*Now playing: Bulletproof Heart by My Chemical Romance*
The sound echoes faintly from a jagged speaker in the corner, the driving drum beat clashing with the lazy afternoon humidity.
It was lunchtime, the hour when the school hung suspended between the morning's fatigue and the afternoon's heat. Ophelia was, as usual, isolating herself in the corner of the classroom. She wasn't an outcast, she was far from that, but today, the gravity of existence felt particularly heavy. She was drained, and the sheer effort of socializing felt like it will consume her energy more.
Across the room, the air buzzed with electric distortion. Her classmates were huddled around amps and tangled cords, tuning their electric guitars for the upcoming school festival. The screech of feedback and the thrum of power chords should have been annoying, but to Ophelia, it was just white noise, a lullaby of teenage angst that drifted over her as she rested her head on her crossed arms.
"May I excuse Ophelia?"
The polite voice cut through the guitar riffs. Dev stood at the doorway, flashing a charming, apologetic smile to the guitarists. One of Ophelia's classmates, a tall boy with a bass guitar strapped to his chest, walked over and nudged her shoulder. "Oi, Lia. Your boy is here."
But nothing, there's no response. Ophelia remained motionless, breathing rhythmically like she was hibernating. The classmate poked her again, harder. Then he shook her. It was like trying to wake a stone statue.
Dev sighed, stepping into the room. "Step aside, amateur." He marched up to her desk, rolled up his sleeve, and delivered a solid, resounding whack to her back.
"Oh shi—!" Dev hissed, shaking his hand instantly. It felt like he'd slapped a bag of cement.
Ophelia shot up like a spring-loaded trap, eyes wild. "What the heck is wrong with you?!" she shrieked, twisting to massage the stinging spot between her shoulder blades.
"S-sorry! I didn't thought it'll be too strong!" Dev yelped, grabbing her wrist before she could retaliate. "Anyway, let's talk. We're moving."
"No. I need to sleep. I am recovering from exhaustion," she grunted, planting her feet firmly on the ground.
"With your current demeanor, you look like a Victorian orphan who hasn't eaten in three days," Dev retorted, not letting go.
"I've already eaten," she lied, her stomach traitorously silent.
"Liar. You're coming with me."
He dragged her, like literally dragged her, her heels scuffing against the linoleum, out of the room and down the corridor. By the time they reached their friend's classroom, Ophelia had given up fighting and gone limp, letting Dev haul her like a sack of potatoes.
They flopped down next to Johanne, the third point of their triangle. Johanne looked up from his notebook, adjusting his glasses.
"You didn't get her to stand up lightly, did you?" Johanne asked, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.
"I can't help it," Dev wiped sweat from his forehead. "She looks pitiful in that room. Like a wilted houseplant."
"Shut up," Ophelia mumbled, burying her face in her arms on the new desk. "I did what you wanted. I got dragged here. My payment is a nap. Wake me up when the festival starts... or when September ends."
"Deal," Johanne smiled softly.
But luck was not something that Ophelia possessed today. She had barely drifted into the darkness of sleep when their surroundings violently shook.
*BOOOOOOMM!!*
The sound wasn't just heard, it was felt deep inside of their bones. The shockwave rattled the teeth in Ophelia's skull. Windows blew inward, showering the floor with diamonds of safety glass. Visible, spiderweb cracks shot up the concrete walls with a sickening crunch.
Ophelia scrambled up, heart hammering against her ribs. "What... what was that?"
"I'm not sure," Johanne said, his voice tight. He and Dev were already on their feet, instincts overriding confusion. "Let's go."
They moved into the hallway, which had transformed into a river of panic. Students were screaming, shoving, sprinting toward the exits. Dev reached out, yanking a terrified sophomore by the collar of his uniform.
"Hey! What's going on up there?" Dev asked.
The boy was trembling, eyes wide and unseeing. "M-monsters! There are... there are monsters! You guys better run—!"
*CRAacCK-BOOoOomM!*
Another explosion, closer this time. The ceiling lights flickered and died, plunging the hallway into a grey gloom. The three of them ducked instinctively, covering their heads as dust and debris rained down on them.
"Monsters?" Ophelia whispered, the word tasting wrong in her mouth. "Like... some crazy people wearing a mascot suit?"
"Probably a terrorist attack," Johanne corrected. He grabbed both their arms, pulling them back toward the classroom. "Gas hallucinations, maybe. Let's hide here. It's better to be safe than to get trampled or shot."
"Yep," Dev agreed, looking pale. "Let's just wait for the police, the SWAT team. Someone with a gun to take those killers down."
"But we need to know," Ophelia argued, a strange, morbid curiosity overriding her fear. "What if he meant real monsters? What if we're trapped?"
"Lia, stay still," Johanne warned, reaching for her.
But she was stubborn. She always had been. Ophelia pulled away and stepped out to the open corridor, leaning over the balcony railing to look down at the courtyard below.
The air left her lungs. "Oh shit," she breathed, the terror turning her blood to ice.
They were there. Two of them.
They were humanoid in shape, but that was where the humanity ended. They were ebony black, like shadows cut from the fabric of the universe, their bodies shrouded in a haze of floating spores and grey ash. They had no faces—no noses, no mouths—except for eyes. Spherical, glowing white orbs that seemed to burn with a cold, hungry light.
Ophelia confirmed it with her own eyes. Not terrorists. Not men in masks. Monsters.
As if sensing her gaze, one of the entities snapped its head up. The glowing white eyes locked onto her.
Ophelia froze. A primal instinct, the reptile brain screaming don't move, paralyzed her.
The monster began to move. It didn't run; it flowed. It approached the wall below her and began to climb, its limbs defying gravity, stabbing into the concrete like hot knives through butter. Step by step, closer and closer.
"LIA!!" Dev and Johanne screamed in unison.
The monster crested the balustrade, hauling itself onto their floor. It stood up, twitching.
"Come here!" Johanne yelled.
The scream broke her paralysis. Ophelia turned and sprinted back toward her friends. But the monster didn't chase immediately. It stood motionless, tilting its oblong head in an eerily peculiar manner, observing them like a scientist observing lab rats.
"Let's go..." Dev hissed, grabbing Ophelia's hand. "Don't look at it. Just run."
They backed away slowly, then turned and bolted.
The moment they ran, the predator instinct triggered. The monster sprang into action, a blur of black smoke and kinetic energy. It closed the gap in seconds, moving with a horrifying, silent speed.
Ophelia's legs felt heavy, like she was running through deep water. The fatigue she felt earlier compounded with fear, turning her muscles to lead.
"AAHH!" Ophelia screamed as cold, claw-like fingers snagged the hem of her skirt. The force yanked her backward.
"Stay back!" Johanne roared.
He didn't run away. He threw himself at the creature, slamming his shoulder into its midsection.
The impact broke the monster's grip on Ophelia, sending her flying across the hall where she slammed hard into the lockers.
"NO! JOHANNE!" she screamed, sliding down the metal doors.
The monster recovered instantly. It grabbed Johanne by the throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. The featureless face of the beast split open—vertically.
"Go! Save yourself—!" Johanne choked out, his eyes meeting Ophelia's one last time.
The monster's maw revealed row upon row of needle-like, translucent teeth. It didn't bite; it shoved. It shoved Johanne's head into its mouth, the sound of wet tearing silencing his final cry.
"NO—NO!!" Ophelia clawed at the floor, trying to stand, trying to scream, trying to wake up from this nightmare.
"F#ck, f#ck, f#ck it! Lia! Let's go—!" Dev's voice cracked, high and hysterical. He grabbed her under the arms, hauling her upright.
They ran. Dev was in the lead this time, his grip on her wrist bruisingly tight.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Ophelia sobbed, the tears blurring her vision. "Leave me alone, Dev. Just run. I can't... I killed him. I killed him."
"Don't let Johanne's sacrifice go to waste!" Dev shouted back, tears streaming down his own face, mixing with the dust. "Shut up and run!"
"My legs... they're just too weak!" She tried to pull her arm free. "Just leave! I'm begging you, please! I don't deserve to be alive!"
Ophelia stopped running. She sank to her knees, ready to accept the teeth, ready to join Johanne.
Seconds passed. She expected pain.
Instead, she felt nothing but the vibration of footsteps storming past her, followed by a sickening, wet impact behind her.
Ophelia spun around.
Dev was there. The monster had caught up. But instead of grabbing her, it had impaled Dev. A long, smoky black claw protruded from his stomach, lifting him into the air.
Dev coughed, blood spattering his chin. He looked at Ophelia, his face twisted in agony but his eyes clear.
"Lia..." he croaked, the life draining out of him. "I'll... I'll follow Johanne. Please. Run."
The scream that tore from Ophelia's throat was animalistic. She scrambled to her feet, fueled by a rage that burned hotter than her fear. She dashed to the nearest classroom door and pounded on it.
"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!" she screamed. Through the reinforced glass, she saw students hiding under desks, trembling. They looked at her, then looked away. No one moved. No one opened the door.
She turned back to the monster. She grabbed its arm—the one holding Dev—and pulled. "Please! Let him go! You've already had your fill! Please stop!"
The monster didn't even look at her. It flicked its arm, sending Ophelia sprawling across the floor. It brought Dev's unconscious body toward its maw, disregarding her existence entirely. She was insignificant.
Run, Dev's voice echoed in her head.
Ophelia looked at the carnage. If she stayed, she died. If she died, Johanne and Dev died for nothing.
With a sob that felt like it tore her throat lining, she turned and fled.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty air. "I'm so sorry."
She found a faculty restroom, threw herself inside, and locked the door. She collapsed into the farthest stall, locking that too, and curled into a ball on top of the toilet seat to hide her feet.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Something heavy slammed against the restroom door. Ophelia clapped both hands over her mouth, biting her tongue to keep from screaming. Tears leaked from her eyes, hot and endless.
If only I hadn't been so lazy. If only I hadn't looked over the balcony. If only I was stronger.
The banging continued for an eternity. Then, silence.
Ophelia waited. Ten minutes? An hour? Time had lost its meaning.
Finally, she slowly unclamped her hands from her mouth. The silence was heavy, oppressive. She stepped out of the stall, her movements fluid and silent now, born of necessity. She pressed her ear to the door.
Voices.
"I have to go! She's still out there!"
A man's frantic cry echoed in the hallway. Ophelia stiffened. She knew that voice. It was a voice she used to love.
"SHUT THE F#CK UP! YOU'LL ONLY ATTRACT THOSE MONSTERS HERE!" Another voice roared back, harsh and commanding.
Ophelia cracked the door open just a sliver.
Down the hall, two senior boys were holding back a third. It was Lucas. The boy who had promised her the world and then left her for someone else. He looked disheveled, wild-eyed.
"LANA IS OUT THERE ALONE, YOU IDIOT! DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HER AT ALL, HUH?!" Lucas screamed, struggling against the grip of his friends.
"IF LANA'S OUT THERE, SHE'S PROBABLY ALREADY DEAD!" the other boy shouted, losing his patience. He swung a heavy fist, connecting with Lucas's jaw. Lucas crumpled to the floor, silenced. "Get a grip, Lucas! We have to move!"
Ophelia watched from the crack in the door.
Lana.
He was screaming for Lana. Not Ophelia. Never Ophelia. Even at the end of the world, she was an afterthought.
A girl hiding in the adjacent classroom doorway caught Ophelia's eye. The girl whispered to someone behind her, "She's alive... Ophelia is alive."
Ophelia stepped back into the shadows of the restroom, the glimmer of hope sparking in her chest—cold, bitter, and sharp. She was alive. Johanne was gone. Dev was gone. Lucas was crying for another girl.
She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag. Survival wasn't about being strong or brave or loved. It was just about refusing to die.
Ophelia pushed the door open and stepped out into the bloodstained hallway, alone.