This death march around the gym is beyond tedious.

  “Yo, Theo, how’s my hair looking?”

  I’d rather not antagonize him—he’s my only company, after all—but Hussien has a special talent for getting on my nerves.

  “It doesn’t change, bro.”

  “Nah, it’s looking hella chopped.”

  “Who are you trying to impress? Your parents don’t even let you date.”

  Hussien reminds me of my middle school self—constantly checking his reflection, fishing for validation. I’d like to think I’ve outgrown that phase, but every so often, I’ll steal a glance when no one’s watching.

  “Tsk, it’s not about that, bro.” He rolls his eyes, then quickly pivots. “What do you think about that Chinese freshman? You think she’s bad?”

  As a sophomore, dating a freshman isn’t unheard of, but the idea unsettles me. They were in middle school, what, three months ago?

  I sigh. “No. And you’ve asked me this already.”

  We finished another lap. I’m beginning to regret not choosing soccer. At the start of the semester, we had the option: organized matches or laps in the gym. I hadn’t cared much either way, so I went along with Hussien.

  “Sweat makes my hair lose texture,” was his reasoning.

  The period ends at 11:22 AM, though they usually send us to the locker rooms a minute or two early. Five more minutes. Just five more minutes.

  Hussien taps my shoulder.

  “Hey, can I borrow your jacket? I’m freezing for some reason.”

  “Sure.”

  There was no warning. No shift in the air. No screams. Maybe it happened too fast.

  Coach Matthews had always been a joke to us—a portly, unfit man ironically in charge of physical education. But there was no humor in what happened next. He ruptured into a mound of flesh.

  Slick, spindly tentacles lashed out, seeking warmth, seeking us.

  The gym exploded into chaos. Students bolted for the exits, only to be intercepted. The thing—Matthews?—was climbing. Its grotesque form scrambled along the walls like some nightmare-born spider, bulbous growths tapering into writhing tendrils. It didn’t eat its victims; it impaled them, siphoning their essence until nothing remained.

  Hussien ran.

  Four doors. Two on either side of the gym. But the creature had chosen its feast—those who fled toward the exits leading outside.

  I ran too. Maybe later I’d be pissed that Hussien left me behind, but who could think rationally in a moment like this?

  My feet pounded against the hardwood, each step pushing me forward, away, alive.

  The screaming dulled. Most had escaped, or worse. The only ones left were me and Hussien.

  To his credit—and my infinite relief—he reached the door and held it open, waving frantically, his eyes wild with desperation.

  I barreled through, gasping. “Thanks.”

  He slammed the door shut, and we huddled in the hallway.

  “W-Why the cafeteria?” He swallowed. “And… do you think that thing can open doors?”

  Leaning against the wall, I caught my breath. “The cafeteria doors lock from the inside. We can survive on the food there. And… it has tentacles, not hands, Hussien. It can’t turn a knob.”

  I hesitated.

  “Probably.”

  What followed was some intense skulking. Using our phone cameras, we peeked around corners, fishing for anything unsavory. The cafeteria was close—just down the hallway and a left turn. Simple.

  Except we hit a problem.

  The main lobby and the hallway to the left were completely dark. Pitch black. If we used our phones as flashlights, it’d be like waving a beacon in the void. But I wasn’t too worried.

  Alright, that’s a lie.

  It was really fucking creepy.

  Neither of us wanted to go. So we didn’t. Instead, we veered right, taking the stairs to the upper floor. From there, we could loop around and find another staircase leading back down.

  Step by step, we crept upward, barely daring to breathe. At the top, we flattened against the overhangs on either side of the doorway. Phones out. Cameras on.

  I angled my phone, letting only the barest sliver of the lens peek out before snapping a picture.

  Empty hallway. Good.

  I exhaled. Looked at Hussien.

  His eyes were wide. Unblinking.

  I raised an eyebrow, silently asking what?

  He shook his head and gave me a thumbs up.

  I wasn’t thrilled about navigating this tight corridor—less space meant fewer escape options—but hey, if things went south, maybe they’d eat Hussien first.

  Haha.

  ...Damn, that’s not funny.

  We hugged the edges of the hallway, moving cautiously. Then we stopped.

  I didn’t know why.

  But suddenly, I knew—if I moved, I would die.

  A deep, primal fear settled into my bones.

  Then I heard it.

  Skittering. Claws against marble.

  The thing breathed. Heavy, ragged. A constant wet sniffing, like it had a never-ending cold. My whole body screamed at me to not look, to not breathe, to not exist.

  It moved torturously slow.

  It passed.

  And then—just like that—it was gone.

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  I blinked. What? Did it not see me? The hallway wasn’t even that dark—it was still morning. It should have seen me.

  I risked a glance at Hussien. He looked at me, silently asking: Is it gone?

  I nodded and motioned to a nearby classroom. We slipped inside and shut the door.

  Hussien exhaled shakily, then, with unfiltered terror, whispered, “Shit. Shit. We’re so fucked. I can’t do this anymore.”

  I ignored him. My mind was racing. “How did that thing not attack us?”

  “Huh?”

  I grabbed his shoulders. “We were out in the open. It should’ve seen us.”

  He hesitated. The fear left his face for a moment, replaced by something else. “You didn’t see?” His voice was hushed, almost reverent.

  “See what?”

  “Its eyes,” he swallowed. “They were scratched out.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  By what?

  By who?

  Some other monster?

  Or… had someone fought back?

  When Mr. Pearson turned into a troll, Sudarsh had been the first to smash a chair over his head. His initial act of bravery—or recklessness—had spurred the others into action. Together, they had reduced their electronics teacher to a musclebound corpse with an especially bruised head.

  Now, standing over the remains, Sudarsh exhaled heavily, his chest rising and falling as the adrenaline faded. A pop quiz had never warranted murder before, but here they were.

  "W-what have we done? We killed somebody!"

  Who was that again? Oh. The annoying girl. Sarvia?

  "He was screaming in pain long before we finished him off, Sarvia," Joseph, his best friend, answered before Sudarsh could. "He was reaching for Daniela—he was going to crush her."

  "That doesn’t make it right!" she snapped, stamping her foot like a petulant child. "W-when we get out of here, I’m going to make sure all of you go to jail."

  "Shut up." Sudarsh rubbed the back of his head, exhaustion creeping in. "We need a plan."

  A hand shot up. "Yes, Abhi?"

  "Who knows if there are more of these things? We should stay here and wait for the military or something."

  "In an ideal world, sure. But does this look like an ideal world to you?" He gestured around the classroom. The rush of battle had faded, leaving only unease.

  A human being had just transformed into... whatever that was. That thought alone made his stomach twist.

  "Actually, that reminds me—does anyone feel... different?"

  The room fell into an awkward silence as everyone suddenly found their shoes very interesting.

  "It’s not like I’m going to kill you," he sighed. "I just want to know if we have any potential assets."

  "Assets?" Joseph raised an eyebrow.

  "Yes. As a show of good faith, I’ll start." Sudarsh took a step forward. "My name is Sudarsh Kannan. Born in Hyderabad. Favorite food—pizza. When electronics started, my skin felt itchy. I checked, and well—"

  He lifted his arm and pulled back his sleeve. Normally, his skin was a warm chocolate brown. Now, a patch of sickly green marred it.

  Not very subtly, everyone took a step back—except Joseph. Bless him.

  "I don’t feel pain. I don’t feel like killing anyone. So, you can all stop looking at me like that."

  He rolled his sleeve back down. "This transformation hasn’t progressed, and I doubt I’ll turn into a bloodthirsty monster."

  He sighed. "So. If anyone else has anything... weird going on, now would be the time to speak up."

  Silence.

  Unsurprisingly, nobody raised their hands.

  Sudarsh sighed, rubbing his temples. Of course, no one wanted to admit anything. Fear made people secretive. He understood that.

  "Fine," he said, dropping his arm. "But if one of you starts growing extra limbs or sprouting fangs, I’d appreciate a heads-up."

  No one laughed.

  Joseph folded his arms. "So what now? We can’t just sit here forever."

  "We gather information," Sudarsh said. "Mr. Pearson was the first to change, but we don’t know why. Was it something he ate? Something he touched? Hell, maybe he’s been hiding a troll gene this whole time. We need more data before we—"

  A loud crash outside the classroom cut him off.

  Everyone froze.

  Then, a slow, deliberate scraping sound. Like claws against tile.

  Sudarsh’s heart slammed against his ribs as he turned toward the door. The hallway was dark, the flickering emergency lights casting eerie shadows.

  Another scrape. Closer this time.

  "We need to move," he whispered.

  Abhi’s face was pale. "Where? If more of those things are out there—"

  "Then we don’t wait for them to come to us," Sudarsh said. He glanced at Joseph, who gave him a small nod. Ride or die. That’s why he was his best friend.

  He gestured for the others to be quiet and slowly crept toward the door. Peeking through the small glass window, he barely made out a hunched figure in the hallway. It was too dark to see details, but its breathing was ragged and wet, like something struggling to hold itself together.

  Then, it stopped breathing altogether.

  Sudarsh’s stomach clenched.

  It knows we’re here.

  He turned back to the others. "Okay. Change of plans. We barricade the door. Now."

  Joseph was already dragging a desk across the floor. The others scrambled to do the same, fear overriding hesitation.

  Another loud thud came from outside. The thing was testing the door.

  Sudarsh gritted his teeth. If this was going to be their new reality, they needed to adapt fast. Because right now, survival wasn’t guaranteed.

  And something told him Mr. Pearson wouldn’t be the last monster they’d have to kill.

  After the fiasco with the blind monster, neither of us were in the mood to be moving around. But Hussein’s bladder had other plans.

  Turning to me, he asked hesitantly, “Hey, would this be a bad time to mention I need to take a piss?”

  I stared at him, exasperated. “Yes. But go.” I turned toward the door. “I’m heading to my locker.”

  “What? No! Stay here until I get back.”

  “It’s not far from this classroom. Besides, I’m cold.”

  Hussein bit his nails, shifting from foot to foot. “What if that thing comes back? Or worse?”

  “It’ll be quick. The bathroom’s on the way, anyway. Let’s go.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue, but he followed as I stepped into the hallway. The bathroom was only a short walk, but his nervous fidgeting made me more tense than I expected.

  When we reached the door, Hussein put a hand on the handle, ready to push it open. I stopped him.

  “Wait. We don’t know what’s in there.”

  “Shit, you’re right. Maybe I’ll just go on the floor.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t. That’s nasty. I’ll check first. If you hear me scream, run.”

  “Why are you going in alone? Let’s just go together.”

  “I fear you’ll piss yourself rather than run at the sight of a monster,” I said wryly.

  “Hey!”

  Ignoring his protest, I opened the door and stepped inside.

  Now that I had time to calm down, I had made my resolve—Hussein’s life was worth more than mine. I lived with my shitty uncle, but he had a family waiting for him. If things got bad, I was willing to be the expendable shield.

  The boy’s bathroom at East Shores High was disgusting, even by high school standards. Paper towels littered the wet floor, mixing with cigarette butts and the stench of neglect. I checked beneath the stalls—empty. Just as I turned to leave—

  Something smashed into my skull. Hard. Whatever was used shattered on impact.

  Pain exploded in my head. Before I could react, a kick buckled the back of my knees, and I collapsed, face-first, onto the filthy tile.

  “Oh shit. You’re normal?”

  Dazed, I barely turned my head before another kick landed on my face.

  “Oi, I didn’t say you could look at me.”

  Rough hands grabbed me by the armpits and propped me up.

  “You’ll be fine. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

  Sir, whatever you swung broke on my head. If that wasn’t hard, I’d hate to see what is.

  When the dizziness faded, I finally got a good look at my attacker.

  Large, expressive eyes—deep and endlessly captivating—stared back. Full, naturally rosy lips parted. “Bus Boy?”

  Hadley Davis.

  A pretty, headstrong girl who transferred from a military school. She called me “Bus Boy” because we sat together during the school trip to Tampa.

  “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first. You okay?” she asked.

  I blinked away the pain. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem. But… why are you in the boy’s bathroom?”

  “Looking for a place to hide. This was the closest.” She huffed. “Everything’s gone to shit. My chem teacher turned into an overgrown pig. Always thought she was a fatass, but I didn’t think she’d take it so literally.” She laughed, then added, “Oh yeah. She was green.”

  A green pig? That sounded… familiar.

  “An orc.”

  “Huh?” Her laughter stopped. “Yeah, that. Anyway—what’s the plan? I tried calling the cops, but no service. I don’t think help is coming.”

  “Me and my friend were heading to the cafeteria. Want to come?”

  “Yeah, sure. I wasn’t planning on sticking around anyway.”

  Together, we walked to the bathroom door. I pulled it open, already forming words to assure Hussein that the coast was clear.

  But the hallway was empty.

  She frowned. “Huh. Is your friend invisible?”