Although my body had healed after consuming the heart of the beast that attacked me in my own sanctuary, once the initial rush faded, I felt exhausted and was helped by my faithful to lie on the desk. A stone slab wasn't the most comfortable surface, but it was the cleanest one that wasn't covered in debris.
Once I felt settled, Jude - who now held his head in his hands again - spoke.
"Sir…"
"I'm… rather tired right now."
I answered in between heavy breaths.
"But sir-"
"What is it?"
"I'm not sure how to say this, but…"
"Just say it."
"You have horns, sir."
I immediately reached for my head and Jude was right, I could feel something protrude out of my head in two spots, exactly where a bull's horns would be.
"Do… do they look the same as the beast from just before?"
I looked around and saw most of those surrounding me nod in confirmation.
"Fuck."
The word just came out naturally, almost as a reflex. I didn't quite think about whether I wanted to have horns or not. Just finding out that I did flipped something inside me. Then came the feeling, an active realization that I didn't want these beastly things on my head.
"You look kind of cool, sir," Chris Dawn commented, fiddling with his guts.
"It's a good look, I agree, sir." Thomas concurred.
"Shut up! I don't want freaking horns on my head!"
My sudden outburst - a rare one in this place, if not the first - made everyone flinch and cast their eyes downward.
"Everyone, out. I want to be alone."
The mob scuttled out, but I changed my mind and called out to the duo I wanted to stay.
"Jude, Peter - you guys stay."
There was a certain pride in Jude's face as if he felt he had been chosen to be a special one. Peter said nothing and just approached the desk again.
"Feel the horns."
The duo obeyed my command.
"How do they feel?" I asked.
"They are very solid, sir," Peter reported.
"See if you can pull them out," I ordered.
Jude placed his head on the ground and grabbed one of my horns, Peter did the same, and they pulled.
"Harder," I ordered again as the horns showed no sign of dislodging.
The two grunted and applied more force, but to no avail.
"I don't think we can take them off, sir," Peter said, making his assessment.
"Fuck!"
I banged my fists on the desk I lay on.
"Sir…"
Peter wanted to say something again. I was in no mood for it, assuming he was trying to calm me down. It must have been frightening for them to see me frustrated and angry.
I said nothing and glared at him, but he understood that despite my rage, I still wanted to hear what he had to say.
He swallowed and continued.
"The desk cracked a little, sir."
I bolted up and looked at the spot my fist hit, and Peter was correct. There was a slight crack on the slab of stone.
"Take a look at this, Jude."
Peter helped his headless comrade pick up his head from the ground again. Jude studied the crack I made as well.
"It did indeed crack, sir."
I rolled off the desk and looked around to find something heavy. Something I wouldn't be able to lift. There was a suitable candidate just a few steps away, so I walked over and held onto a concrete debris of considerable size and tried to pick it up.
It worked.
Peter clapped his hands at his master's show of strength.
"That is incredible, sir." Jude joined in on the praise too.
I then tossed the concrete away. It traveled through the air, much farther than I could imagine, and landed with an impossible thud-
"Jonas! Are you OK?!"
"Mom…?"
I looked around and found that I was at the bottom of the stairs back home. My mom was kneeling next to me, looking shocked and concerned.
I immediately reached for my head to check for horns, but all I felt was hair.
"What… happened?"
"Oh dear, you fell down the stairs! Did you bang your head?"
I felt no pain in my body.
"I'm OK, mom."
"Are you sure? Maybe we should go to the hospital to check for a concussion."
I shook my head. Everything felt fine. I wasn't even dizzy.
"I'm really OK. Thanks."
It wasn't a problem for me to just get up either, as if nothing happened.
"I'm glad you are OK. Thank god."
I gave her a reassuring smile. I'd gotten rather good at faking it.
"Where were you going in such a hurry?" she asked me.
"I… was just going for a jog."
She then looked me over from head to toe and asked:
"Dressed like that?"
It was only then that I realized I was still wearing my school uniform.
"I meant- going for a walk, yeah. Going for a walk."
"I'd rather you didn't, Jonas. I think you should lie down and rest."
As if hypnotized by her words, I suddenly felt very tired and sleepy indeed.
"You're right. I'll go back to my room."
"I will check on you every now and then. If you feel dizzy or anything, you have to let me know immediately, OK?"
"Sure."
Mom then gently stroked my head.
It felt soothing.