7 – The Presence.

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"Alright. You have 2 hours to find the proper definition for the terms I listed. If I don't see a single word on your written tasks, there's gonna be hell to pay for each of you."

The whole class groaned as their History professor in dull clothes and stern demeanor, Mrs. Maxine, gave them their daily activity in the college library. As expected, nearly everyone found the place as a dreary deadhole - except Bart. He always considered the library as refuge from the concerns of the outside world.

That, along with the fact that none of his bullies had any interest in entering libraries.

Promptly excusing herself for a smoke break, Mrs. Maxine went out the library door. It was the window that the class needed to 'divide and conquer'; some of the students went on to the isolated parts of the library to flirt around, others preferred to chatter aimlessly. Others hid their heads behind books just to doze off.

<Are these people even college students...?>

Bart scoffed as he scooted off to the World History section. The task they were given was to define several conflicts in history between governments and religious groups. He moved his finger along the book spines checking out titles that would yield the information he needed... but something unrelated drew his attention.

Bart pulled out a rather aged book. It didn't look like it was meant to be in the World History section given its title. He gazed at the embroidered words on the front cover.

"Lexicon of the Occult, Superstitious and Supernatural," Bart muttered the title with raised eyebrows. "That's pretty overblown."

He flipped the book open and skimmed the content. There were tons of words connected to occult, mysticism, superstitions and paranormal belief. One or two of them had accompanying images that seemed... rather questionable in his opinion.

He stopped skimming at a chart preceding the word, 'Sigil'.

<Sigil. Noun - hails from the Latin term 'sigilum', meaning seal. They are symbols made to fulfill specific magical purposes. Sigils are often created from a variety of smaller symbols or concepts that have inherent meaning in the religion or belief that uses them.>

Bart scrutinized the chart next to the word. It showed examples of existing sigils.

One of them, being the Gate Sigil.

<The Gate Sigil is the sign of the open gate. It merges the trilithon or trilith symbol - a structure made of two vertical stone supported by a third horizontally placed on top  which represents the houses of the Gods, the dead and the Sidhe (fairies), with the Triskelion that signifies the sacred triad of concepts. Below it is the source of the symbol's power:  fire and water.>

Bart closed the book and slid it back. It was an interesting read.

He never expected that two weeks later, it would be something that'd be giving him a nightmarish fit.

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Going to school with a series of pressing concerns really did weigh heavily on his psyche, Bart thought.

After affirming that what he saw on the center of his palm was a mark of a gateway like the Gate Sigil he had read before, Bart felt the strangest urge to wretch. The sick feeling that wanted to crawl out of his chest - it was a duality of both disbelief and anxiety. Part of him wished he hadn't woken up and that he was still dreaming.

But that simply wasn't the case here.

<WHAT the hell is THIS?!>

Bart couldn't stop his left hand from shaking. He couldn't even think straight - all he knew was that the experience he had during the Black Cross Festival scarred him in a very distinct way, and looking at the mark on his left palm gave him horrendous flashes of that rusted gate in his dream, the ominous chanting from the unknown, and the darkness that engulfed him..

He wasn't delusional. He didn't imagine it all in his head.

Everything he had seen and experienced was real.

Before Bart could process his situation, he heard his phone alarm ring. He had been on a standstill for nearly 20 minutes. If he didn't get ready any time soon - he would be late for school.

And he had no plans on having his uncle hear reports of him being tardy.

Bart dressed up in a hurry. He picked up his lunch allowance -which was always placed by his uncle before he would head out to work - and with all his necessities, bolted out of the house and locked the gate. His heart raced as he hurried down the street dampened by yesterday's rain.

He needed to get to school.

Would studying put his tensions at ease? Would the presence of other students bring him peace of mind? He wasn't even sure.

Assumptions he could only cling to in blind faith.

He couldn't get the burn mark out of his head. He already bandaged up his hand just to avoid staring at it, yet his discomfort remained.

In situations like these, people often had others to confide to. A place of comfort. Something to divert their attention -

... did he ever have any of those?

The gap of silence in that self-drawn question was enough an answer.

Bart turned the corner that led to the main highway. From there, it was to be a straight path to the college. Cars, bicycles and various vehicles veered past as he trudged along the road. He gripped at the straps of his bag thinking about the madness embroiling around him -

...

"!!"

Bart suddenly turned to his right. A chill raced up his spine.

He felt it. A presence. A mass misshapen that he couldn't really tell, standing as he passed by -

-was not there.

Bart's grip on his bag straps tightened. It was familiar. Something he was aware of sometime ago.

That same presence ...

It was in his room last night.

Bart stared at nothing. People moved away from him, seemingly spooked. All because of his face.

Bart's face was warped in dread. Sweatdrops of panic fell from the sides of his head. His lips fidgeted and his breathing came in ragged wisps.

First the mark.. and now this thing.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to crawl in the deepest hole he could think of and hide.

He wanted to stop being afraid. But his trembling body didn't want to.

"...is there something wrong?"

A sudden tap on the back threw Bart off. He flung his arms in immediate alarm - and held his breath.

Mallory Nelson was right beside him, dressed in the Eldridge College uniform. Holding the strap of her handbag with both hands. Smiling.

In an instant, Bart's discomfort  - and the worries of yesterday - ebbed away.

".....M... Miss Nelson?"

"You know my name."

The girl strode by Bart and gestured innocently. "I didn't expect you to be the type to walk to school. Mind if I walk with you?" She asked without drawing a pause.

That smile of hers.. it was so strange.

...he couldn't find any hint of trickery or malice. Like the girls who took advantage of him for favors used to do.

Bart lowered his head. He responded to her request with a brief nod.

"Great. Let's pick up the pace, schoolmate."

The smile Mallory Nelson gave him afterwards was impish, yet genuine. Even as she walked ahead, she never hastened her steps. It was as if she waited for him to catch up.

Bart stared at the back of the girl who hummed a whimsical tune.

A girl that used to not know who he was - yet now she walks by his side.

He can only thank her in secret.

Her presence saved him from nearly losing himself.

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NOTE: Author 'ere! Two ends come up in the horizon. A mysterious branding that doesn't bode all too well - and a maiden who just waltzes in on the young man's life. In this delicate scale-event, will good things go way up or will the bad prevail? Who knows.  xD Hope you stay reading for more!