In Between Worlds

Chapter 5........... Over Him

Three years.

One thousand and ninety-five days of hell.

That’s how long I’ve been the human host to Akuma — harbinger of death, king of the underworld, and the second heartbeat under my skin.

People say time heals all wounds. People lie.

Time doesn’t heal. Time just teaches you how to bleed quietly.

*Year One*, I cried. Every night. I’d lock myself in the bathroom, turn the tap on full blast so Mom wouldn’t hear, and sob into a towel until my ribs ached. I begged God to take it back. Begged Akuma to leave. Begged the spiral mark on my chest to stop burning every time someone near me was marked to die.

Nothing changed.

The mark still glowed. Akuma still laughed.

_“Tears are prayers to the dead, little host. Keep crying.”_

*Year Two*, I stopped. Not because it got easier. Because I learned something uglier: tears are currency to demons. The more I wept, the stronger he got. The more he whispered when I slept.

So I sealed it. All of it. I took every scream, every panic attack, every nightmare where I watched people die because I was too slow, and I shoved it into a box in my chest. Then I nailed it shut.

*This is Year Three.* And I’ve mastered the art of pretending I’m normal.

I’m thirteen now. JSS3 at Hilltop Private School, Zaria. Same green uniform. Same cracked textbooks. Same seat in the third row by the window where I can watch the Whispering Woods past the football field.

To everyone else, I’m Alex — quiet, skinny, ocean-blue eyes that people call “pretty” before they remember to be afraid of me. Kelvin’s old target. The boy who faints sometimes in class and wakes up with nosebleeds.

Except Kelvin doesn’t touch me anymore.

Not since Primary 5, when he slammed my head into a locker and my eyes flashed crimson for half a second. He saw it. Now he just calls me “ghost boy” from across the corridor and keeps his fists to himself.

Coward.

But Akuma is still here. The spiral mark still burns every time death walks into a room. My left hand still itches when someone’s about to die, begging me to save them. My right hand still goes ice-cold when Akuma wants me to kill.

The only difference now? *Control.*

And I owe that to one person.

*Jessica.*

She doesn’t know. She’ll never know. But in these three years of hell, she became my air. My medicine. The only sound loud enough to drown out a demon king.

It started in Primary 5. I realized Akuma _recoiled_ from her. Whenever she walked past, the second heartbeat in my chest would stutter. The whispers would hush. The black smoke that sometimes leaks from my skin when I’m angry would vanish like it was scared.

So I did what any desperate, demon-haunted boy would do. I got close to her.

Her best friend was Chioma — loud, brilliant, top of our class, and kind enough to talk to the weird quiet boy who stared at the woods too much. I made Chioma my best friend first. Helped her with Further Maths. Walked her to the school gate. Laughed at her jokes even when Akuma was screaming the name of the next person to die in my skull.

It worked.

Through Chioma, I got Jessica.

Three years later, we’re close. Not _boyfriend-girlfriend_ close. I’m not stupid enough to dream that big. But close enough that she saves me a seat during lunch. Close enough that she rolls her eyes and says “Alex, you’re such a dork” when I trip over nothing. Close enough that when the spiral mark burns and I feel someone’s death coming, I can look at her and _breathe_.

*She doesn’t know she’s been saving lives.*

Every time I wanted to give up, every time Akuma whispered _“Just let them die, it’s easier,”_ I’d see her laughing with Chioma and remember: _If I let him win, he promised to kill her first. Slowly._

So I learned control. Not because I’m strong. Because I’m terrified of what he’ll do to her.

I can’t command Akuma. I can’t shut him up. But I can cage him.

When the urge to kill rises — when my right hand goes ice-cold and the word “Die” sits on my tongue like poison — I think of Jessica. The way she scrunches her nose when she’s confused. The way she always smells like vanilla lotion and old library books. The way she once gave me her last bottle of Coke when I was pretending not to be dizzy from holding Akuma back.

And he _chokes_.

She taught me control without ever knowing she was my teacher.

For three years, I loved her silently.

Every stolen glance. Every time she brushed past me and the demon in me went quiet. Every night I’d whisper “thank you” to her name before sleep, like a prayer I wasn’t allowed to say out loud.

I didn’t plan to tell her. Ever.

Loving her from a distance was safer. For her.

But today… today something in me broke.

Maybe it was the way she defended me when Kelvin called me a “witch” in English class. Maybe it was the way the sun hit her hair at break and for one second, Akuma didn’t exist. Maybe I’m just tired of carrying this alone.

I decided: *I’ll tell her.*

Not directly. I’m not brave. I’m not stupid.

I’ll tell her with a story.

---

*Behind the Chemistry Lab, After School*

“Jess,” I called, my voice cracking like I was eleven again. “Can I ask you something?”

She turned, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyebrow raised. Her hair was in two loose braids today. “If it’s about that Simultaneous Equations homework, Alex, I swear I will—”

“No. Not homework.” My palms were sweating. Akuma was quiet. Too quiet. Like he was listening. Like he was _waiting_. “It’s… a story.”

She sighed but smiled. That small, crooked smile that made the spiral mark go warm instead of burning. “You and your stories. Fine. Shoot.”

I swallowed. The air smelled like rain and mango leaves. A JSS1 kid ran past screaming about football.

“So there’s this guy,” I started, not looking at her. I stared at the c***k in the pavement instead, where ants were carrying a dead beetle. _Death everywhere._ “And he likes his female friend. A lot. Like, he’s liked her for years. She’s the reason he’s still… sane. Still _human_.”

Jessica was quiet. Listening. The way she always does when she thinks it matters.

“But he’s scared,” I went on. My heart was a war drum. “Because he doesn’t know if she feels the same. And if he tells her, maybe she’ll hate him. Maybe she’ll stop being his friend. Maybe she’ll look at him like he’s a monster.”

The word _monster_ slipped out before I could catch it.

Jessica frowned a little. “Alex…”

“So he wants to know,” I rushed, my voice barely a whisper now. The spiral mark was hot. “If you were the girl. And the guy told you he liked you. What would you do?”

I added quickly, “It’s hypothetical. Just… just assume. Don’t think too much about it.”

Silence.

The wind moved through the mango tree above us. A bird called once, sharp and lonely.

I didn’t breathe.

Then Jessica tilted her head. And she said it. Clear. Final. Like she was answering a question on an exam she’d studied for.

“If you told me you liked me, Alex?” She adjusted her backpack strap. Shrugged. “I’d stop being friends with you. Completely. I’d ignore you.”

The world went silent.

Not metaphorically. _Literally._

For one second, I couldn’t hear the birds. Or the football boys. Or my own heartbeat.

Then I heard _him_.

Akuma didn’t laugh. He didn’t roar. He _purred_. Like a cat that just cornered a mouse.

_“Did you hear that, little host? She would discard you. She would leave you. Just like I said. Humans are faithless. Love makes you weak. She makes you weak.”_

My chest caved in.

I felt the first tear before I could stop it. Hot. Traitorous. It slipped down my cheek and I turned my back so fast I almost tripped over my own feet.

“Alex?” Jessica’s voice was confused now. Softer. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I wiped my face with my sleeve. Hard. Violent. When I turned back, the tear was gone. Like it was never there. Like _I_ was never there.

“Nothing,” I said. My voice was empty. Scraped out. “It was just a story. Hypothetical. Doesn’t matter. I, uh… I have to go.”

I could feel him. Akuma. Sprawled across my ribs, basking. _Proud._

_“You see? You see? She would throw you away. Give her to me, and I’ll make you forget her. I’ll make you a god. No more pain. No more weakness.”_

I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t.

Because deep down, under the humiliation and the ache and the shame, one stupid, stubborn truth remained:

I still loved her.

Her saying no didn’t switch it off. It didn’t kill it. It just shoved it into a darker, quieter room in my chest and locked the door.

_I’ll love her from a distance,_ I thought. _Even if it kills me. Especially if it kills me._

---

*Fourth Period: Mathematics*

Mr. Bello was writing equations on the board. Chioma kept passing me notes: _U okay? U look sick._

Jessica didn’t look at me once.

She was laughing at something Evelyn said, twirling her pen, completely unaware that she’d just carved my heart out with a shrug.

I put my head on my desk.

And I cried.

Not sobbing. Not shaking. Just silent tears that soaked into the sleeve of my uniform while I pretended to copy notes I couldn’t see.

Akuma was laughing now.

_“This is why you don’t love, little host. This is why you kill. Kill her, and the pain stops.”_

“Shut up,” I mouthed against my desk.

_“Make me.”_

The bell couldn’t ring fast enough.

---

*Flashback: JSS1, Second Term*

The first time I almost killed someone was because of Kelvin.

He’d cornered me behind the art block. Four of his friends. They were taking turns shoving me, calling me “ghost boy,” “witch,” “demon spawn.” I don’t know how they knew. Maybe I looked at them wrong.

Kelvin grabbed my shirt. “You think you’re special, huh? Staring at people with those freak eyes—”

My right hand went cold.

Ice-cold.

The word rose in my throat. _Die._

One word. That’s all it would take. Akuma was already reaching through me, black smoke curling from my fingertips. I could see it. _Kelvin’s death_. A snapped neck. Blood on the concrete.

_“Say it,”_ Akuma purred. _“He deserves it. They all do.”_

And I almost did. God help me, I almost did.

Then I heard her.

“HEY! Leave him alone!”

Jessica. She wasn’t even my friend yet. She was just Chioma’s friend, walking past with a stack of textbooks. But she saw. And she didn’t walk away.

She stormed over, textbooks hugged to her chest like a shield. “Five of you against one? You’re all cowards!”

Kelvin blinked. “Mind your business, Jessica—”

“I WILL NOT!” She stepped between us. Between me and Kelvin. _Between me and murder._

And Akuma _screamed_.

Not out loud. In my head. A sound like nails on bone. My right hand went from ice to fire. The black smoke vanished. The word _die_ turned to ash on my tongue.

Kelvin looked at me. At my eyes. They must have been normal again, because he just scoffed. “Whatever. He’s not worth it.” And they left.

Jessica turned to me. “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

I couldn’t speak. I was too busy not killing someone. Too busy realizing: _She did that. She stopped him. Without even knowing._

That was the day I understood.

*Jessica was my leash. My cage. My medicine.*

And I’ve been holding on to her ever since.

---

*Present: After School, Whispering Woods*

I didn’t go home.

I couldn’t. Mom would see my eyes. She’d know I was “sick” again. She’d pray, and Akuma would laugh, and I’d have to pretend I didn’t hear him.

So I went to the woods.

The Whispering Woods sat at the edge of our estate like a bruise. Tall iroko trees. Air that smelled like wet earth and something older. Something _hungry_.

This is where it started. My tenth birthday. Where Akuma first clawed his way into me.

I dropped my backpack and screamed.

Not a cute, movie scream. A real one. Raw. Broken. The kind that tears your throat and doesn’t care who hears.

“WHY?” I yelled at the trees. At the sky. At him. “WHY ME? WHAT DID I DO?”

The spiral mark exploded with heat.

_“You were chosen,”_ Akuma said, his voice everywhere and nowhere. _“You were born on the night the veil thinned. You were empty enough to fill.”_

“SHUT UP!” I slammed my fist into a tree. Bark bit into my knuckles. Blood welled up. I didn’t heal it. I wanted to feel it. “She doesn’t want me! She never will! Are you happy now?”

Akuma’s laugh was a landslide.

_“Ecstatic. Now you see. Love is a lie. Devotion is a chain. Break it, Alex. Break her, and you’re free.”_

“Never.” The word was a sob. “I’ll never hurt her.”

_“You won’t have to,”_ he whispered. _“I will. When you finally give up, I’ll take your body and paint the school with her blood. And you’ll watch. From inside.”_

I slid down the tree, knees to my chest. “I hate you.”

_“I know,”_ he said softly. Almost… fondly. _“That’s why we work.”_

The sun was setting. The woods were getting darker. I should’ve been scared. I wasn’t. What could the woods do to me that Akuma hadn’t already done?

Then I heard it.

A whimper.

I froze. The spiral mark went from burning to _freezing_. Death. Nearby.

I followed the sound, pushing through thorny bushes until I saw it — a stray dog. Leg mangled, probably hit by a car. It was trying to crawl, eyes wild with pain.

My left hand itched. _Save it._

No. No, no, no. Saving meant dying. Saving meant pain. Saving meant—

_“Do it,”_ Akuma cooed. _“Feel it. Remember what you are.”_

I looked around. No one. Just me and the dying dog and the demon in my head.

I knelt. Put my left hand on its broken body.

_“Live.”_

The word wasn’t loud. It was a breath. A surrender.

The dog gasped. The mangled leg _knit_. Bones popped. Fur smoothed. In three seconds, it was whole. It scrambled up, barked once, and ran into the trees like nothing happened.

And I died.

Not really. But it felt like it.

The car hit _me_. I felt my leg shatter. Ribs c***k. The world went white with agony. I collapsed, choking on phantom blood, convulsing as every nerve lit up with a death that wasn’t mine but was _mine now_.

_“Good boy,”_ Akuma sighed. _“So noble. So stupid.”_

I lay there for ten minutes. Maybe twenty. Just breathing through the aftershocks, waiting for my body to remember it was alive.

Then I heard footsteps.

“Alex? Oh my God, Alex!”

Jessica.

She must have followed me. Or maybe she always followed the broken boys.

She dropped to her knees beside me. “You’re bleeding! What happened? Did you fall?”

My sleeve was torn. My knuckles were bloody from the tree. I was pale, shaking, covered in dirt. I looked like death.

Because I was.

“’m fine,” I slurred. The pain was fading. It always did. But the exhaustion didn’t. “Just… tripped.”

She didn’t believe me. But she didn’t push. She just took off her cardigan and pressed it to my bleeding hand.

Her touch was ice.

Akuma _shrieked_ and went silent.

For the first time all day, my chest was quiet.

She didn’t know she’d just exorcised a king. She just thought she was helping a classmate.

“Why are you always alone, Alex?” she whispered.

I looked at her. Really looked. At the concern in her eyes. The way her braids had come loose. The way she was here, when she said she’d ignore me if I liked her.

_She doesn’t know,_ I thought. _She doesn’t know I’d die for her. That I just did._

“I’m not alone,” I said before I could stop myself. “I have you.”

She blinked. Then smiled, soft and sad. “You’re weird. Come on. Let’s get you home before it gets dark.”

She helped me up. Her hand in mine.

And Akuma said nothing.

Because for now, I’d won.

But the war was far from over.