Shadowseal: The Price Of Sin

CHAPTER 9

Morning sunlight slipped through the worn-out curtains, quietly spilling into the room like a silent invitation. For a brief moment, everything felt new.

Mikey opened his eyes.

The darkness was still there of course it was.

The demon still lived inside him.

But today felt… different.

The weight on his chest hadn't vanished, but it had shifted.

Fear hadn't left, but it had stepped aside just enough for something else to breathe.

He got up. Moved to the bathroom without a word.

He didn't look in the mirror.

Just washed his face, brushed his teeth.

The mask wasn't visible, but he knew it was still there lurking under his skin like a tumor carved into bone.

But today… he believed he could control it.

At least, for a while.

It was the weekend.

The world outside was silent.

And in that silence… there was space. A space to move. To feel. To fight.

He slipped on a plain T-shirt and sweatpants. Walked into the garage behind the house bare concrete, cold floor, no distractions. He dropped to his knees.

Hands against the ground.

And began.

One push-up. Then another.

Then twenty.

Then fifty.

Each motion lit a fire in his body, shaking loose the shadows tangled in his nerves.

With every breath, something shifted.

Something old… became something his.

Power wasn't building it was waking up.

He grabbed the pull-up bar.

His body exploded upward, not straining launching.

He wasn't just working out anymore.

He was discovering.

"I'm unstoppable."

Sweat slid from his brow to his jaw. He paused.

Looked down at himself.

At his arms, his shoulders, his chest.

When had he become this strong?

He didn't remember growing into it.

But now… he felt it. It was real. It was there.

"The demon is chained," he muttered. "For now, I control the mask.

Let's just hope I don't pass out again… or spiral."

Then he ran.

Out the back, through the woods behind the house.

Sunlight filtered between branches. Birds chirped softly in the distance.

But Mikey's steps beat to a different rhythm.

He was no longer breathing like a boy.

He was hunting.

He ran.

But this wasn't running.

This was flight.

Three full hours.

Nonstop.

Full-speed sprint.

He moved faster than any human should.

Trees blurred past him.

Puddles scattered underfoot.

Wind didn't chase him anymore it parted for him.

He was velocity.

He was momentum.

He was the shadow that could no longer be caught.

And then...

A sound.

So far away too far.

Emily's voice.

He didn't hear it through the trees.

He heard it inside his chest.

She wasn't near him.

Maybe she was miles away.

But the mask had unlocked every sense, every edge.

And now, his body picked up on things no one else could.

She was talking to a friend.

He slowed.

Listened.

"There's this kid at school, Mike… I feel so bad for him."

"Poor guy's been through so much…"

His feet stopped.

The world stilled.

His heart wasn't beating in his chest anymore.

It was buried somewhere cold, silent.

Pity.

The one thing he couldn't stand.

And yet… in that moment of collapse he didn't fall.

Something inside lit up.

He straightened his back.

Breathed.

And remembered.

He remembered who he was.

He remembered the mask.

He remembered the truth.

He was strong. Not pitiful. Not broken. Not a victim.

He dropped to his knees.

Took a deep, steady breath.

And this time, he didn't suppress the mask.

He breathed with it.

For the first time, a thought rose from within not in fear, not in hesitation…

But in command.

"Alright. It's time. I'm here now."

"Alright. It's time. I'm here now."

With those words, the darkness didn't vanish.

It obeyed.

When morning light spilled into the room, Mikey was already on his feet.

The bed was made. The window was open. Silence had become his ally.

He stepped into the bathroom.

The sound of running water echoed as he faced the mirror.

Tired eyes, sharp lines.

He wasn't the boy from a few days ago.

And he wasn't pretending to be someone else.

He was becoming the version of himself that the shadows could no longer suppress.

He shaved.

Each stroke of the blade felt like peeling away a layer of what used to be.

When he wiped his face clean, the reflection staring back at him wasn't hollow anymore.

It was awake.

He combed his hair smooth, clean, swept back with precision.

He wasn't chasing style.

He wasn't trying to be seen.

This was something deeper.

Effortless elegance.

Old money calm.

Power that never had to scream.

And this morning, Mikey wore it.

He slipped into tailored trousers, neutral in tone.

A crisp, clean shirt.

A timeless jacket.

Polished, minimal shoes.

No flashy jewelry just a subtle chain, and a watch that didn't tick loudly.

Then, the scent.

A quiet, woody fragrance.

Not meant to impress.

Meant to leave memory.

He slung his bag over his shoulder.

Opened the door.

And stepped out.

The world outside was full of routine steps.

But Mikey's?

Each step carved space.

His spine straight, shoulders square, chin level.

He wasn't walking toward school.

He was arriving.

Newford Central High loomed ahead.

When he stepped past the gates…

the air changed.

Students scattered across the yard stopped mid-conversation.

Heads turned.

Eyes widened.

The kid who collapsed two days ago…

was now gliding through the courtyard like a storm in silk.

The whispers came fast:

— "Is that Mike?"

— "No way, that can't be him."

— "Bro, what the hell happened to him?"

— "He's not walking… he's floating."

He didn't acknowledge any of it.

Didn't look around.

Didn't smile.

His expression was calm just calm enough to be dangerous.

His presence didn't demand attention.

It disrupted gravity.

Zack spotted him and stood up instinctively.

"Mike...? Dude... what the hell...?"

Mikey gave a subtle nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He placed a hand on Zack's shoulder.

"Morning, brother," he said. Low. Measured. Solid.

Zack blinked.

He had seen every version of Mikey.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

They began walking toward the classroom.

And then

Emily.

She turned the corner with a friend, mid-laugh.

But the moment her eyes locked with Mikey's, the laugh died on her lips.

He said nothing.

Just gave her a slight nod.

And then

a wink.

Emily froze.

Blinked once.

Then again.

Her gaze followed him as he passed, and in that moment…

her thoughts weren't words.

They were weight.

"That's not the same Mike."

Mikey never looked back.

He walked into the classroom.

And the atmosphere followed him in.