There is a character limit for each chapter, and I didn't know.

So the third chapter was divided

His father had returned to exact revenge for the breaking of his chair.

Sami awoke to a loud noise that tore sleep from his chest. The sound was sharp, accompanied by a ringing that made him sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes still half-closed, peering towards the window.

Dawn was still far off.

The sharp ringing repeated, like a church bell crashing onto a priest’s head. But they were not Christians, and they had no bells save the one at the door… and the doorbell’s chime was thinner, like the clang of a copper pot…

Sami rubbed his eyes with his fist and yawned.

But their neighbour had stopped banging pots since his father landed a knockout punch.

A knockout!

Like a judge striking a gavel on a marble table.

But the marble was in the parlour, and the sound came from the kitchen. Their kitchen had ceramic tiles. Unless… unless the ceramic had turned to marble in the night!

Sami shook his head. Things didn’t transform on their own except in One Thousand and One Nights. Or… or someone had brought marble!

Who would carry marble to a kitchen in the middle of the night?

A builder? No, builders slept at night.

A thief? But a thief would steal marble, not bring it!

Unless it was a generous thief.

Or… a foolish thief.

Like the thief who tried to rob them but was caught because he forgot to extinguish his lantern’s wick. But times had changed, and people used electricity now.

A thief from the past?

An ancient thief carrying marble and striking it with a small hammer… like a dentist’s hammer!

Sami’s thoughts halted.

A dentist… from the past… striking marble… in his kitchen…

But why?

Perhaps searching for teeth?

Marble had become valuable—could he be trying to steal it?

Steal it…

“My father’s ghost is fighting a mad dentist from the past trying to steal my marble teeth!”

Sami paused for a moment.

Then he lay back down, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

He really needed to stop reading One Thousand and One Nights…

His eyelids grew heavy, his breaths settling into calm, and he began to slip back towards sleep—when the same sound jolted him again.

Sami’s eyes snapped open.

The kitchen.

His gaze darted instinctively to the nearby wooden staircase, where the leather-bound book with its worn cover lay, then to the kitchen itself, which had borne witness to hours of strange experiments. He glanced at the closed window, measuring the distance to the ground below.

Could he survive a jump? But what if it was merely a thief?

He sighed. He’d never forgive himself if he let a thief plunder his family’s legacy.

Abandoning the idea of hiding beneath the blankets, he leapt up, only for his feet to tangle. He crashed to the floor, his blanket wrapping around him like a severed cocoon, the thud of his body echoing through the room.

With a single motion, he freed himself from the covers and listened intently. The sound from the kitchen had stopped. He swallowed hard, his throat heavy. Whatever was down there, it knew he was fully awake now.

Clutching the book to his chest, he hurried into the dark corridor, fumbling for a weapon. All he found was a long broom he’d meant to use for cleaning the attic.

What good would a broom do against a thief?

He wasn’t his mother, with her martial mastery of the broom, and he doubted even her broom-wielding prowess could handle whatever was in the kitchen if it wasn’t a thief. He suspected there was little difference between a broom and a rifle if the intruder wasn’t human.

He studied the broom from top to bottom. Perhaps the broom his grandmother used to slay scorpions could banish demons?

He sighed again, steeled himself, and lifted it with a trembling hand, tiptoeing towards the kitchen.

Please, God, let it be a thief… Please, God, let it be a thief…

He paused, reconsidering.

Please, God, let it be an unarmed thief… Please…

He neared the kitchen door, holding the book before him like a shield and raising the broom in his other hand like a crude spear. He stole a sideways glance through the doorway, planning a surprise attack if an intruder was there. But his feet were angled towards the corridor, ready to flee at any moment if what lay inside wasn’t… human.

A rat, gnawing at his hammer.

He blinked once… then twice.

No, his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

It was a rat, truly.

A rat was trying to drag his hammer to some unknown destination, known only to God.

Fury ignited in his chest like a barrel of gunpowder.

This tiny creature, this wretched rat, was the source of all the terror that had nearly driven him to hurl himself from the window.

Humiliation washed over him, making him feel like a child play-acting a knight against neither thief nor demon.

All those preparations, all those escape plans—for a rat.

He dropped what he held, the broom clattering to the floor with a tremendous crack.

The rat leapt in fright, scrambling towards the old clay oven.

No, by God, you won’t get away.

Sami yanked off his slipper and hurled it with such force he nearly toppled over. The slipper shot like a missile, grazing the rat and folding it in half. It let out a sharp squeal but quickly regained its footing and resumed its escape.

You won’t get away that easily.

Sami tore off his other slipper and launched it with all his might. The creature dodged at the last second, and the slipper slammed into the floor, its impact booming through the silence. The terrified rat abruptly changed course, leaping onto the marble counter where knives and large spoons lay scattered. Its black eyes widened in panic as it tried to hide behind a clay pot.

That wasn’t enough for Sami, who closed the distance between them in a flash, snatching the nearest slipper in his path and hurling it. But the rat leapt aside at the last moment, and the slipper crashed into an old metal tin on the shelf, sending black pepper exploding into the air like a dark cloud that seared his nose.

Sami coughed, struggling to see through the sudden storm. The rat seized its chance, darting towards the wooden shelves, clambering expertly over tins of spices and pulses. Lentils and wheat scattered from their wooden containers.

“No!” That was his food for the rest of the month.

Sami advanced with heavy steps, his breaths quickening. He looked up to see the rat scrambling towards the small ventilation window. In a desperate lunge, he grabbed a hanging kitchen towel and shook it violently, trying to knock the creature down.

The rat leapt at the critical moment, landing on the metal sink with a faint clatter. The chase became a frenzied dance around the sink, with the squeak of feet on ceramic and water droplets splashing from the old taps.

At last, Sami cornered the rat between the sink and the wall. The tiny creature trembled, its eyes brimming with terror, but Sami paid no heed to the eerie human-like expressions on its face. With nothing to strike it with, he lunged and seized it in an iron grip.

The rat’s frail body writhed in his hand, its delicate bones palpable beneath his grasp. It struggled fiercely, its hind legs clawing wildly at Sami’s palm. He strode towards the small window to rid himself of it forever, but as he prepared to fling it out, the rat sank its sharp teeth into his thumb.

“Ow!” Sami yelped in sudden pain, releasing the rat instinctively. Its tiny body sailed through the air, slamming into the opposite wall with force before dropping to the tiles.

Sami hurriedly pressed his bleeding wound with his other hand, sitting back and gasping from pain and shock. When he looked up to find the rat, he saw it hiding behind a table leg. It hadn’t fled as he’d expected but was watching him with eyes that no longer conveyed only fear, but something else…

Was the rat challenging him?

They locked eyes for a long, tense silence, but the rat broke it first. Its gaze slowly shifted to the small hammer lying on the floor, then back to Sami.

Sami thought for a moment before rising and approaching slowly, his injured hand wrapped in a cloth. He bent towards the hammer, his eyes still fixed on the rat, which retreated in fear. Sami paused abruptly, whispering reassurances:

“Don’t be afraid… I won’t hurt you.”

He moved his hand deliberately towards the hammer, his eyes watching the rat, which began to calm gradually. He noticed how its eyes tracked every movement of his hand.

“You want this hammer, don’t you?” Sami whispered softly.

He began to wave the hammer lightly in the air, then stepped back, retreating instead of advancing. He crouched lower, making himself appear smaller to seem less threatening to the tiny creature.

“Look… I’m moving away… don’t be afraid.”

The rat stood still for a moment, its nose sniffing the air, its eyes never leaving the hammer. Then it began to move cautiously, taking small, halting steps, advancing and pausing as if testing Sami’s intentions.

When the rat reached halfway between them, Sami gently placed the hammer on the floor and stepped back slowly, leaving enough distance between himself and the tool.

“It’s yours…” he said calmly.

The rat stood still for a moment, gazing at the hammer, then looked at Sami, as if silently thanking him, before approaching the tool and bending over it, sniffing it with its tiny nose.

In a flash, with one swift motion, Sami grabbed a glass jar from the shelf behind him, which he had strategically neared during his calculated retreat. In a moment the rat didn’t anticipate, he slammed the jar onto the floor, trapping the small creature beneath it.

“Got you!”