After saying those words, Abdul wondered once again where this ring could have come from. The more he thought about it, the more an unsettling realization settled in: the ring seemed almost conscious, as if it were observing, judging, waiting.
Sall broke the silence with a determined voice.
— I'm going back to see my sister.
Abdul turned sharply to him, eyebrows furrowed.
— Idiot. Keep going like that, and you'll soon have no fingers left.
Sall raised his hand, watching the ring tighten around his finger. The object seemed to grip even more, making the skin redden. Despite the pain, he gave a resigned, almost serene smile.
— I spent several years of my life away from my sister. Losing a finger won't make me give up.
Abdul let out an exasperated sigh. He knew that even if he tried to stop him, Sall wouldn't back down. With a weary tone, he said:
— Then take it off.
Sall shook his head slowly.
— My mother told me never to remove it. She said no one else should wear it but me. I never understood why she insisted so much, but I intend to honor her wishes… even if it costs me a finger.
Abdul placed his hand on his forehead, as if to chase away a headache.
— Ah, Sall… you're really stubborn. Even when we were kids, it was always like this.
A small smile appeared on his face despite everything.
— Yeah, Sall replied with a shrug. You don't change a winning team.
At that moment, a familiar, high-pitched voice echoed through the house.
— Sall!
Aïcha was calling for him. Sall turned to Abdul.
— Well, see you later.
He didn't have time to add anything before Aïcha appeared in front of him. She stopped abruptly, looked at him for a second, then playfully punched him in the stomach and ran off laughing.
— Hey! Sall protested, clutching his stomach, groaning in pain.
He immediately chased after his sister. They ran around the house, laughing, hiding behind walls and furniture. Time passed unnoticed. They played, talked, and reminisced about their childhood, as if the outside world had vanished.
Finally, exhausted from the day's adventures, Aïcha rested her head on her brother's lap. Her eyelids closed almost instantly. Sall watched her sleep, his heart tightening with emotion. He thought quietly to himself: I wish this moment could last forever. But all good things must end.
Carefully, he lifted his sister and placed her in her bed. He adjusted the blanket, then was about to leave the room. Before stepping out, his gaze was drawn to the window. He approached it and admired the night sky filled with stars, silent and still.
Strangely, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew cooler, heavier, almost oppressive. Sall felt his eyelids grow heavy, as if an invisible force was pulling them down. His vision blurred… and he fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting at the dining table of their old house.
Sall froze, breathless.
— What…?
He looked around in disbelief. This house… he recognized it perfectly. Yet he hadn't stepped inside for years. Every detail was the same: the cracks in the walls, the old broken clock, the familiar scent of worn wood.
— What am I doing here? he whispered.
He tried to recall what had happened. Slowly, memories returned.
I was in Aïcha's room. I was looking out the window… then I fell asleep.
Asleep.
He furrowed his brows.
— Wait… asleep?
A conclusion hit him.
— I'm in a dream.
The more he observed, the more it seemed obvious. Everything felt real, too real, yet something was off, like a perfectly crafted imitation.
— Alright… how do I wake up?
Before he could ponder further, a familiar noise reached his ears. Voices. He recognized them immediately.
— Dad… Mom…
His heart raced. He slowly approached their room, each step feeling heavier than the last. Reaching the door, he hesitated, then opened it.
What he saw chilled him to the bone.
His parents were there… or rather, what was left of them. Their bodies seemed to melt, soften, as if turning into butter under an invisible heat. Their faces lost all human shape, their features collapsing, dripping.
— No… Sall whispered, unable to look away.
The scene was both unreal and terrifying. Grotesque, almost hypnotic. His mind refused to accept what he saw, but his eyes could not lie.
He took a step back, then another. His breath quickened. He realized he was not yet at the end of his ordeal… and that this nightmare was only beginning.
A deep, muffled laugh suddenly echoed through the house, a laugh that seemed to belong to no one. Sall shivered. Instinctively, he touched his finger.
The ring.
It was still there.
Colder than ever.
As if it were taking delight in what it showed him.
Sall clenched his teeth.
— It's you… isn't it?
The laughter faded, replaced by heavy silence. The house seemed to breathe, the walls creaking softly. Sall then understood that this dream might not be an ordinary one… or at least, not just a dream.
He was trapped in something.
And that something had decided to reveal his deepest fears.
The eternal night had only just begun.