I remember the day everything went to shit.
The power cut out abruptly. A tremor ran through the building as if something had crashed into the sky.
["What is that?"] —someone shouted from the back of the classroom.
We ran to the windows and… The sky was different.
High up, beyond the clouds, a gigantic planet, chillingly similar to Earth, hung above us.
And to make matters worse, enormous columns of light fell as if connecting both worlds, and around them, debris and cars floated, sucked upwards.
["N-no, what is…?"]
["Are you fucking kidding me…?"]
["E-e-e… kyaaaaaa."]
The murmuring soon turned to panic. Some teachers called for calm, trying to maintain their authority with shouts that were no longer commands, but pleas.
(What bad luck,) I thought.
Of all days, the seniors came in today for review sessions.
If only I had repeated last year, or if I had ignored my future, I would be in my bed like the rest of the school.
Instead, apparently, I'm trapped at the end of the world, alongside a group of teachers and fellow seniors.
["Stay calm!"] —said the math teacher with apparent composure, entering the classroom with other teachers. But the trembling in his hands stripped him of all conviction.
Either way, was calm even possible in this situation?
A group of teenagers in the middle of the end of the world, with no phone service or internet, is not exactly a situation conducive to tranquility.
And then, as if my sarcasm had been punished:
"AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
Our new normal was announced to us with chilling clarity.
...........
The first howls came from the courtyard.
Long, broken, like deformed human wails.
The ideas of seeking help died as soon as we heard the claws scraping on the ground. The math teacher tried to close the building's door, but a shadow leaped on him.
I remember the blood: a thick spray that stained the white walls. The scream that died before it could finish… But above all, I remember how no one moved.
Paralyzed before the unreal reality, before the blood, before the screams, before death… Even breathing was instantly forgotten.
After that… Chaos.
......…..
Teachers pushing desks, students stumbling, someone vomiting on the floor.
A pack of enormous dogs, with glowing eyes and disfigured jaws, was entering the building and advancing down the hall.
And the carnage began.
The damn animals were relentless, like hungry cats hunting helpless mice.
The first to fall were the paralyzed ones.
Allowing your legs to give way when a pack of mutant dogs is attacking you is not the best thing you can do.
They were quickly surrounded, torn apart, eaten alive amidst screams and cries.
I saw a girl from my history class, I think her name was Sofia, trip and fall. One of the dogs, a mass of muscle and dirty fur, simply stepped on her as it passed, without stopping. The sound of her bones was a wet crunch I'll never forget.
The teachers were the next to die: one after another, they tried to protect their students with all their strength, but they didn't stand a chance.
One teacher tried to protect a group with a chair, only to be dragged by two of the beasts into the darkness of the hallway.
A female teacher used her body as a shield, only to be eaten alive along with those students.
As a teenager, I admired their courage.
As a person, I thought they didn't have their priorities straight.
As a student, I couldn't help but recognize them as role models.
But regardless of all that, in a matter of seconds, despair became our new normal.
.....
I don't know how, but between the pushing and crying, we dragged desks and cabinets to block the stairs, creating a safe zone on the third floor.
At that moment, the detail of being trapped didn't matter to anyone. The only thing that mattered was that we were still alive.
Below, the dogs slammed against the barricade with fury. Each charge made the wood groan, the crunching sound drilling into our ears and squeezing our hearts.
No one spoke.
The howls, mixed with the creaking of the wood, unconsciously drained the air from our lungs.
Fear seemed to have its own smell: sour sweat, urine, and dried blood.
------------
Days passed. With no power, no communication, no certainty of being rescued, we just clung to a useless hope that faltered with every sunset, as time slowly became a cruel joke.
The water and food began to run out with alarming speed.
Soon the arguments came: rations, turns, who had the right to what.
The desperation was visible: some would break down crying over nothing, others would remain silent for hours, staring into space.
Every day, the precarious situation was a psychological war that we were slowly losing.
Hunger slowly became a dull ache in the stomach.
Arguments over a sip of water became silent and filled with hatred.
Some began to lick the condensation from the windows.
And others tried to chew even the dirt from their shoes.
Every night, some of the dogs—perhaps the sentinels of the pack—would howl. As if they were amusing themselves by tormenting us to kill time.
Most tried to sleep with their ears covered.
Not me. I listened, because not knowing if they were still there was worse.
---------
Finally, after several days, the power came back on, and even the school's Wi-Fi activated, though with a weak signal.
At first, it was a spark of hope.
But how ironic: the higher you climb, the more painful the fall.
Because what we saw on those screens—social media, videos—far from encouraging us, plunged us deeper into despair.
I think it was on the 5th or 6th day.
Hunger had become part of the air.
The rations, already scarce and unable to fully satisfy, had run out the day before.
Then, that voice.
[Rat Kid 1 to Rat Kid 5, respond, Rat Kid 5.]
Raspy, vulgar, insolent.
So damn indifferent you wanted to punch him.
[Asshole, answer this piece of crap once and for all.]
We looked at each other, confused. The voice was coming from the adjoining classroom.
It was someone who spoke of those monsters as if they were chihuahuas. Someone who insulted non-stop, who laughed at our misery, who didn't fit with anything we expected.
And yet… we clung to him. To every insult, to every taunt, because for the first time in days, we weren't alone.
He was a ray of hope.
An unpleasant one, annoying as the midday sun.
But hope, nonetheless.
That day I understood something: sometimes, in the deepest darkness, the only light you find isn't that of a lighthouse, but the glow of a distant fire. It's chaotic, it's dangerous… It's a bastard who laughs in your face while the world falls to pieces.
[Move or die, you sons of bitches.]
That day, I met Astrad.