Sall woke slowly, blinking against the morning light filtering through his window. His mind felt heavy, weighed down by memories of the previous night. The mask, its single horn and empty eye, and the horrifying silhouette of the creature replayed endlessly in his thoughts.
He noticed his clothes from last night, the sleeve torn at the forearm. The injury he thought he had suffered wasn't a dream—it was real. He touched his arm carefully, feeling the lingering sting and slight numbness, and glanced at the mask sitting calmly on his desk. It seemed almost alive, resting there as if watching him, demanding his attention.
Sall got out of bed and moved toward the kitchen, still processing the night's events. Abdul was there, preparing breakfast, the smell of toast and coffee filling the room.
"Good morning, Abdul… how are you?"
Sall asked, trying to sound normal despite the lingering tension in his voice.
Abdul looked up, giving a small, warm smile.
"Morning, Sall. I've enrolled you in a school."
Sall froze for a moment.
"Enrolled me? School… I'm going to school?"
Abdul nodded, still smiling gently.
"Yes. I thought about it, and I realized you shouldn't be forced to focus on matters of entities all the time. You can live your life however you want. Take your time. Make your own decisions."
Sall exhaled slowly, a mix of relief and uncertainty washing over him. No one was forcing him—he had a choice. That thought alone lightened a heavy weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
Abdul leaned forward slightly and asked,
"You wanted to tell me something?"
"Yes," Sall replied, his voice still trembling.
He told Abdul everything that had happened the night before: leaving for the convenience store, the strange feeling of being followed, the monstrous creature, the projectile that had struck his leg, the intense pain, and the mask that had mysteriously returned to his desk. Every detail was told in a mixture of fear and awe, his voice rising and falling as he relived the night.
Abdul listened intently, his expression softening as he heard Sall recount the attack.
"You… were attacked?"
he asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yes,"
Sall said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't understand it all. My leg… my arm… the mask… I thought I lost it, but it's here. And I woke up in my room… maybe the person who saved me brought me back."
Abdul nodded thoughtfully.
"The mask is linked to our family. Only members of our lineage can use it. That's why it returned to your desk. You didn't lose it—it's bound to you and your family. As for your injuries… perhaps the person who saved you used a healing blessing. It's rare, powerful, and capable of mending even the gravest wounds."
Sall absorbed the explanation, letting it settle into his mind. The world was bigger, stranger, and far more complicated than he had imagined. And now he had to navigate it, balancing a seemingly ordinary life with the reality of masks, pacts, and entities.
After breakfast, Sall got ready for school, putting on clean clothes and gathering his belongings. Abdul didn't interfere, simply observing quietly, a gentle reassurance in his eyes that Sall could take his time adjusting.
The morning air was crisp as Sall stepped outside. He took a deep breath, relishing the ordinary sights and sounds: birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind, and a few neighbors beginning their routines. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. For the first time in days, the calm of normal life felt almost precious.
Upon arriving at the school, Sall could already hear whispers among students.
As he entered the classroom, the teacher introduced him.
"Class, this is Sall. He has just returned from America."
The room erupted in murmurs and exclamations.
"Wow! You came from America?"
"Why are you back?"
"Really from Sylvain?"
Sall kept his head low, quietly responding, "I came back for my parents' funeral."
The murmurs quieted as the class absorbed his words. Sall settled into a desk in the middle of the classroom, noticing the familiar hum of students talking, chairs scraping, and papers rustling. For a moment, he simply watched, realizing how much he had missed these ordinary sounds. This normality, mundane yet comforting, had been absent for so long. The hectic, dangerous events of the past weeks had overshadowed life itself, and now, in this quiet classroom, Sall felt the weight of what he had been missing.
Classes passed uneventfully. Teachers spoke, students took notes, and Sall tried his best to focus, though his thoughts kept drifting back to the mask and the night's terror. Yet, the stability and rhythm of school life grounded him, reminding him that life, ordinary life, could continue amidst extraordinary circumstances.
During recess, Sall took out the lunch he had brought and sat alone on a bench. He unwrapped the food, appreciating the simple act of eating in peace. That's when a quiet voice approached him.
"You… you were attacked last night, weren't you?"
Sall looked up, startled. A girl from his class stood there, her expression calm but concerned. He blinked, confused.
"How… how did you know? How do you know that?"
Sall blinked, utterly stunned. His mouth hung open, words failing him as his mind tried to catch up. How… how could she possibly know? His heart raced, each beat hammering in his temples, a mixture of shock and unease washing over him.
He took a hesitant step back, his voice barely above a whisper.
"How… how do you know that?"
he stammered, caught between disbelief and worry.
The girl averted her gaze for a moment, fidgeting nervously with the edge of her sleeve. She didn't smile, gave no hint of reassurance, but her timidity was obvious in the way she hesitated, her shoulders slightly hunched as if shrinking away from the world. After a brief pause, she looked up at him again, voice low and hesitant:
"I… I was sent to ask you this question… and I was told to deliver the message to you."
Sall's eyes widened further, still trying to process it all.
"W-what kind of message?" he asked, voice trembling.
She lowered her gaze once more, biting her lower lip slightly, and said nothing further. She stayed frozen for a few moments, as if afraid to speak again, before turning gently on her heel and disappearing into the crowd of students.
Silence fell around him. Sall remained there, mouth agape, breath uneven, thoughts racing: who had sent this girl, and what exactly was the message she was tasked to deliver?