Last lord of the 3rd eye

[The First Day of School]

Jilpa sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the clock. The glowing digits read 7:03 AM, and the first bell was at 8:00. His school uniform hung neatly on the chair by his desk, untouched.

He ran a hand through his hair, his stomach churning. The thought of stepping back into school, where he had to face not just the exams but also Rivaan and the teachers, made his chest tighten.

Jilpa (thinking): What's the point? I'm barely keeping it together. What if they show up again... like they did all summer?

His eyes flicked toward the window, half-expecting to see one of the demons lingering in the shadows outside. For once, the view was clear, but it didn't calm his nerves.

[7:20 AM]

The sound of his mom bustling in the kitchen drifted upstairs.

Mom (calling out): Jilpa! Are you up? Breakfast is ready!

Jilpa: Yeah... coming.

But he didn't move. Instead, he picked up his phone and scrolled through random memes, trying to distract himself. His heart wasn't in it. Every few seconds, his thoughts wandered back to the mirror, the whispers, the clawed hand that had gripped his shoulder.

Jilpa (thinking): What if it happens again... in front of everyone?

[7:35 AM]

The minutes ticked by, and the weight of the decision loomed larger. He threw his phone onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Jilpa (thinking): If I don't go, Mom's going to ask questions. Rivaan's going to blow up my phone. But if I do go...

He shuddered, imagining the demons appearing in the middle of class, their twisted faces mocking him.

[7:45 AM]

The door creaked open slightly, and his mom poked her head in.

Mom: Jilpa, what are you doing? You're going to be late!

Jilpa (hesitant): I'm... not feeling great, Mom. Maybe I should skip today.

She frowned, stepping into the room and placing a hand on his forehead.

Mom: You don't have a fever. Is something else wrong?

Jilpa avoided her gaze, shrugging.

Jilpa: Just... tired, I guess.

Mom (sternly): Tired or not, you can't miss the first day of school. You're going. Get ready, or I'll drag you out of bed myself.

She left the room, muttering something about teenagers under her breath.

[7:50 AM]

Jilpa sat frozen. His mom's insistence didn't make the decision any easier. He stared at his uniform, then at his reflection in the mirror.

For a split second, his reflection didn't match his movements.

It tilted its head, smirking.

Reflection (whispering): Stay home. You're safer here.

Jilpa stumbled back, knocking over a stack of books. When he looked again, his reflection was normal, wide-eyed and panicked.

He clutched his chest, his breathing shallow.

Jilpa (thinking): What do I do?

The clock ticked to 7:55 AM. Time was running out.

The clock struck 7:58 AM, and Jilpa jumped to his feet, grabbing his uniform.

Jilpa (thinking): Whatever happens, I can't let them control me. I need to face this.

He rushed out the door, ignoring the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine. The walk to school was uneventful, but his paranoia made every sound seem sinister. The chirping of birds felt mocking, the breeze brushing against his neck like unseen fingers.

When he finally arrived, Rivaan was waiting by the gate.

Rivaan: Bro, you're late! I thought you were going to bail on me.

Jilpa (forcing a grin): Almost did.

As they walked inside, Jilpa's stomach churned. The hallways were filled with chatter and laughter, but to him, every shadow seemed to move unnaturally.

The day passed in a blur of introductions and lectures, but Jilpa couldn't focus. Every time he blinked, he saw glimpses of them—the demons—lurking in the corners of the classroom, their twisted smiles taunting him.

By lunch, his nerves were shot.

Rivaan (noticing): Dude, are you okay? You're pale as hell.

Jilpa: I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well.

But he wasn't fine. The visions were becoming more frequent, lasting longer. And as the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Jilpa knew one thing for certain.

The demons weren't going to stop.

[Later That Same Day]

The final bell rang, and Jilpa packed his things, his mind still swirling with the terrifying visions he'd seen all day. The demons were relentless, clinging to his classmates like parasites, their twisted forms whispering into their hosts' ears.

He followed Rivaan out of the classroom, trying to act normal, but his eyes darted nervously between the spirits.

Jilpa (thinking): Why can't anyone else see them?

As they walked down the hallway, he finally worked up the courage to say something.

Jilpa (whispering): Rivaan... do you ever feel like... someone's watching you?

Rivaan gave him a weird look.

Rivaan: Uh, no? You're acting mad sketchy, bro. What's up?

Before Jilpa could respond, the spirit on Rivaan's back turned its head and locked eyes with him.

Spirit (hissing): You see us... don't you?

Jilpa froze mid-step, his blood running cold. The spirit grinned, its teeth jagged and glinting. It unlatched one clawed hand from Rivaan's shoulder and pointed directly at Jilpa.

Spirit: You can hear us too.

Jilpa stumbled back, his bag slipping from his shoulder.

Jilpa (thinking): They know I can see them.

The hallway grew unnervingly silent. The other spirits began to notice Jilpa, their hollow eyes shifting toward him. Whispers filled the air, overlapping into a cacophony of sinister voices.

One by one, the spirits detached from their hosts, slithering toward him.

Spirit (mocking): The mortal boy who sees the unseen... how curious.

Jilpa's breathing quickened as he backed into a locker.

Jilpa (stammering): What... what do you want from me?

One spirit, its body a mass of tangled shadows, leaned in close, its voice low and guttural.

Spirit: We want them. But you... you're different. You can resist us. Why?

Jilpa clenched his fists, fear coursing through him.

Jilpa: Get away from me!

To his shock, the spirits recoiled slightly, as if his voice carried some unknown force. Their grins faltered, but they didn't leave.

Another Spirit: Interesting... your soul shines brighter than theirs. Perhaps... perhaps you're more than prey.

Jilpa swallowed hard, his mind racing.

Jilpa (thinking): They're trying to possess everyone else. But they're scared of me... why?

The whispers grew louder, more chaotic. The spirits circled him, but none dared get too close. He grabbed his bag off the floor and bolted for the exit, ignoring Rivaan's confused shouts behind him.

Outside, he leaned against the wall, gasping for air. The spirits hadn't followed, but their voices still echoed in his mind.

Jilpa (thinking): They know I can see them. And somehow... they're afraid of me.

He clenched his fists, determination replacing his fear.

Jilpa (thinking): If I can talk to them... maybe I can stop them. But how?

[The Next Day]

Jilpa sat alone in the classroom, waiting for the teacher to arrive. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, but it did little to ease the tension knotting his stomach.

He couldn't stop thinking about the spirits from the day before. He'd spent the night tossing and turning, questions swirling in his mind.

Jilpa (thinking): Why can I see them? Why are they scared of me?

As the classroom began to fill, his attention was drawn to one of the spirits clinging to a boy in the front row. This one wasn't as grotesque as the others—it looked more like a shadow with faint, glowing red eyes.

Jilpa focused on it, his curiosity outweighing his fear.

Jilpa (thinking): Maybe I can talk to it...

[During Recess]

When the bell rang for recess, Jilpa stayed behind, waiting for the classroom to empty. The boy with the spirit left with his friends, but the shadow remained behind, lingering near Jilpa.

Taking a deep breath, Jilpa whispered.

Jilpa: You... can hear me, right?

The spirit froze, its glowing eyes narrowing as it turned toward him.

Spirit (hissing): You're the one who sees... What do you want, mortal?

Jilpa flinched but held his ground.

Jilpa: I want answers. Why can I see you? And why are you afraid of me?

The spirit hovered closer, studying him.

Spirit: You've awakened the Third Eye, mortal. You see what others cannot—spirits, demons, and all that hides in the shadows.

Jilpa frowned, the words sinking in.

Jilpa: Third Eye? What does that even mean?

Spirit: It means you've been marked by fate. A rare gift... or curse. You're not like the others. And that makes you dangerous.

Jilpa: Dangerous? To you?

The spirit recoiled slightly, its shadowy form flickering.

Spirit: You wield the Slave Chain.

Jilpa blinked, confused.

Jilpa: Slave Chain?

Spirit (grinning): A power that binds spirits and lesser demons to your will. With it, you can control us... make us obey. But it won't work on higher beings—angels, the First Hell Demons, or the Seven Deadly Sins. They're far beyond your reach.

Jilpa's heart raced. The idea of controlling spirits was both terrifying and thrilling.

Jilpa: So, I can make you do whatever I want?

The spirit's grin faltered.

Spirit: If you master the Slave Chain, yes. But beware—power like that attracts attention. The higher demons will come for you, and they won't be so easily controlled.

[Jilpa's First Test]

Jilpa leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning. The Slave Chain... the Third Eye... it was too much to process. But before he could ask more questions, the classroom door creaked open, and the boy with the spirit returned.

The shadow snapped back to its host, disappearing from view.

Jilpa (thinking): If I really have this power... I need to figure out how to use it. And fast

[The Spirits' Crib]

In the dim, otherworldly void where the spirits gathered, the air buzzed with tension. This realm was a place unseen by mortal eyes, a warped and shadowy mirror of the physical world. The spirits floated restlessly, their grotesque forms flickering as they whispered amongst themselves.

Spirit 1 (the shadowy one Jilpa spoke to): He knows. The kid has awakened the Third Eye.

A larger, more grotesque spirit with multiple limbs slammed its claws against the ground, sending ripples through the void.

Spirit 2: Then he is a threat. The Slave Chain can end us. He must not live long enough to master it.

The whispers grew louder, overlapping into a cacophony of hisses and guttural growls.

Spirit 3: He's inexperienced, untrained. He doesn't even know how to summon the chain properly.

Spirit 4: But he will learn. And when he does, we'll be the first he binds.

The shadowy spirit hovered closer to the group, its eyes narrowing.

Spirit 1: We cannot let that happen. If he gains control, it's not just us he'll dominate. The lesser demons, the others—we'll all be at his mercy.

[The Plot Begins]

A Genius spirit with glowing green eyes walked through the group, its voice cold and calculating.

Genius Spirit: We need to act before the boy realizes his full potential. A direct attack will fail; he's already shown he can repel us. But there are other ways.

Spirit 2: Such as?

The Genius spirit's grin widened.

Genius Spirit: We use his fear. His uncertainty. We isolate him, drive him mad. The more he doubts himself, the weaker he becomes.

The shadowy spirit nodded, its form twisting as it spoke.

Spirit 1: Yes... make him question what he sees. Make him doubt his reality. The Third Eye is a double-edged sword. If he cannot control it, it will consume him.

Spirit 3: And if that doesn't work?

The Genius spirit spoke, its voice dripping with malice.

Genius Spirit: Then we lure the higher demons to him. They'll take care of him for us. The Six would love to crush a potential threat before it grows.

The spirits began to form a plan, their whispers weaving a web of deceit and manipulation.

Spirit 4: We'll haunt his dreams, twist his thoughts. Make him believe his power is a curse.

Spirit 2: And we'll turn his friends against him. The humans around him—if they fear him, he'll have no one left to trust.

The shadowy spirit leaned forward, its glowing eyes narrowing.

Spirit 1: Soon, he'll beg to rid himself of the Third Eye. And when he does... we'll strike.

The void grew darker as the spirits solidified their pact, their forms blending into the shadows.

Genius Spirit (grinning): The boy doesn't realize it yet, but he's already losing. Let's make sure he never has the chance to fight back.

[Later that same day]

Genius Spirit: Something has changed. I feel their presence... faint, but unmistakable.

The shadowy spirit tilted its head, its form flickering with unease.

Spirit 1: What are you saying?

Genius Spirit: The Six have already begun.

A collective hiss swept through the void, some spirits retreating into the darkness.

Spirit 2: Impossible! They would not move for a mere mortal.

The Genius spirit's grin widened, but its tone was grim.

Genius Spirit: Not just any mortal. The boy is different. If he truly masters the Slave Chain, even the Seven would feel its reach. That's reason enough for them to act.

The shadowy spirit's form twisted, its voice low and wary.

Spirit 1: Then why haven't we felt them directly?

The genius spirit flicked its glasses, its movements sharp and deliberate.

Genius Spirit: Because they work subtly, through influence, not confrontation. Six of the Seven have already begun their work.

[The Influence of the Six]

The spirits exchanged uneasy glances as the serpentine one continued.

Genius Spirit: The boy is already trapped in their web. Lust tempts him with forbidden desires. Gluttony whispers indulgence into his thoughts. Greed, Sloth, Wrath, and Envy... they all tug at his soul, each seed planted to corrupt and weaken him.

Spirit 3 (growling): And Pride?

The Genius spirit's grin faltered for a brief moment before it spoke carefully.

Genius Spirit: Pride remains silent. Bound, perhaps, or watching from afar. But it matters not. Six are enough to ensnare the boy.

The shadowy spirit flickered, its form pulsing with agitation.

Spirit 1: If the Six are already at work, then why should we concern ourselves further? He will fall to them, and we can remain in the shadows.

Spirit 2: Yes, let them take the risk. The boy is their problem now.

The Genius spirit's eyes narrowed, its voice sharp.

Genius Spirit: Fools! The Six care not for us. If the boy falls under their control, do you think they'll spare us? No, we must still act—but carefully.

[A Change in Strategy]

The spirits fell silent, their grotesque forms shifting uneasily in the dark.

Spirit 4 (hesitant): Then what do we do? If the Six are already influencing him, do we oppose them?

The Genius spirit whispered, its voice laced with caution.

Genius Spirit: No. To oppose the Six directly would be our undoing. But we can ensure the boy never reaches his potential. Disrupt him, isolate him, drive him deeper into despair. Let the Six take him... but ensure he remains too broken to be of use to anyone.

The shadowy spirit nodded slowly, its form solidifying with determination.

Spirit 1: Yes... weaken him further. Let the Seven's work be incomplete. If he cannot master the Slave Chain, he'll be no threat to us—or anyone else.

The Genius spirit curled into itself, its voice dropping to a sinister whisper.

Genius Spirit: Let the boy be their pawn. In the end, the Six may have him... but we'll ensure he is worthless when they do.

The void echoed with dark laughter as the spirits dispersed, their new plan taking shape.