath catching in his throat. No… it can't be true.
My own brother… could see a monster in my room… and he did nothing?
No, I can't believe it…
His hands shook, his thoughts collided in chaos. The fear that had gripped him night after night returned with a new, sharper edge. Suddenly, the world seemed to stretch beyond his understanding, and his brother, the one person he thought he knew, appeared as a riddle wrapped in a calm, unsettling presence.
Abdul tilted his head slightly, still measured, still in control.
"I left it there," he finally said, his voice soft but firm. "I needed to see if you could truly see them. If I had mentioned it to you before… and you couldn't see it… you would have thought I was insane. And that would have been extremely awkward… for you… for us."
Salif felt his heart race. The weight of the situation pressed down on him. He left me there… he watched… as a test… The mixture of fear and incomprehension overwhelmed him. He could no longer tell if his terror came from the entity—or from his own brother.
"And what if… what if it had attacked me?" he shouted, unable to contain his panic. "What would you have done then?!"
Abdul lowered his gaze to the bedspread, his eyes resting on his hand. Salif followed his movement, and then he saw it: the ring. Simple, elegant, yet it radiated a sense of significance, almost sacred. Salif recognized it immediately. His mother had given it to him before leaving for America, telling him it carried a protective blessing.
"This ring…" Abdul murmured, almost a whisper, "if it hadn't been there… this… this thing could have touched you."
Salif stared at the ring, heart hammering, memories flooding back: his mother's gentle smile, the soft words she had spoken, the comfort of her hands resting on his. Everything she had said now carried a weight he had never understood.
"The… blessing… of protection…" Salif breathed, his throat tight. The reality of the previous night—the entity, his fear, the inexplicable presence—all of it suddenly made sense. His family, his memories, the protections his mother had left for him… none of it had been meaningless. Perhaps what had happened was not mere chance. Perhaps everything was connected, part of a design he had yet to comprehend.
Abdul then moved toward the corner of the room where the entity hovered, silent and still. His fingers brushed the air with precision, and gradually, the dark, formless creature condensed, concentrating into a small sphere of light, softly pulsing with energy.
"Rest in peace," Abdul whispered.
The sphere shone for a brief moment, then disintegrated, transforming into fine dust that floated upward and vanished into the morning light. Salif shivered as he watched. The creature that had haunted him for nights seemed now reduced to a wisp of memory, yet its presence lingered, etched into the air, into his mind.
"Now… stand up," Abdul said, his eyes still fixed on him. "We're going home. I'll explain everything on the way."
Salif nodded slowly, still processing the enormity of what had just happened. He rose, feeling the memory of the entity's passage in the hollow of his hands. Each step toward the door felt heavy with meaning; every shadow in the house seemed to hold its breath. Fear, wonder, and confusion swirled inside him in a storm of emotions he could not yet name.
Outside, the world appeared unchanged, yet Salif knew nothing would ever be the same again. The day felt calm, but he could sense the invisible presence of other entities, forces he had never noticed before. Abdul walked beside him, silent and unyielding, yet his empty, penetrating gaze kept Salif tethered between awe and fear.
For the first time, he understood that his fear was not only of the entities but of what he was discovering about his family, the protections they had left, and himself. Everything he had believed about his life was now incomplete.
The path to truth had just begun, and Salif knew every moment would matter. The world he had thought he knew had expanded, revealing dimensions he had never imagined. And Abdul, calm, enigmatic, remained the silent guide through this uncharted journey.
Salif felt a strange mixture of dread and curiosity as they stepped into the street. Each breath of air seemed heavier, filled with potential and unseen energy. The memory of the ring, the blessing, and the small disintegration of the entity lingered in his mind, a reminder that there were forces in the world he had never truly seen—forces that were both dangerous and wondrous.
Even as the sunlight warmed his face, Salif's thoughts were on the mysteries still concealed, on the lessons yet to be learned, and on the subtle truth that the world he lived in was far more complex than he had ever imagined. And beside him, Abdul's empty eyes held all the answers he could not yet reach, silently urging him forward.
The journey home would not only take him back to familiar walls but also toward truths that would challenge everything he thought he knew. Each passing moment, each faint shadow and whispered thought, reminded him that the night's events were only the beginning—and that what lay ahead could shape the rest of his life.
Salif glanced one last time at where the entity had been, now nothing more than a faint trace in the morning air. He felt the weight of the blessing on his hand, the legacy of his mother, and a strange courage rising within him. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it.
And Abdul, ever calm, ever unreadable, remained by his side—watching, guiding, testing, protecting.
The journey had begun.