Chapter 6
2299words
Wait... no, I must stay sane. Mr. S'dala wouldn't like to see me sad. I must stay sane, I must... for Mr. S'dala.
I don't know why he even bothers with me. He probably sees potential, something to fix within me. If he saw me like this or even saw my diaries, slipping... further away, he'd be disappointed. I can't let that happen. Not to him.
...I'll write later.
—Slyvian Blackbird 🐦⬛
I placed my notebook under the loose floorboard inside my cramped closet, the only safe place I had in this broken-down apartment. The wood groaned softly as I pressed it back into place. After securing the board back in place, I limped over to the window.
There are bruises down my side and across my legs, gifts from mother and her boyfriend for messing up the steaks for dinner. My breath hitched, but I pressed on, gripping the peeling windowsill as I looked out.
Below, the alley was quiet, dark, wide... swallowing. Nothing moved. The usual clatter of bottles, the occasional scream, or dark figures roaming around was all absent. No fights, no blood. Just silence. A rare thing in the Underbelly alleys.
Nothing tonight, I thought, feeling disappointed. The usual chaos is my only distraction. The only way to forget my miserable, powerless life. It's like the city itself had turned its back on me.
I looked at my reflection in the cracked glass. The person staring back at me is familiar. Dull eyes, swollen lip, grey deathly skin, dark black eyes, long black hair and most of all... skinny. This is me.
I turned away.
Hopefully, the bruises will heal overnight, I told myself, though the lie rang hollow. They never did, not fast enough. But that didn't matter. I'd survive. I always had.
The blanket on the wooden floor offered little comfort. Just a thin, worn, itchy material that served as my bed on the hard floor. I lay down slowly, curling in tight, burying my face against my knees as the cold air hits my exposed skin but, I barely noticed it anymore.
The darkness closed in, wrapping me in a heavy, suffocating embrace. But in the depths of it, I held on to one thought, one person who kept me from falling completely into the darkness.
I must stay sane... for Mr. S'dala.
Meanwhile, in the silence of the school's halls, footsteps stepped faintly. Nathaniel and his friends were quick, quiet and alert.
"Remind me again why we're here?" Sophia whispered, conjuring a tiny flame in her palm. Her pyrokinesis lit their path, the flickering fire casting eerie shadows on the walls.
"Beats me," Olivia muttered. "But I'm guessing Nathaniel wouldn't drag us here unless it mattered. Especially with Mr. S'dala's ID."
"Yeah, where exactly are we going, Nathaniel?" Andrew asked, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his steps echoing faintly on the tile.
"You'll know if you keep quiet," Nathaniel snapped, a sign that he wasn't in the mood for questions, suddenly halting. The others bumped to a stop behind him.
Sophia's nerves went on edge, and her flames flared slightly. "What is it?"
Before Nathaniel could respond, slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the hall. The sound causing the group to tense up.
"In here," Nathaniel hissed, pulling the library door open just enough for them to slip inside. Sophia extinguished her flame, plunging them into thick darkness.
They crouched low behind the bookshelves, the silence around them suddenly deafening. No one dared breathe too loudly.
The footsteps drew closer, paused right outside. The door creaked. A shadow pressed against it from the other side. Time froze.
No one moved.
Olivia's heart pounded in her chest. She kept her eyes on Nathaniel, waiting for his signal. She had never seen him look this focused before; his usual smug demeanor had been replaced by a sharp, calculating expression.
Finally, the footsteps resumed, receding until silence returned.
"What the hell was that about?" Andrew whispered.
Nathaniel ignored him, moving to the door. He opened it a crack and peered out. Down the hall, a teacher approached a janitor's closet. The man glanced around, slipped an ID card from his coat, and tapped it to a panel hidden in the wall. A barely audible click echoed down the hallway. The sound of locks disengaging followed, and the closet door swung open slowly.
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes as the teacher stepped into the closet, the door closing behind him with a soft thud. Moments later, there was a faint noise of something heavy shifting inside, echoing through the halls, indicating that the door had closed and locked.
Nathaniel turned to the others, he motioned for the them to follow. No words. They followed.
At the closet, Nathaniel pulled out Mr. S'dala's ID card, replicated he move he saw the teacher do. As he pressed the card against the hidden panel, they all heard the distinct sound of the locks disengaging.
Nathaniel pushed the door open.
He didn't push the door, Nathaniel thought distantly. But he continued to push it open anyway.
They quickly realized that it was no ordinary closet. What should have been a cramped janitor's closet with brooms, mops, cleaning bots, and forgotten cleaning supplies. But instead, darkness stretched out before them, impossibly deep.
It was a corridor. Metallic, lit by flickering amber lights.
Sophia gasped softly, reigniting her flame. "What is this place?" she whispered.
Nathaniel stepped forward, his eyes gleaming. "This," he smiled, "is exactly what we came here for."
They followed him in. The door thudded shut behind them.
Nathaniel, lead them down the dimly lit corridor, the corridor widened, revealing rows of ancient oil paintings of past heroes and rulers. The faces inside them watched. Alongside them stood displays of old-world tech: rusted frames, cracked data tablets, and flickering holograms.
One hologram stood out. It shimmered in and out of focus, projecting the image of a tall man clad in a sleek, black trench coat layered over form-fitting tactical gear. Everything about him showed and felt like authority. Everything, except his face.
The image glitched violently at the head, obscuring all but a single, very unsettling feature: a wide, static smile.
Olivia slowed in front of one particular oil frame.
It showed a blood-red battlefield cloaked in fog and fire. Chaos reigned and bodies dropping. At the center, a lone figure stood above the bodies, cloaked in deep crimson armor, face obscured by a shadowed helm. Dozens of black crows spiraled overhead, feather smeared with ash and blood.
"Who is that?" Olivia asked, pointing. Her voice cracked as if the image itself weighed on her chest.
Sophia, ever the historian among them, paused to examine the painting as well. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she recognized the figure. "That's Octavian," she said, her tone a mix of admiration and intrigue. "He was the very first and only villain who could match the power of the legendary heroes Aelia and Cyrus. Don't you ever listen in history class?"
"Heeeey, I get very tired after a long day," Sophia said.
He had cults, right?" Andrew added, looking between the others. "Whole groups that believed he could reshape the world."
Sophia nodded. "Entire armies worshipped him. He had great strength and unbeatable smarts. He was feared by many, strategic, manipulative, lots of admiration from others, and always ten moves ahead."
Olivia's eyes remained fixated on the crows circling Octavian, their dark wings almost seeming to move within the painting. "And those crows...? What do they mean?"
Sophia's smile widened as she explained. "The crows were said to be his harbingers of death, an extension of his own power. They fed off the chaos of battle, growing stronger with each dead body on the battlefield. Some believed that the crows were his eyes, his spies, watching and reporting back to him from every corner of the world."
A hush settled.
Andrew broke it. "He was defeated, though. Right?"
Sophia nodded. "Well, of course, that happened a long time ago. It literally took both Aelia and Cyrus to bring him down. Oh, and here's a fun little fact, some say that his loyal followers are spread across the world and still worship him to this day. They're trying to find his spirit, which lingers, waiting for the right moment to return. Ooooh!" she joked.
Olivia's skin shivered. She took a small step back. "You think someone like him could return?"
Before anyone could answer, Nathaniel's voice rang out. "Hurry up."
He didn't wait for a reply.
Olivia took one last look at the painting. The crows looked like they were watching her.
She hurried after the others.
At the end of the corridor stood a thick metal door, set into the wall like a vault. No markings. No handle. Only hand print scanner.
Nathaniel sucked his teeth at the set back.
"How could this be in a school?" Olivia whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why would they keep this hidden?"
Nathaniel stepped forward. The group huddled closer as his pressed his ear more firmly against the cold metal door. They could hear whispering, but it was very faint, distorted by the thickness of the door. However, they could hear fragments of it.
"Jigoku is....happy about this..."
"...progress too slow..."
"...if he takes it now... it'll destroy him... Plus... everything's at risk."
Nathaniel tensed. Every word felt loaded, dangerous. Who was Jigoku? What were they trying to control?
Andrew leaned in. "What the hell are they talking about?"
"Shut up," Nathaniel hissed, holding up a hand.
A voice from behind. Smooth. Quiet.
"You kids are quite snoopy, aren't you hm?"
They all turned, startled.
Mr. S'dala stood at the far end of the corridor, arms calmly behind his back, his smile as soft as ever, but his eyes... those orange eyes gleamed with something... different.
"Mr. S'dala," Sophia breathed, taking a small step back. Her flame flaring.
Nathaniel's jaw tightened in irritation. He was usually so attuned to his surroundings, always aware of any threat before it appeared, but he hadn't sensed Mr. S'dala at all. Not a footstep. Not a breath. That shouldn't have been possible. Not for Nathaniel. How long had he been watching them?
"How long have you been there?" Nathaniel asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He quickly calculated how to play this, how to control the situation before it spiraled out of his hands.
Mr. S'dala didn't answer right away.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his orange eyes glinting with something that Nathaniel couldn't quite place.
"Long enough," he said. "Long enough to wonder what exactly you are all doing here after hours and wondering why my ID card is currently in someone else's pocket."
His smile didn't waver.
Sophia stammered, her flame beginning to fade. "We... we were just curious... We didn't mean any harm."
Olivia and Andrew remained silent, their eyes darting between Nathaniel and Mr. S'dala, waiting for Nathaniel to take control of the situation. Nathaniel knew that he needed to tread carefully.
"We weren't trying to break anything. Just... exploring." Nathaniel said smoothly. "It's a big school, lots of history. You know how it is, teenagers getting into places they shouldn't. We weren't doing anything wrong."
"A unfixable habit," S'dala said lightly, "but a dangerous one. Some places, Nathaniel," he turned his gaze to the metal door, " are locked for a reason. So it's best to leave it alone. For your own safety."
Nathaniel met his gaze evenly. "Is that a warning?"
"A suggestion." S'dala corrected, his tone softened. "Curiosity can lead to dangerous places. Sometimes it's better not to know what's behind certain doors. The more you learn, the more you're responsible for what you do with it."
A long pause followed.
Nathaniel stared at him, trying to gauge how much Mr. S'dala knew. But the teacher's face gave nothing away. Eventually, Nathaniel nodded, deciding to play along for now. "Understood, Mr. S'dala. We'll go home."
Mr. S'dala nodded, his smile still there. "Good. I'd hate to see any of you get hurt because of a little curiosity."
Another long pause.
Then. S'dala extended his hand to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel's stomach sank.
The teacher knew that Nathaniel had his ID card. He didn't look at Olivia, Sophia, not even Andrew. No. He looked straight at Nathaniel cause he knew he has his ID. Which only means, Slyvian has been caught. The thought sent a wave of anger coursing through Nathaniel, but he forced himself to remain composed.
With a forced smile, Nathaniel reached into his pocket and pulled out the ID card.
He handed it over.
S'dala took it with ease. "Thank you, Nathaniel," he said.
Nathaniel clenched his jaw, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his expression neutral. The others watched in dead silence, tense and unsure of what to do or say. They had all been outmaneuvered.
S'dala pocketed the card and gave a polite nod. "Now, head home it's quite late. Curiosity may be natural, but it has its price."
Nathaniel turned, his shoulders tense. "Let's go."
No one argued, their footsteps echoing in the silent hallway.
Outside the school building, the air hit them and was cold, but the heat building in Nathaniel's body refused to fade away.
