Successor to Devil

Successor To Devil | PART FIVE |

"Okay, Mason, See you after class!” 

Melody waves, large wafting wingspans over the heads of her fellow Blessed students, and even though he might not see it, she winks playfully at him. 

The duo finally made it to school after racing the last stretch. And naturally, as they’ve ever had to, Melody and Mason go to their respective halves of the school. The rules of the school of Masquerade dictate as such- Apply, Register, and Attend to your own half of the school- a side filled with Blessed students, and the other with the Cursed. 

Melody shouts aloud her pride in having the friendship of a Cursed boy, a fact that many on her side of the school don’t appreciate. 

“Bye, my friend!” 

Her screams quiet after a moment, pushed along by the gathering Blessed trying to enter their courtyard. 

“Yeah, yeah- later.”

Mason coolly waves his hand, a limp shooing away to Melody’s general direction as he walks off to his own side of Masquerade, a much more derelict and decrepit piece of land. The grass beneath Mason crunches and falls away, dried and browned with carelessness. The stench of moving dirt releases some sort of haphazard pesticide, a smell that mixes perfectly with the several unmaintained garbage cans that line the walls. Trash lays strewn about, and a few animals have made a homely nest in the tree standing lonesome in their yard. One piece of nature managing to survive the harsh terrain. 

Mason steps over some fresh garbage and makes his way through some standing pillars. 

KrrrrrPikk!

“Welcome students! To another year at Masquerade! We here at the school hope you’ve used your summer to dutifully finish up any extracurriculars and have been taking care to manage yourselves and your growths! Because here at Masquerade, we want to see you used up to your fullest potential, both Blessed and Cursed alike.”

A painfully glib voice screeches from the P.A system standing atop one of the very tall pillars in the middle of the school’s courtyard. Ornate designs surround the pillar, and the reaching poles circling it, creating a welcoming grotto for students and teachers the same; Masquerades' argument for the cleanliness of the Cursed courtyard. 

The Cursed student body of Masquerade is forced to listen to this blared message, nearly deafened by the voluminous uproar. The announcer, that no one knows, is a very excitable personality. 

“We hope you’ll have plenty of opportunity for making friends, making partners, and making sure you have a good team to rise through this year’s Divine Contention, especially with the WHOPPING 1,000 students attending Masquerade this year!”

The announcements continue, perfect for Mason to half-ignore as he shoves his pinky into his right ear, twisting it to pick out any wax while he’s at it. 

“Ugh, Dammit Announcer-guy. 999 idiots attending Masquerade this year!”

Mason presses harder with his pinky in his ear, having to walk particularly close to the pillar with the loudspeakers on it, passing it quickly as he mocks the rest of the student body, wearing what can only be called his “School face”. Mason sometimes will have to force himself to bite his bottom lip, otherwise, he’d word his opinions out loud and offend people- which he doesn’t mind too much, it’s the people that complained. Doing this, Mason ends up looking even meaner than usual, which keeps folks away from him at a good distance, a serious perk in his eyes. 

Mason shoves aside one of the enormous doors in his way, entering into the Cursed side of the school. The doors are tall and thin, heavy with decorative swirls and newly etched in flames and swears, courtesy of the students entering. Throwing the doors opens, Mason fights to get away from the annoying buzz and hum of the announcements, breaking into a new annoying hush- students stopping their chatter to watch his bullying walk. 

“Cheh.” 

Mason huffs through his teeth, ignoring the rabble of students and making his way further in. 

The broken P.A systems inside bring him some comfort, spurting literal sparks on sectioned-off parts of the halls. Yellow tape is all that’s to stop them from possible electrocution, and that’s enough in the eyes of those who run Masquerade. This side of the school has always managed to escape help from facilities. The “Work in Progress” project that is Masquerade’s Cursed school building can be remembered all the way back to the last holidays. 

A gracious effort made on behalf of the Blessed school, originally meant to only take in and train the Blessed. Mason and the rest of the Cursed students have learned to live with it. No one cares to fight for their rights anymore. 

“-you know, this facility has been implemented to help and better understand the nature of the Curses and Blesses given to humanity- “

“Ugh… guess they have working speakers up here on the 2nd floor.”

His disappointment is sharp. Mason furrows his brow and hitches his shoulders, hovering past his classmates. Reaching the top of the stairs, Mason hits the second-floor where the second-year returning students are to have their year. 

“-and that’ll be it for your morning announcements, I look forward to catching up with you every day! Et Caelum Et Infernum!”

“Jeez. We get it. “

 Mason shakes his head, shrugging off the loud and annoying voice. His pinky scratches the inner wall of his ears before he pulls it out and looks. A tiny speck of orangey-brown wax sits atop his finger and he blows it off. 

BRI RI RI RI RI RI RI RI RI NG

The first bell rings and a mass of hustling youths both push and meander their way into the halls to find their lockers, their friends and move to head into their classrooms. Mason both hates and loves to watch this scene as it reminds him of worker insects, blindly droning along. 

Outside of one particular Second-year class stands a boy of average height and thinner build. The familiar tree-green hair alerts out of the students' typical blonde, black, brunette, platinum, and red. 

“Mas, Hey!"

Continued in PART SIX…