The flickering light on the ceiling cast jagged shadows across the dim room, amplifying the chaos.
Screams tore through the suffocating air as the priest stumbled backward, clutching his silver crucifix like a lifeline.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immunde spiritus, omni satanica potestas, omnis incursio
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomini et
virtute Domini nostri Jesu Christi...!" He persisted, fighting earnestly for his voice to be heard among the chaos.
A black-haired lady stood rooted in place, her hands trembling in fear as she clutched the small cross pendant around her neck.
Her eyes were tightly shut as she muttered prayers beneath her breath. Opening her eyes, her tears flowed ceaselessly.
Having to watch her son perform an exorcism was a different feeling, one she would never get used to.
Too bad, at that time and space, all she could be was a spectator, else why would she, Maria Rosa, be here?
The same scene played over and over again, stretching from the quiet of the night to the bustling of the day, but each event was different as she never got used to the fear it struck at her heart.
"Hahahaha....you're wasting your time!"
She snapped her head towards the bed to see the possessed boy, who looked to be around ten snarl, his voice a grotesque mix of pained growls and high-pitched screeches.
The air reeked of sulfur and decayed flesh, a sharp contrast to the church incense that struggled to mask the stench.
"Begone, demon!" The priest, her son, who had uncharacteristic white hair, shouted, his voice cracking as he thrust his relic forward.
The loud sound of it rolling over the floor reverberated through the noise.
The entity laughed once more, his head thrown backwards. Moving its hand effortlessly, it threw him against the wall with an invisible force making her hold her breath.
The sound of her son's body hitting stone sent a shiver down her spine as her heart pounded against her chest. She wanted to help, to do something, but she was frozen, powerless.
The young boy's head snapped towards her, his blackened eyes boring into her soul.
"You can't protect him this time," the demon hissed. "No one can!"
And pointing towards Seven who struggled to get up, his grin stretched from ear to ear. Seven looked up, not blinking as his eyes suddenly reflected a bright golden light. His expression was one of desperation and struggle.
And just then, like a faulty bulb, the glow in his eyes died down reverting to its initial white ghostly color. His expression changed to one of extreme fear and a demonic laughter reverberated through the entire room once more.
Everything seemed to dim as the scene drowns out everything else...
"What did I tell you?" The entity said mockingly, referring to her. And turning back to look at her son Seven, he said coldly...
"YOUR SIN WILL SEEK YOU OUT!"
---
Rosa gasped awake, her chest heaving as she struggled to escape the remnants of the nightmare.
Sweat clung to her brow, and the faint scent of sulfur still lingered in her nose. The vision felt too real, too vivid to dismiss.
She turned her head, her gaze landing on Seven. He stood in the doorway of her room, his white ghostly eyes and silhouette illuminated by the faint morning light. His expression was unreadable, but the soft glow of his eyes betrayed his unease.
"Mom, are you okay?" he asked, his voice low.
Rosa exhaled, forcing a smile she didn't feel. "Just a dream," she murmured. "I'm fine."
---
The kitchen was quiet except for the clatter of dishes as Rosa set breakfast on the table. Seven sat across from her, idly pushing a piece of toast around his plate.
His usual black outfits appeared as a sharp contrast to his pale features. It hung loosely on his lean frame.
His long white hair with red patches was swept back and covered with a black head warmer. Some stubborn strands peeked out of it, partially covering his white eerily eyes.
"You know, you could at least pretend to be excited about starting fresh," Rosa said, her tone light but edged with worry.
Seven glanced up, his eyes flickering briefly before he looked away. "I'm not good at 'fresh starts,' Mom. We've tried this before, twice, remember?"
Rosa sighed. She didn't need the reminder. Seven's last school had been a disaster— his constant "episodes," his strange behavior, and the 'imaginary friend' he couldn't let go of.
Stacy, he had called her...
To Rosa, she painfully trusted her son was telling the truth. To the teachers and students, it was a sign of something much worse.
"You'll do fine," she said, though her voice wavered. "This school is different. They're more... understanding."
Seven snorted. "Understanding? You mean they don't mind a kid who talks to ghosts?"
Rosa froze, watching motionlessly as the sausages sizzled in the frying pan. "Seven," she started, but he cut her off.
"Mum, I have no one..."
"You have me, don't you?" Rosa's voice wavered.
"You don't count, Mum," Seven muttered, staring at his plate.
"Why not?" She turned to look at him, her chest tightening. "Because I'm your mother?"
"Yes! We keep pretending I'm normal, but we both know I'm not."
"It's only a matter of time before they figure that out and—and that's it for me again." His tone was clipped, but his fingers fiddled nervously with his bracelet that had a cross pendant hanging on it.
A habit he had formed with passing trial times.
Bending his head low, he said in a whisper, "Forget humans; ghosts aren't that nice either. Stacy was a friend, she was there from the beginning but she still possessed me when she got the chance..."
"What if... what if something like that happens again? What if—"
"It won't," Rosa interrupted firmly, setting the pan down carefully. She walked towards Seven, reached across the table, and placed a hand over his.
"You're not that little boy anymore. You're stronger now. And Stacy—" she hesitated, searching for the right words. Stacy's gone."
Seven didn't respond, but the tension in his shoulders remained.
---
The school loomed ahead, an imposing structure of gray stone and iron gates. Rosa's grip on the steering wheel tightened as she parked the car.
"Here we are," she said, forcing a cheerfulness that felt hollow.
"Your new beginning."
Seven didn't move. He stared out the window, his expression unreadable. Rosa followed his gaze to the towering entrance, where groups of students milled about, laughing and chatting.
'They looked so happy', Seven thought. An emotion he wasn't used to. He watched them hug and greet their friends excitedly as they rolled their suitcases into the school.
"You'll be fine," Rosa said, interrupting his train of thoughts. Her words calmed her more than her son.
Seven finally opened the door, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. As he stepped out to get his suitcase from the boot, Rosa came down, too, and helped him out. Giving him a hug and a subtle kiss on the forehead...
"One more thing...never take your bracelet off okay? Remember what Padre said." She shuddered lightly as his words echoed in her mind—it kept them far away.
"Hmm," he nodded, pursing his lips. He turned slowly and started walking towards the school gate.
Going back to the car, she wiped the tears that she permitted to flow once Seven wasn't looking. Just before she entered, she called after him, "And remember—stay out of trouble!"
He paused, glancing back at her with a faint smirk. "No promises."
Rosa watched him walk toward the gates, her heart heavy with a mix of hope and dread. The vision from her dream lingered in her mind, the demon's voice echoing: You can't protect him!
---
Seven's steps slowed as he passed through the gates. The laughter and chatter of his peers faded into the background, replaced by an eerie silence.
It took a while to take in the whole view of the school.
In the middle was a huge statue of a man and the five huge buildings were arranged in a rectangular formation around it. Two on each side with the largest facing him.
The weak cracks on them told countless stories, it added an ominous feeling to the atmosphere as well.
A small one sat, excluded just beside the gate and with the amount of students lined up there, he guessed it was the reception. Proceeding to that direction too his stoic face twitched ever so slightly.
Suddenly he stopped, turning his head slightly. The sensation was faint but unmistakable—a prickle at the base of his neck, like unseen eyes boring into him.
"Great," he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Day one, and I'm already losing it."
But then, the faint glow in his eyes intensified, a golden hue that flickered like burning embers. The feeling didn't go away; it grew stronger, more oppressive.
He glanced around, his gaze landing on a reflective surface around the corner. For a split second, he thought he saw something move in the glass, something that wasn't him.
Shaking his head, Seven shoved his hands into his pocket and turned to leave but his peripheral vision caught another abnormality.
Taking glances around him to check if anyone was paying attention...he outstretched his hand to touch the mirror.
Immediately, his hand got close, an electrifying sensation rushed up his hand, the recoil force making him jolt back a little. His head snapping backwards as his eyes faced the sky.
The rays of the merciless sun brushed against his face as a hum of songs assaulted his ear. It felt like it was projected to his ear alone, so no one could hear.
He squinted his eyes to shut the inhuman chant subsequently facing the ominous mirror once again.
A flicker in the reflection appeared once he opened his eyes to stare. Not his face, but of another twisted human was there in place of him, staring daggers to his soul.
It was accompanied by a silent whisper at the edge of his mind: "You don't belong here".