72 Pillar

I sat in my wooden desk, surrounded by a sea of students who appeared just as tired, irritated, and yearning to be anywhere else as I did. But like me, they had no choice. My schedule for the day comprised seven classes in total: Mathematics, English, P.E., History, Science, Digital art, and now my last class, Study Skills. This class was tailored for students who struggled to pay attention and needed extra help understanding the material. It also served as a quiet space for students to do homework and study, giving me the chance to contemplate my strange encounter with Madelyn.

My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and questions bombarded me like rapid-fire. Who was that girl in my house this morning? Why did it feel like I'd met her before? And why in the world was the girl of my dreams, Madelyn Adams, shrouded in some sort of dark mist that felt as cold as ice and sent shivers down my spine? This mist was as familiar to me as the strange girl I'd encountered earlier in the morning. I couldn't shake the feeling that there might be some connection between Madelyn and the girl who'd threatened my life earlier. But what could it be? My curiosity was demanding answers, and I fully intended to satisfy those demands, one way or the other.

I turned my head and looked over my shoulder to find Harold sitting right behind me at the same wooden desk, engrossed in a book to pass the time. Today being the first day of school, there was no homework to do, leaving most of the students in the classroom utterly bored and searching for something to keep themselves occupied. Of all the students in the room, Harold was the only one who chose to read a book to engage his mind. The rest were either fixated on the clock on the wall or secretly on their phones, texting or discreetly taking selfies to pass the time. Harold was a bit of an anomaly in our age group, preferring a book over a phone, but he wasn't the only one.

My desk was conveniently placed beside a classroom window, offering me a view of the outside world and the warm sun's rays dancing on my skin. With a clear blue sky and fluffy clouds, it was enough to keep me occupied.

Peace filled my heart as I gazed at the serene blue sky, but another question crept into my mind, replacing that sense of calm with doubt and fear. It was a simple question: If the dark mist was truly there, if it had really surrounded Madelyn's body as my vision had suggested, then why couldn't Harold, my best friend, or anyone else see it? Was it even there to begin with, or was I gradually losing my mind—a conclusion I had no room to doubt, not after this morning's bizarre encounter with a strange and potentially dangerous girl who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere in my own house and then vanished before my eyes, leaving me with a cryptic warning.

"They are coming...." The ominous message kept echoing in my mind. Who were "they," and why were they coming?

As I pondered these unsettling questions, my train of thought was abruptly disrupted. I caught sight of something, or someone, moving behind the school gate that served as the protective barrier against unwelcome visitors. A shiver ran down my spine as curiosity and fear intertwined, urging me to investigate further.

My eyes remained fixated on the mysterious figure cloaked in shadow just beyond the closed school gate. After a few minutes, my initial curiosity morphed into confusion. The individual I was observing appeared to be a well-built man, seemingly dressed in a fine suit. He stood too far away for me to make out his features clearly, but one thing was certain: he hadn't budged from his current location. There were no signs that he intended to enter the school, and yet, if he did wish to do so, there were easier ways.

Crestview High was a reputable school, but when it came to entering the premises covertly, it wasn't all that challenging. The school was vast, offering numerous potential points of unauthorized entry. Despite the increased security personnel hired to patrol the grounds, there were still ample opportunities to sneak in unnoticed. In truth, the front gate of the school seemed more like an ornamental facade than an actual barrier.

The more time passed, the more uncomfortable I became. The man still stood motionless by the school gate, resembling a statue. Though I couldn't be entirely sure, I couldn't shake the uneasy sensation that the enigmatic figure was somehow fixated on me. It sounded crazy, especially considering I couldn't see his face, but I couldn't deny that I felt his attention locked onto me.

"RING, RING, RING." The school bell's chime resonated through the room, infusing the students with renewed energy and excitement. The school day was finally over.

I tore my gaze away from the mysterious presence outside and turned toward Harold, who was stowing the book he had been reading into his backpack.

"Well, Ethan, my man, the day is finally over, and we're free men," Harold declared, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

I swiftly disregarded Harold's words, my attention returning to the window, hoping to catch sight of the man by the school gate once more. To my disappointment, he had vanished, leaving no trace of his presence. This inexplicable disappearance scared the shit out of me.

"Hey, man, you alright?" Harold inquired, placing his left hand on my right shoulder.

"Uh... yeah, I'm fine, just ready to get out of here," I replied, forcing a smile that masked my unease.

"Alright, then, let's go," Harold said, walking towards the door and leaving me behind, amidst the other students still in the classroom.

I wasted no time grabbing my bag, eager to put this day behind me. All I wanted was to get home, catch some sleep, and forget the strange occurrences. However, my plans were halted by a voice from behind.

"Mr. Brumfield."

I turned around and saw my study skills teacher, Ms. Olivia Rose, sitting behind her desk, gesturing for me to come over.

"Could you please give me a little bit of your time?" Ms. Rose asked with patience.

"Uh, yes, ma'am," I replied, trying to sound as polite as possible as I walked cautiously to the front of her desk.

"Mr. Brumfield," Ms. Rose said, her eyes meeting mine, radiating with a determination and strength that warned anyone who gazed into them that this woman was not to be trifled with.

Ms. Rose's tone turned more serious, and her words sent a chill down my spine. "I just wish to inform you that I've read your file, I know what you did last year as a freshman."

My body trembled as I couldn't help but recall that day, a day filled with my greatest mistake. The screams and the memories of that fateful event flooded my mind, and a sense of unease enveloped me as the conversation had just begun.

"Look... I do not wish to open old wounds, nor do I wish to shame you about past mistakes, but as your teacher, I must warn you that this mistake must not be repeated. I, along with your other teachers, expect you to be a model student this year. Do I make myself clear?" Ms. Rose asked with great severity.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, eager to end the discussion as quickly as possible.

"Very well, you are dismissed," Ms. Rose said, her lips forming a small smile that did little to ease my discomfort.

I hurriedly walked towards the door, and upon opening it, my eyes landed on Harold, who was waiting right outside for me to appear.

"Dude, finally. What was that all about?" Harold asked, clearly growing impatient from waiting.

"Sorry, the teacher wanted to talk to me for a little while," I replied as both of us strolled through the halls.

"Talk? About what?" Harold inquired, peering at me with a curious look.

I gazed into Harold's eyes with worry. I didn't want to reveal to him that our new study skills teacher not only knew about my greatest mistake but also warned me against repeating it this year. I didn't want my best friend to carry any blame for my actions. However, as I looked into his eyes, I found myself unable to lie. The truth needed to be heard.

"Ms. Rose knows what I did when I was a freshman. She knows, just like almost everyone else does," I admitted, avoiding Harold's gaze in embarrassment. "She warned me against any repeats this year."

Harold remains silent as we continue walking through the school's boundaries. No words are exchanged between us. Me and Harold eventually exit Crestview High's vicinity and find ourselves retracing the path we took earlier that morning. The blue sky is transitioning to a warm orange, indicating the late afternoon. Many students walk in groups, heading home, while me and Harold stick together, providing each other with companionship.

As we walk, I suddenly realize I'm walking alone. I turn around and find Harold, no longer wearing a smile, but instead, his expression is one of sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he says in a hushed tone, almost a whisper.

"Ever since our Freshman year, I've always felt regret for how it all ended," Harold confesses, looking down with a sense of guilt.

"You went through so much, all because you had to protect me," he continues, unable to meet my eyes.

"If only I was..." Harold trails off, unable to finish the thought.

As I cut off Harold from his self-deprecating words, I say, "Harold, stop."

"What I did, what those bullies did that day, was not your fault," I assert with unwavering certainty.

I approach Harold, who's still as a statue and just as silent as the gentle breeze ruffling our hair.

"People can say and even think what they want about me, but I will never have any regrets about what I did that day," I declare with a warm smile.

"Standing up for my best friend is something I will always do," I promise with conviction.

Harold gazes into my eyes for what feels like an eternity, and as the burden of guilt, shame, and depression lifts from his face, it's replaced by the familiar bright, cheerful smile I've known for years.

"Thanks, man," Harold says with a laugh as we exchange a friendly slap of hands.

But then a voice cuts in, unsettling our camaraderie: "Well, well, well..."

I spin around to see a man, a man in a black business suit. Although I can't be certain, there's an unsettling suspicion that this is the same man I saw near the school gate. This stranger has short black hair and unnaturally pale skin. What alarms me even more than his appearance is that he's surrounded by the same dark mist that I witnessed around Madelyn earlier. However, this mist seems more sinister, sending a shiver down my spine as I gaze upon it.

"The bonds of friendship are a wonderful thing to make," the man says, closing his eyes and placing his hands over his heart, as if deeply moved by the concept.

"But you know what's even more wonderful?" The man's voice quivered with an eerie calmness. His eyes remained closed, maintaining an unsettling serenity.

"Seeing such a bond wither and die!" The moment he opened his eyes, it was as if an abyss had stared back at me. His gaze was impenetrably dark, devoid of any white or any sign of humanity. It was like staring into the void itself, and I truly didn't know how such eyes could even exist.

The temperature seemed to plummet as the dark aura around the man grew even more menacing.

"Ethan?"

I swung around, catching Harold's terrified gaze as he called my name in hushed disbelief.

"I feel like I'm in some kind of nightmare," Harold stammered, trembling from head to toe. "What's up with that guy's eyes? And that creepy darkness surrounding him?"

I couldn't help but share in Harold's confusion. He was witnessing the same eerie phenomena I was, confirming that I wasn't descending into madness, which was a small comfort in this horrible situation, Lucky me.

The man advanced toward us, his steps heavy with menace.

"To think I would stumble upon an untrained Pillar out in the world, defenseless," the man mused with a hint of excitement.

"Pillar?" I muttered under my breath, puzzled.

"Huh?" The man appeared perplexed by my reaction.

The sinister look in his eyes shifted to one of sympathy. "Oh, poor boy, do you not know who you truly are?" His face took on a melancholic expression as he regarded me with nothing but pity.

"Have no worries, young and naïve Pillar. I shall liberate you from doubt and confusion," he declared with an unsettling cheerfulness. "Yes indeed I will free you when I kill you and your friend of course."

My fear grew as the stranger's words sunk in. It was clear he had no intention of explaining himself.

"W-who are you?" I managed to stutter, fear making the words difficult to articulate.

In an instant, the man vanished right before my eyes, leaving me and Harold in a frantic search of our surroundings, but there was no sign of him anywhere.

"Where did he go?" Harold's voice trembled as sweat ran down his face.

Our situation wasn't great. I'd dabbled in Taekwondo as a kid, so I had some knowledge about self-defense, but I wasn't a genius. Losing sight of your enemy was a cardinal sin in combat, and we where probably going to get our ass kicked.

Harold and I stood back to back, every nerve on high alert. The encounter began with the roar of the wind, followed by Harold's chilling scream. Before I could react, a frigid hand encircled my neck. It all happened in the blink of an eye, leaving me gasping for air as the stranger lifted me off the ground, strangling me with one hand.

Helplessly, I glimpsed Harold on the ground, bleeding from the attack. My vision blurred from the lack of air, but I could still see the stranger's face, twisted with a malevolent glee. And that's when I knew...

"I'm going to die."

"Don't fret, young Pillar. Believe me when I say I'm doing you a favor," the man declared with a chilling certainty.

"Life never ends well for the children of Solomon."

I closed my eyes and reflected on all the things, all the people I was about to leave behind. My mom, my sister, and Harold, who might be joining me soon. A wave of regret and frustration overwhelmed me. How could I have been so weak?

"No," I snapped my eyes open, determined.

"I refuse... to die... here," I managed to say through the struggle.

The stranger's smile faded for a moment, but it quickly returned.

"Well, it looks like someone still has a little fight left in them," he laughed with an eerie excitement, sounding like a battle-hungry maniac.

"So be it, but believe me, boy, nothing will change!" The man roared as he hurled me into a stone wall in front of a house.

Good news: I could breathe again. Bad news: The force of the man's throw was enough to injure me severely. The stone wall still stood firm, but cracks marred its surface. My body felt wrong, and while I wasn't a doctor, I knew deep down that something was broken. I was much like Harold now, unable to move as I lay on the ground, defenseless.

"Come now, was that all you had, child?" The man mocked, crossing his arms as he loomed over me.

I hated to admit it, but he was right. That was really all I had.

"Well, too bad," the man said, moving toward me, ready to strike the finishing blow.

"Enough, demon."

A feminine voice rings out from afar, and as both the man and I turn our faces to look at the person who spoke such words of authority, I couldn't help but be shocked at the person who came to our rescue.

"Madelyn Adams?" I blurt out, bewildered by the unexpected appearance of the school's most popular girl.

***

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