Isaac sat on his bed in his room, nervously tossing a tennis ball in his hand. It bounced off the wall in a steady rhythm, only intensifying the tension in the air. Cornelius leaned against the desk, staring at his phone screen, but it didn’t look like he was actually reading anything. The atmosphere was heavy.

They both knew what they had to talk about, but neither wanted to start.

"Lucy has changed," Isaac finally said, breaking the silence.

Cornelius didn’t look up from his phone.

"That was to be expected," he replied calmly. "After everything she’s been through, she couldn’t stay the same."

Isaac squeezed the ball harder until his fingers turned white.

"But she… she doesn’t look broken. When she speaks, her voice sounds too calm. Like none of this matters to her… or like she just doesn’t want to feel it."

Cornelius sighed, putting his phone in his pocket.

"It’s a natural defense mechanism. The human mind can’t handle that much pain, so it ignores it. If she let herself feel everything that happened, she might go insane."

Isaac looked at him as if trying to understand, but something didn’t sit right.

"So it’s just… a defense mechanism?"

Cornelius nodded.

"And maybe something more. She remembered her past. Maybe now she’s someone completely different."

Isaac opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, their school communicators buzzed.

"Urgent meeting in the common room. Immediate attendance required."

They exchanged surprised looks.

"But we were supposed to have time off until the others got back from camp," Isaac pointed out.

"Well, something must have changed," Cornelius said, standing up.

A few minutes later, they were already on their way to the common room. Shortly after, Lucy joined them, returning from a session with her psychologist.

They entered the room and immediately noticed something strange.

The headmaster, Philip, was walking through the room… but he wasn’t himself. He was hunched over, slouching, and beside him, a petite woman was dragging him by the ear like an angry mother.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/yYdF3R0v/474467437-482376434682400-1040451026991619258-n.jpg]

"You are impossible!" she said in an irritated tone. "Did you think you could just DISAPPEAR for the whole summer, leave me alone with this mess, and think you’d REALLY get away with it?!"

Philip let out a quiet, whimpering sound. His eyes were red and full of tears, and most strangely—they weren’t glowing yellow as usual. They were blue.

Isaac, never one to hold his tongue, spoke first.

"Headmaster, what’s going on here?"

Before Philip could respond, the woman spoke up.

"I’m Monica Paderewska, the headmaster’s secretary," she said coolly, letting go of Philip’s ear. "I just got back from my vacation because this so-called ‘genius’ disappeared without a word all summer, leaving everything on my shoulders. And when he finally decided to return, I was so exhausted that I had to take time off."

Isaac raised an eyebrow.

"But… why are his eyes blue? And was he crying? Did you beat him up?" he asked, eyeing Monica suspiciously.

Philip sniffled and spoke softly, his voice sounding completely different than usual—more uncertain, almost childlike.

"Funny Philip probably wouldn’t have cried… But I can’t handle it when someone yells at me."

Isaac frowned.

"What? Funny Philip? What are you even talking about?"

Monica sighed, as if the entire situation was an enormous burden, and looked at them seriously.

"The headmaster has three personalities, each tied to a different soul color."

Cornelius, who had been silent until now, suddenly stood up.

"So the rumors were true? That the headmaster has three souls?"

"You could say that," Monica replied, adjusting her glasses. "But he can’t use them all at once. His personalities appear in specific situations. The one you’re seeing now is Little Philip. There’s also Funny Philip, with a yellow soul, and Evil Philip, who has a red soul."

"Wait, wait…" Isaac raised his hands. "So right now we’re dealing with ‘Little Philip’? What happens when the ‘Evil’ one shows up?"

"You don’t want to know," Monica said coldly.

Isaac looked completely bewildered, while Lucy watched everything with a slight smile, as if trying not to show her surprise.

"This information is classified," Paderewska added, giving them a stern look. "You are not to tell anyone about it."

"Then why did you tell us?" Cornelius asked, crossing his arms.

"As members of the special class, you have the right to know."

The conversation soon shifted to another topic.

"We were supposed to give you an assignment, but as you can see, he’s in no state to do it, so I’ll have to take over."

"What assignment?" Lucy asked, tilting her head.

"The school received a letter inviting you to Dziady (a traditional Slavic ritual honoring ancestors), which will take place on October 31st at Wawel Castle," Monica announced.

"Dziady?" Lucy asked with interest.

Monica briefly explained that it was a Slavic ritual connected to communicating with the spirits of ancestors. She added that their upcoming task was special, but before they went, they had the opportunity to see an exorcist in action—Father Matthew.

"I know what state you’re in, Lucy," Monica said, looking at the girl. "If you want, you can sit this one out."

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Philip suddenly approached Lucy and hugged her, sobbing.

"You’ve been through so much… it’s not fair," he said, his voice trembling.

Unfazed, Lucy gently pushed him away.

"I’ve already had a few sessions with my psychologist. He said I can continue participating in all practical activities."

Monica nodded.

"Alright. You’ll go with them, but under one condition—your psychologist, Simon, will be your guardian."

A while later, the three students returned to their rooms to pack, and soon a modern van arrived to pick them up.

After a few hours, they arrived at their destination, a small village near Krakow. A tall, slender man with white hair, a monocle over his right eye, and dark circles under his eyes greeted them.

"Father Matthew," he introduced himself coolly. "Nice to see you."

He led them to the parish house.

When they crossed the threshold, the interior of the house turned out to be as modest as its exterior. The walls were decorated only with a few crosses and worn-out paintings of saints.

"The students will sleep in the attic," Matthew announced, leading them up the creaky stairs.

The attic room was cramped, with three sleeping bags spread on the floor. The windows were small, and the only light came from a lamp on a wooden table.

"The conditions are modest but sufficient for a few days," the priest added with a smile.

"What about you?" Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I’ll be sleeping in my room." Matthew smiled slightly.

As they went downstairs, Simon was assigned a room on the ground floor. It was much more comfortable—with a proper bed, clean bedding, and a pitcher of warm water. When Isaac saw this, he couldn’t hold back a comment.

"This is unfair. Why do we have to sleep in the attic, and he gets this?"

Simon just smiled indulgently.

"It’s for your own good," he replied calmly. "And I’ll be staying here anyway. Father Matthew asked me not to interfere with the practices."

That didn’t satisfy Isaac, but Cornelius placed a hand on his shoulder, suggesting he let it go.

"The practices don’t start until evening," the priest said, closing the door. "For now, get some rest."

When they were alone, Cornelius sat on his sleeping bag and began speaking.

"I looked into what you said about the courier with the KOI logo," he said to Lucy.

"And?" she asked, her voice carrying a distinct sense of distance.

"It wasn’t easy to find," Cornelius admitted. "But it looks like the company really exists. It’s a private enterprise whose services are so expensive that only the wealthiest can afford them. Their couriers are awakened individuals who can deliver packages anywhere in the world in record time. Even to Everest."

"So it wasn’t just my imagination?" Lucy asked, her smile more of a shadow of an expression than a real one.

"No. And that worries me," said Cornelius in a serious tone. "People like that know too much. And worst of all, it looks like they might be smuggling people or illegal packages. Officially, that company doesn’t even exist."

"So it really could have been a player," Lucy noted, her voice sounding cold.

"We don’t know that," Cornelius replied. "But one thing is certain: we need to be careful and trust no one."

Isaac shrugged. "As if we ever trusted anyone before."

The conversation died down, and each of them sank into their own thoughts.

After dark, Matthew called them in front of the parish house. He had changed out of his cassock into something more comfortable, which surprised the students. His stern silhouette stood against the fading light of the day. He gave the students a piercing look that spoke more than words ever could. In his eyes lay experiences and secrets that suggested he had seen far too much in his lifetime.

"Father… is that allowed?" one of them asked, pointing at his clothes.

Matthew shrugged. "Am I supposed to play the saint when I have work to do?" he muttered. "Besides, it's easier to move in these."

"We’re leaving," he gestured toward a narrow forest path.

Simon, who had been standing aside until now, nodded to them in farewell. "Be careful," he said calmly before closing the door behind him.

The forest was dense, and the air was damp. Every step echoed softly among the whispers of leaves, as if something was watching them. An owl hooted in the distance, and a chilly gust of wind sent shivers down Isaac’s spine. The atmosphere grew more and more tense, and the shadows cast by the trees seemed to take on a life of their own.

"Can you finally tell us where we’re actually going?" Cornelius asked, breaking the silence.

Matthew turned his head, looking at him from under furrowed brows. "Where we all end up someday."

At those words, the worst scenarios began to form in Isaac’s mind.

"What if he wants to kill us and bury us in this forest?" he whispered to Cornelius.

"Stop talking nonsense," Cornelius growled.

"Oh no, Isaac," Lucy said in a theatrical whisper. "Do you feel that chill? The spirits have come for you…"

Isaac flinched, and Lucy burst into laughter.

When they arrived at their destination, they found themselves standing before a cemetery. The place was eerie, surrounded by a tall wall with a solid iron gate.

Matthew began explaining their task. "Your job is to make sure nothing gets out of here."

"What do you mean, nothing gets out?!" Isaac asked, terrified.

Cornelius waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, come on, ghosts don’t exist."

Matthew gave him a cold smile. "Tell that to those trying to claw their way out from under the ground."

At that moment, the gate creaked, and from within the cemetery emerged a young woman in a habit. She had large, bright eyes and a warm smile that didn’t match the eerie atmosphere of the place.

"Ah, you’re finally here!" she said cheerfully.

"Sister Anastasia," Matthew introduced her. "She helps me with my duties."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Duties? Are we talking about cleaning graves or exorcisms?"

The nun chuckled softly. "Both."

Father Matthew gestured toward the gravestones. "This cemetery is home to people who never made peace with their deaths. Their souls… didn’t fully depart. Parts of their consciousness still linger in these bodies."

Isaac swallowed hard. "This is a joke, right?" He let out a nervous laugh, but when he saw Matthew’s serious expression, his laughter died in his throat. "Okay… so this is actually happening… undead people just strolling around like it’s nothing."

"You’re almost right, kid," Matthew said. "But we keep most of them in check with holy nails. Each corpse has them embedded in their body, and the seals block any lingering spiritual energy."

"But… if the problem is solved, why are we here?" Cornelius asked.

"Because at this time of year, as All Souls' Day approaches, people start remembering them," Matthew explained. "That strengthens their energy. Sometimes the seals aren’t enough."

Lucy smirked. "So if some dead guy decides to go for a walk, we’re supposed to put him back to sleep?"

"Not you," Matthew corrected. "You just need to inform me or Anastasia. We’ll handle the rest."

Isaac let out a quiet whimper of fear.

"Great," Cornelius muttered sarcastically. "Father, couldn’t we have gotten a normal job?"

"Welcome to the world of exorcists," Sister Anastasia said with a smile.

Matthew divided them into two groups. "I’ll go with Cornelius to the west side. Isaac, Lucy—you’ll go east with Anastasia."

"Just wonderful," Isaac groaned.

They headed in their respective directions.

Matthew walked slowly, muttering curses under his breath, until he finally stopped and pulled out a cigarette.

Cornelius raised an eyebrow. "Father, you swear and smoke? That doesn’t seem very fitting for a priest."

Matthew lit the cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "If these were my only sins, maybe there’d still be a place for me in heaven."

Cornelius glanced at him sideways. "What are you even talking about?"

Matthew sat down on a tombstone and gazed up at the dark sky. "I didn’t use to believe in God," he said quietly. "But I killed in his name."

image [https://i.postimg.cc/x1GT0xq7/474386227-587737260909217-6340019210174726749-n.jpg]

Cornelius furrowed his brows. "That sounds like something a priest shouldn’t say."

Matthew squinted at him. "I don’t care what I should say. I care about the truth."

Cornelius crossed his arms. "Well, I don’t believe in ghosts or God. Everything can be explained by science."

Matthew chuckled dryly. "Trust me, kid… if you saw what I have, you’d stop thinking that way."

In the distance, between the graves, something moved.

A man stood in the shadows, licking his lips. He was unnaturally swollen, his skin stretched tight as if it might burst at any moment. His eyes, embedded in pulsating blisters, rolled in different directions, as if analyzing the space from multiple angles at once. He had no nose, just two elongated slits, like a lizard.

He watched Cornelius and Matthew, tilting his head like a curious predator.

His bloated lips stretched into a disturbing grin.

"Cornelius looks delicious," he murmured to himself, licking his lips. "I’d love to have a bite…"

The darkness around him seemed to thicken.

And then he vanished.