The Chamber of Sins
Chapter 4.1 "Death and dark creatures"

“What is wrong with you? You cannot divulge information so randomly, especially when I am in the middle of a conversation.” Robert said.

Derek giggled and slid against the wall.

“Why not?”

“Because you make me talk to myself like a lunatic. They cannot see you, remember? Stop telling me this kind of news. I am not interested. Just shut up!”

The toilet door opened, and Robert felt his ears going red. The boy threw a hatred look in Derek’s direction and left the room. He looked around, unsettled. From the distance, Arden waved and came towards him.

“Hey! Are you alright?”

“All good. A bit tired after the severe cold,” the boy said. “How is grandma?”

“My grandma? She’s fine,” Arden said, looking surprised.

“I have remembered her doughnuts, the ones filled with rhubarb jam,” Robert replied, his eyes wary, and then smiling, grabbed the boy by his shoulders. “Let’s have a cold drink.”

The boys entered the canteen exactly when Margo was trying to take a bite from a nice slice of chocolate cake lying in front of a red-headed girl. Robert burst into laughter, half of the kids turning in his direction. He went straight to the girl and pulled Margo’s hand. The next minute he realised she was invisible to everyone and continued walking relaxedly towards the till and addressed the lady behind the counter, “Give me two slices of that,” he said, pointing to the dark brown one.

“But you hate chocolate!” Arden remarked.

“I am just curious,” Robert stuttered. He took the plate, and with minimal eye contact with the others, he moved in the farthest corner, followed by Arden.

Good, now everybody thinks I am crazy, Robert thought.

Margo sat next to him, with an annoying lustful look in her eyes.

Back in the classroom the pendulum ticking interrupted Robert’s thoughts whilst trying to solve a math equation. The only pendulum in the building was way far in the director’s cabinet, on the ground floor in the East area. He knew this because his father had donated the antiquity. The annoying ticking was amplifying his temple ache, increasing his irascibility.

The squeaking marker accompanied by the teacher’s voice were pounding Robert’s skull like a hammer against a church bell. Droplets of perspiration raced on his spine, spreading iced sensations into his back muscles. The boy’s chest began compressing under a massive burning force, and he gasped for air. The numbers and letters doubled, and the chair started writhing.

Robert caught Margo’s worried face and the professor’s silhouette doubling and even tripling while walking straight into his direction before the boy hit the ground.

When he woke up in the infirmary, his body was drenched in sweat and his chest was still burning. As Robert was waking up he heard a voice, but it wasn’t Arden. Noah, his best mate, had been standing there, right by his bed.

“Are you well?” he asked while bending over and giving Robert the chance to see his own pale face reflecting in Noah’s glasses. Robert got intimidated by his pallor and grabbed his friend’s wrist.

“Help me get up,” he said. “Where is Arden?”

“You can stay and rest. I called your mom. Arden got a call, something about his grandmother being poorly,” Noah said.

“I don’t want to go home; I need fresh air. You go back to class. I will be alright.”

Robert rested on the hall bench, the coldness of the metal penetrating his jeans. The hallway was deserted, words reverberating through the classrooms’ doors.

He observed his feet crossed on the glossy tile; his dusty leather sneakers were pointing up. Somewhere in the distance, someone got out of a room. The person stumbled as if their brain struggled to order each foot to take the next step. Robert watched how they measured the way between the class and the toilet. The boy squinted his eyes. The individual had unreal long hair and voluminous clothes.

Pushed by curiosity, he stood up and followed.

Dark figures crawled out of the person’s head, rising from the murky depths of their brain, spreading death and terror. The irregular outline of the shadowy reflection possessing the girl’s body was wandering, being carried by her unknowingly. Thick steam, emanating sulphur and smoke odours, started rolling on the ground, covering the perfectly aligned tiles with a blurry cardinal tapestry. The boy staggered, each step scattering the mist under his feet, making him feel as if he were walking through the swampy waters.

An accentuated growl coming out of the toilet made the boy stop. He hid behind the door frame, peering at the ajar door, from time to time. Thick tentacles slipped through the opening and hungrily grabbed one of his legs and knocked him down. Robert’s chest started glowing and burned through the ethereal material. The boy clutched one limb and tried to sever it with his empty hands, but the creature’s tentacles, solid as steel, wreathed and squeezed his wrists, immobilising him. Robert frowned as a gross tentacle was heading for his mouth. He wanted to scream, but the suffocating air clogged his nostrils.

The boy perceived a vibration in the flooring - heavy steps were rushing to the place where he was kept captive.

With his eyes wide-opened, the boy followed the blade as it cut deep into the life-threatening tentacle. He looked in disbelief at the retreating fog and the astonishment on the girl’s face, wondering how come she ended up there.

A shadow trickled down the wall, making the boy drag on his back all the way to the icy wall.

Robert slipped his hand into the man’s hardened palm. He stared at his saviour’s barrel chest. His windblown charcoal grey hair partially covered his patched eye.

“Let’s go, boy,” the man said in an authoritative voice.

Outside, Miss Lionette was anxiously looking at her watch then at the school entrance and again at her watch. Finally, the woman exhaled the air from her lungs when she saw Dubois, followed closely by Robert.

“I see you met one of our Order members. He is Dubois,” the woman said. Robert nodded and took a seat in the back of the car. The woman touched the boy’s shoulder gently. Robert gasped.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“It stings a little,” Robert said with a clogged voice.

“Let me have a look,” Lionette demanded.

Robert slowly unbuttoned his shirt, uncovering his arm. Lionette glared at the pendant and tried to touch it. The boy pushed her hand away as he looked at the burns on his skin.

“Kugalen’s traces,” the woman murmured. “Possession demon,” she completed for Robert to hear. “We need to stop at Vineyard Road. Hurry,” she said to the driver.

Before the arrival, Robert felt his skin boiling and his stomach’s content rising to his mouth with a metal taste. The boy watched his skin turning dark grey, and a pestilential odour filled the air.