Chapter 13: The mask

Another thing he had to decide the manner of his revenge, and that brought up another important question. Should he use a disguise, or should he go with his face bare to make a statement to the bullies?

Jelo turned the thought over in his mind carefully.

Going without a disguise had its appeal. It would send a clear message. It would show Xino and his crew that he wasn’t afraid of them anymore, that he was strong enough to stand up to them directly. It would be bold. Defiant. A statement that he wasn’t going to be pushed around ever again.

But the more Jelo thought about it, the more he realized how foolish that would be.

If he went after Xino without a disguise, the consequences would be immediate. The teachers would know it was him. The other students would know it was him. And even if he succeeded, even if he managed to beat Xino down the way Xino had beaten him, he’d be the one who got punished for it. He’d be the one dragged in front of the administration. He’d be the one expelled or worse.

No.

That wasn’t smart.

He decided on the disguise.

The reasoning was simple. If he wore a disguise, they would suspect it was him, but they wouldn’t be able to prove it. They would fear him, but they’d also be powerless to do anything about it. The uncertainty would eat at them. The doubt. The paranoia. They’d look over their shoulders, wondering if he was coming for them next, but they’d have no evidence, no proof to bring to the teachers.

And that was exactly what Jelo wanted.

He wanted them to know it was him. He wanted them to feel the fear he’d felt. But he also wanted to be untouchable. Unreachable. A shadow they couldn’t catch.

With this plan settled in his mind, Jelo closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

—–

When he woke up, it was early in the night.

Jelo’s eyes snapped open, and the first thing he did was curse himself. He’d overslept. The clinic was dim now, lit only by a few soft emergency lights along the walls. The shadows stretched long across the floor, and the air felt cooler, quieter.

He sat up slowly, his body still aching but much better than before. The pain in his ribs had dulled significantly, and his nose no longer throbbed with every heartbeat. The system’s healing was doing its work, slow but steady.

Still, he cursed himself for sleeping so long. He’d wasted time. Precious time.

But then again, it wasn’t all bad. It was early in the night now, which meant students would still be out. Some would be in the cafeteria, some in the common areas, some wandering the corridors. It was the perfect time to move around without drawing too much attention. And more importantly, it meant Xino and his crew would likely still be awake.

He would have the opportunity to complete his quest.

Jelo stood up, and immediately his head swam. He felt a little wobbly, a little dizzy, his balance off. He gripped the edge of the bed for a moment, steadying himself, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

After a few seconds, it did. His legs felt more solid beneath him, and his vision cleared.

He looked around the clinic. The place was empty. Nurse Caldwell was nowhere to be seen, probably off attending to something else or taking a break. The beds around him were all vacant, their white sheets neatly tucked and waiting for the next injured student.

Good. No one to ask questions.

Jelo headed toward the door, his steps quiet against the polished floor. He pushed it open slowly, peeking out into the corridor beyond. It was mostly empty, just a few students walking in the distance, their voices faint and muffled.

He slipped out and closed the door behind him.

But he didn’t head back to his room. Not yet.

The thing was, Jelo needed a mask to use as his disguise. And under normal circumstances, it would be hard to find one. This was a military academy, after all, not a costume shop. Masks weren’t exactly common.

But Jelo had an advantage.

During their tour the previous day, they had been taken to a room where a bunch of antique items had been displayed. Historical artifacts, decorative pieces, old weapons, things that had been collected over the years and put on display for students to see. Among those items, Jelo remembered seeing some decorative masks. They’d been mounted on the wall, arranged in neat rows, their painted faces staring out at the passing students.

It was there that Jelo was headed now, with a plan to “borrow” one of those masks.

He moved through the corridors carefully, keeping to the walls, avoiding the main paths where students congregated. His heart beat steadily in his chest, but he wasn’t nervous. Not really. This was necessary. This was part of the plan.

He turned a corner and headed down a narrower hallway, one that led toward the older parts of the academy. The walls here were less polished, the lighting dimmer. Fewer students came this way, which made it perfect for what Jelo needed.

After a few more turns, he found it. The hall with the antique items.

The door was unlocked, which didn’t surprise him. The academy probably didn’t expect anyone to bother stealing decorative artifacts. Most students wouldn’t even think to come here. And even if they did, what would they take? Old swords? Ancient scrolls? None of it was useful in the modern sense.

But Jelo wasn’t here for swords or scrolls.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was long and narrow, with display cases lining both walls. Inside the cases were various items, old uniforms, rusted weapons, faded banners, and yes, masks. Lots of masks.

Jelo walked along the wall, scanning the collection. There were all kinds. Some were simple and plain, carved from wood. Others were ornate, painted with bright colors and intricate designs. Some looked ceremonial, others looked like they’d been used in battle.

Jelo’s eyes moved over them carefully, searching for the right one.

He needed something that would hide his face completely. Something that wouldn’t slip or fall off during a fight. And something that looked intimidating enough to make an impression.

Then he found it.

A white ceramic mask with jade-green eyes and giant fangs. It was made in the face of a snow leopard, its features sharp and predatory. The jade eyes seemed to gleam even in the dim light, and the fangs curved down menacingly, giving the mask a feral, dangerous look.

It was perfect.

Jelo reached up and carefully lifted the mask off its mount. It was heavier than he expected, solid and well-made. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. The inside was smooth, with padded edges that would rest comfortably against his face. There were straps on either side to secure it.

He held it up to his face for a moment, testing the fit. It covered everything from his forehead down to his chin, leaving only his eyes visible through the jade slits.

Yes. This would work.

Jelo grabbed the mask firmly and, with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, headed out of the room.

It was time for revenge.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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