[Emergency Civil Defense Broadcast – Standby Override]
> "...This is the Emergency Civil Defense Network. Repeat: this is not a test."
Our blood froze.
> "A new pathogen that were researching by a government lab, unofficially dubbed the Crawler Plague, is spreading across multiple sectors at an alarming rate by the cause of solar flare."
> "Symptoms observe, begin within hours of exposure: fever, convulsions, and extreme joint dislocation... followed by severe neurological distortion. Infected individuals become highly aggressive and exhibit unnatural locomotion crawling or twisting toward uninfected targets."
Someone gasped behind me. Another teacher was pale and trembling and began to mutter a prayer under his breath.
> "Do not attempt to aid anyone or restrain infected persons. Avoid all contact as possible. They are no longer humans."
The broadcast crackled violently. The words blurred into static.
Students froze behind me. They're heads turned slowly toward the open windows.
Then sudden scream can be heard outside. An unnatural shriek ripping through the air.
[Static intensifies. A low growl or distant scream can be faintly heard in the background.]
"...If you are receiving this message, shelter in a safe place. Barricade all entrances. Destroy bridges or tunnels if possible to cut their route of exposure in other areas. We repeat—containment has failed. This is a full biological threat classification Omega."
"...May God help us all."
[Transmission cuts to static.]
The datapad went dark. Ugh, seriously? Now the lights went out too.
Just for a split second, it was quiet—totally eerie. Then, chaos unleashed like it was waiting in the wings.
Screams blared outside the council tower. I could hear hurried footsteps racing down the hallway like they were in a crazy contest.
"Stay calm!" one voice shouted, but then someone else was yelling something about lockdown protocols. Pfft, as if anyone was paying attention with all the panic swirling around.
Our teachers herded us into the old Student Council room, you know—the one in the central tower that's supposed to be the safest spot around here. It had one of those analog lock systems with its own fancy filtration, and the walls were surprisingly reinforced. Not that I was checking the construction details or anything!
I felt like my own breathing turned into this weird, ragged thing—totally not cool. I pressed myself against the back wall, my heart pounding like it wanted to break free from my ribs. It was a struggle to stay collected.
Whatever was going on… this wasn't just some ordinary disaster anymore. It felt way worse.
Mrs. Yamamoto, our chemistry teacher, had her hands tightly clasped in a silent prayer, her mascara running down her cheeks. It was a disaster!
Mr. Ishikawa attempted to calm us, saying, "Please guys, remain calm," but his voice wavered on the opening word, and his trembling hands sent his tablet clattering to the floor. Yet no one so much as glanced at it.
I opened my mouth to take charge, to issue commands and restore the composure I had always prided myself on. But as my blood chilled, a horrific sound shattered the hallway before I could utter a word.
A scream tore through the silence.
Even from a distance, it pierced through the walls like a knife. The scream was like a voice twisted into something barely recognizable as human.
Every student in the council room went stiff. No one dared to take a breath. Every gaze whipped toward those heavy double doors.
Then another scream echoed. And another.
The voices of boys and girls intertwined in chaos, some throaty and low, others sharp and high. Names were called out, one after the other, while others merely screamed, pleading for help, hoping someone would hear them.
Then footsteps echoed from outside our door.
At first, it was just one person, sprinting down the hallway as though their life depended on it. The sound of their shoes striking the tiles was clear, each step slicing through the tension.
But the rhythm of their footsteps was all wrong. It was as if they could barely control their body, stumbling and dragging their feet, careening around corners.
Then—WHAM! A body collided with the wall just outside our door with a sickening force. The sound of a choked gasp followed.
It was the frantic, uncontrolled rush of someone racing to our doors, their survival hinging on making it here.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Someone was pounding on the entrance, fists battering the reinforced steel with desperate urgency. "HELP! PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP US! OH GOD, PLEASE!"
The voice belonged to a young student, perhaps a first-year.
I finally found my voice, cold and steady as always. "Everyone stay calm. Don't—"
Then the screams outside morphed into something horrific. What began as human cries contorted into an unrecognizable sound... so wrong that my mind struggled to comprehend it. Every hair on my neck stood on end. The voice warped into a wet, animalistic thing, twisting and writhing. It felt as if someone was choking on their own blood, drowning while being torn apart in agonizing pain.
The pounding ceased, as did the screams.
"We need to help them," Aoi whispered beside me, her sweet innocence glaring in the face of this horror. Aoi Fujita, my junior council member, who clung to dreams of fairy tales and happy endings, who spent weekends volunteering at the animal shelter, crying for injured birds.
"No," I urged, though my voice lacked its customary edge. "We must wait for—"
A flicker of movement caught my eye across the hallway. Through the narrow glass panel in the door, we caught sight of the security office. Its reinforced windows held no sign of life.
We were entirely alone.
Aoi stood, her expression pale yet resolute. "There might be survivors. We can't just—"
"SIT DOWN!" I snapped, finally losing my composure. "You will not move until I—"
Once more, a sound echoed outside. It was the noise of something—or someone—heavily dragged across the concrete.
The dragging halted abruptly right outside our doors. Then came the knocking.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Like someone with broken fingers desperately signaling for help.
"Pl...ease," a voice croaked through the steel. The words were undeniably human, but the throat producing them was anything but natural—a voice muffled by blood and shattered glass. "H..elp... m..e... ple..ase..."
Aoi's face crumpled with compassion. "They're hurt. We have to—"