"Aw, no fair. Why do cops always show up at the wrong time? I was gonna have some fun."
Multiple sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
"Do I stay? Do I leave?" the Grand Assassin said through my mouth. "I mean, it doesn't matter either way."
Police cruisers screeched to a halt. The officers stepped out, spotting my body—me—still wearing the mask.
"Put your hands in the air! Drop any weapons!" one of them shouted.
"Hate to break it to you," the assassin said, unimpressed, "but those guns won't do much. They're practically useless against someone like me."
"Put your hands where we can see them! Now!"
"Okay, okay…" my possessed body muttered, sounding almost disappointed.
I watched—helpless—as my body calmly walked toward the police.
"Got any ID on you?" one of the officers asked.
"It's probably in the bag."
"Where is it?"
My body pointed at my backpack.
"You got any parents we can call?"
"Check my phone."
"And where's that?"
"In my pocket."
The officer retrieved my phone and began flipping through the contacts. Meanwhile, another officer found my student ID.
"His name is Connor Stuven," he said. He tapped on the contact labeled Dad and placed the call.
"Hi, is this the father of Connor Stuven?"
"…My name is Officer Bradley. We got a report that a student had a gun and pointed it at another student. We found your son at the scene… along with three other students. They're… they're dead."
"I crushed the gun. Then I crushed the gun user's head," the assassin said coldly. "Then I killed the other two. All with my bare hands."
"Yeah… your son just admitted to it," the officer said into the phone. "He said he had no choice. The gun was pointed directly at his head…"
"…Yes, we're by the school stadium. Alright. Thank you."
He ended the call and looked at my body.
"Your dad's on his way. For now, stay in the car. And don't do anything stupid."
My body got into the back of the cruiser.
"This is so boring," the assassin grumbled.
His gaze flicked to the dashboard—the controls. He was clearly considering hijacking the vehicle, until one of the officers sat beside him.
"Anything you want to say?" the cop asked.
"He was getting bullied," the assassin replied. "One of them pointed a gun at him. They were gonna kill him. I intervened and killed the bullies. They were trying to hurt someone else."
"And who's 'he'?"
"Uhhh… a friend."
"Just wait till your parents get here."
Five quiet minutes passed before my dad arrived.
"Alright. Let's get you out of here," the cop said.
My body stepped out as my dad approached.
"JIMMY!" the assassin said with forced excitement.
My dad froze. "Oh God…"
"Is this your son?"
"Yes, sir. I'm so sorry this happened."
"Don't worry. He won't be charged. Everything was self-defense. Just make sure he stays out of trouble."
"I'll try my best to."
My body walked over.
"Just get in the car," my dad said coldly.
"Ji—"
"Not a word. We'll talk at home."
The car ride was silent. No music. No words. Just tension.
We pulled into the driveway.
"Get inside."
My body walked in and sat on the couch.
"Jimmy. Jim. James!" the assassin said, stretching out in my body. "I'm so glad we can talk face to face. Your dad wouldn't let me speak earlier."
"What happened?" my dad asked, his voice low and serious.
"Bully had a gun. Pointed it at your son. Pulled the trigger—shot him in the leg. Your son grabbed his bag, found the mask. I took over. Then I killed the bully. Well—bullies. There were multiple."
"Can I talk to my son now?"
"Of course. Always a pleasure, Jimmy."
The mask suddenly loosened and dropped from my face. I blinked. My breath hitched.
"Dad… what happened?" I asked, breaking into tears as I collapsed into his arms.
"It's okay. You're safe now. Are you hurt?"
"He… he shot me… in the leg…" I looked down, but there was no bullet wound. My leg was perfectly healed.
"I know you've got a million questions," Dad said, exhaling. "For starters… yes. The bullies are dead. The assassin killed them."
"What do you mean assassin?"
"The mask. The one your Poppop kept in the glass case—it was real. It holds the spirit of a legendary assassin. Anyone who wears it is granted his power, but the spirit takes over the body. You now hold that power inside you."
"Dad… he saved me."
"I know. But he's still dangerous. As of now, no more wearing the mask."
"Wait… so I still have the assassin's power?"
"You do. But the mask is what allows him to take control."
"What if someone else wears it?"
"They won't gain anything. The mask bonds to one person only. That bond can't be broken unless you find a way to release the power. Your grandfather wore it before you. Same thing happened to him."
"Aw, I gave him plenty of freedom," the mask chimed.
"Um… Dad, the mask just talked."
"I'm not that bad, I promise," the mask said. "I just wanna have some fun."
"I can hear it… but you can't?"
"No. Only the bonded one can hear him," Dad said. "And trust me—whatever it's telling you, it's a lie."
"I don't think he's as bad as you say."
"That mask is a curse."
"That's so rude," the mask replied. "After I saved your son?"
"Whatever happens next," Dad said, locking eyes with me, "just know: you can't undo anything the mask has done."