The moment the entire room fell silent and the monsters had receded into the depths of this room, I knew that Damien and I were safe for the most part. As long as these illusory horns remained perched on my head, the monsters would show a strange, habitual terror. My gaze remained on the darkness where the beasts once stood, staring into the nothingness for a few moments to ensure we were safe for the most part.

  The air around me never receded with its cold temperature; instead, it only seemed to drop further the longer this strange state I was in persisted. Damien's small hands remained clasped around my horns, clinging to the foreign appendages like a lifeline as the trembling of his body gradually began to falter.

  "Do you think we're safe now?" The young boy asked.

  I looked up at him for a few silent seconds before sighing. "I think the monsters don't really like this...thing."

  I looked back towards the door that had been locked shut by Harland, the crimson light emanating from my horns allowing me to get an ample view. The wooden surface had been mottled and engraved by the sharp claws of beasts. The claw marks varied from barely marking incisions to deeply mottled ruts cutting multiple inches deep in the wood.

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  The spot on the door where a doorknob would have been was like the rest of the door, covered with broken wood that bore a similar texture. The doorknob had been completely removed. Seeing this, my eyes widened as I took a step back.

  I always mindlessly sketched in my science notebook after I had taken all my notes until the period ended, I always huddled in my little corner of the cafeteria, watching videos on my slightly cracked phone. And, while a little unorthodox for someone my age, I had an imaginary friend up until a year ago. From what I could remember, they kept me comfort, but I didn’t know their name anymore.

  I even wrote a book, though it wasn't the best piece of fiction. It was called Isaac's Great Adventure, and I believe the main character got taken to a fantastical world like this. He found love, he had friends, and he was happy. Heh, who knew I wrote self-insert stories like that.

  My train of thought was broken by Damien pinching my cheek, smiling. "No one's too old for stuff like that, dummy."

  The boy's small smile sent a rush of warmth through my body. And I just couldn't help myself. Damien was so much like me, I saw my own eyes within his own. This ...was my chance—I could prove to everyone, prove to my own father that I wouldn't end up like him, that I wouldn't become a monster just like he was.

  I could make Damien my own adopted child, I could correct and right the wrongs that he had placed upon me. Now, there was no more Isaac that would get beaten up and cry himself to sleep, feeling sorry for himself for not being able to control his emotions. No more Isaac that would suppress his emotions, kick charity baskets, and scream into the night sky.

  "First ...we have to find our way out."