“Well, Eli,” the doctor began, flipping through his clipboard. “Looks like you’re healing nicely. I think you’re ready to go home. Just take it easy for a while, but everything’s looking good.”

Eli exhaled in relief, a faint smile forming. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll make sure to be careful.”

The doctor nodded and patted Eli on the shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re strong. Stay that way.”

Once Eli was officially discharged, his parents brought him home, and the house felt different somehow—quieter, heavier like it was waiting for something to happen. After settling in, Eli sat down with his parents in the living room.

“I’ve been thinking,” Eli started, his voice firm but laced with hesitation. “About what happened. I'm not sure what's coming, but... I want to be prepared. I need to be.”

His father furrowed his brow, listening intently. “Prepared? How?”

“I want to learn how to defend myself,” Eli continued. “Physically. Enroll me in a dojo, a boxing gym, or something. And I want to learn how to use weapons. I can’t let what happened be the end of this. We need to be ready for what’s coming next.”

Mrs. Jameson shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Eli, this sounds dangerous. Are you sure this is the right path?”

“I am.” Eli met her eyes, his expression steady. “This thing... this curse or whatever it is—it’s not going to stop. I won’t let it take me or any of us without a fight. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need this.”

His father sat back in his chair, silent for a few moments before nodding. “Alright. If this is what you want, we’ll look into it. But Eli, be careful. Don’t let this consume you.”

Eli nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Thanks, Dad. I won’t.”

Later that day, Eli picked up his phone and called each of his friends. They had been keeping in touch over the weeks, but now he needed to tell them about the plan.

"Hey, Mike," Eli started when his best friend answered. "I need you to listen to me for a second. I've been thinking. We need to be ready. What happened to me is not a one-time thing. I don’t know when, but it’s coming back. And next time, we need to know how to fight."

"Wait, fight?" Mike's voice was confused but intrigued. "What are you going on about, man?"

“I’m talking about training. Boxing, martial arts, learning how to use weapons. We need to be stronger—mentally and physically. This... whatever this thing is, it’s not going to play around next time.”

Mike was quiet for a second before sighing. “Alright. I’m with you. I’ll start looking into some gyms. We can’t let that thing get us again.”

One by one, Eli called the rest of the group—Sam, Lilian, Rachel, Izzy, and Alyssa—explaining the plan. Each of them agreed, knowing that what they had experienced wasn’t something they could just walk away from. They were in this together, and now they were committed to getting stronger, to facing whatever darkness lay ahead.

As the summer slipped away and the first day of school loomed, Eli’s back had nearly fully healed. The scar left behind was a reminder—a permanent mark of that night and everything it stood for. But he was no longer the same person who had been terrified and helpless. He was determined, focused, and ready to take control.

On the morning of the first day back at school, Eli stood in front of his mirror, staring at the faint scar on his back. He clenched his fists, feeling the fire inside him grow. He had changed, and he wasn’t about to let whatever was out there break him. Not this time.

His phone buzzed with a message from Lilian: See you at school. We’ve got this.

Eli smiled, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the door. School might be starting again, but this year was going to be different. It wasn’t just about surviving anymore—it was about fighting back.