The missing of student only stirred up the History Department's Discord group chat for half a day.
By evening, a series of notification emails from the school had quickly smothered the fire:
"The incident is under investigation. Please refrain from spreading unverified information."
"Malicious rumors will be referred to the Office of Academic and Behavioral Standards."
At this university, "serious consequences" usually meant a sit-down meeting, a warning letter, or a notation in your student conduct file—not enough to keep you from graduating, but definitely enough to make you think twice.
...
A few days later, the spotlight shifted to the Orientation Week, the school's big annual event. Early September brought crisp weather, and the main campus was soon flooded with student society booths, pop-up tents, and colorful banners—from the Film Club to the Rock Climbing Team, the Volunteer Alliance to the Travel Club. Free pizza, protein bars, and QR codes for social media giveaways lined the paths in droves.
The History Department kicked things off with a fast-paced, variety-show-style showcase as a warm-up act for the main two-day event. Technically, upperclassmen like Nathan weren't required to help out—but somehow, the guys from Room 440 got roped in anyway. One became a tech volunteer, another was handed a vlog camera, and the rest were stuck hauling equipment.
...
Around noon, Sunny dropped a message in the group chat:
"My girlfriend and her friends are coming to check out Orientation Week. Wish me luck!"
Lucas rolled his eyes:
"What kind of flex is that—your Tai Chi fan routine?"
Nathan chimed in, dead serious:
"It's called cross-disciplinary networking, built on the solid foundation of the History Department."
—Either way, everyone cracked up.
They ate lunch while tossing jokes back and forth, the banter flying nonstop. Outside, freshmen were being led in small groups on campus tours by volunteers.
Near the payment counter, Quinn was chatting effortlessly with a group of new students—looking every bit like the university's official spokesperson.
The daytime events of Orientation Week kept the campus buzzing with energy.
By dusk, the wind picked up. The treetops turned golden, and a few broad leaves floated gently down onto the proud, unmoving pine needles— gold against green, almost too beautiful to be real.
...
After the orientation, Nathan had returned to his usual routine—attending compulsory courses, skipping electives, binge-watching anime, and scrolling endlessly on his phone.
But after a week, he started to feel something was off.
Usually, Lucas was the only studious one in the dorm—always either reading or doing exercises. Sunny spent his time sweet-talking his girlfriend over the phone. And Zeke? Unless he was in class, you barely saw him. He was either dating with freshmen or on the way to date with them.
But lately, Room 440 was packed every day, and aside from Nathan, the other three were all hunched over their desks like hardworking students. Even from behind, you could practically see the word "hardworking" written on their backs.
That afternoon, there were no classes. Nathan napped until evening—a wonderful time of day—only to wake up in a strange and unnerving silence. Not total silence, but 99% quiet with 1% subtle background noise—the occasional page flip, the faint scratch of a pen on paper. Against the stillness, it felt deafening.
As Nathan sat up on the top bunk, the setting sun cast a warm, soft glow through the room. Room 440 was bathed in light, illuminating one confused guy above and three industrious ones below.
In that moment, their hunched silhouettes overlapped perfectly with the image of his ex, and Nathan had the sinking feeling that he had just escaped a tiger's den only to enter a wolf's lair.
"Ahem," Nathan cleared his throat. "Hey, can I interrupt you two for a sec?"
He was technically addressing all three, but Lucas didn't move a muscle, while Sunny and Zeke both looked up enthusiastically.
"What's up?"
"Need something?"
Nathan was relieved. At least they still understood who they were.
"I should be the one asking that! What the hell's gotten into you two? Possessed? Studying like you're aiming for the moon?"
Zeke glanced at Sunny,
Sunny nodded and looked up with a tone of bitter wisdom. "Brother, even last-minute sharpening makes the blade shine."
Nathan could almost see the mock exam papers on Sunny's desk glowing with holy light.
"Okay, but didn't you both already pass the Math 101?" Nathan sounded genuinely heartbroken, but he had to stand his ground. He was the last remaining warrior in Room 440 who still refused to bow to standardized English tests.
The two roommates looked at each other and answered in unison, "Yeah, that's why we're studying for advanced math exam"
Nathan froze. "You guys are taking Advanced-Math 201?
Sunny, didn't you swear you'd never touch an math book again after 101? You barely touch them in required classes! And Zeke, weren't you the one who said everyone should get away from numbers?"
Sunny put down his pen and stared into the distance, eyes full of melancholy. After a moment, his far-off look faded, replaced by a solemn sigh.
"You wouldn't understand. There's a kind of hard work called: 'my girlfriend thinks I should work harder.'"
Nathan gulped and suddenly had the urge to give Sunny a hug.
"What about you?" he turned to Zeke. "You don't even have a girlfriend!"
Zeke tossed his flowing hair and replied with grave intensity, "Bro, you've got less than 2 years left to use your GPA to impress girls. If you don't grind now, you'll regret it forever."
Nathan gulped again. For once, he agreed that wanting to crawl back to sleep made him the true villain here.
"I'm going to get some food. Anyone else need—" He jumped down from the bed, hoping a walk to the cafeteria would calm him down.
Lucas: "No thanks."
Zeke: "I'm full."
Sunny: "I'll go later, might grab snacks on the way."
Ah, the college grind—where even grabbing food became a solo mission. Nathan felt a wave of despair wash over him.
...
"You're early today," the cafeteria staff greeted him with a smile. She recognized him by now. Few dared to try every new cafeteria dish—but Nathan was a brave explorer.
"Yeah, no classes," Nathan replied with a cute, harmless smile. But his full attention was on the food. The red-and-white stir-fry food memories of practicing with his tai chi fan, but even he, a seasoned veteran of strange dishes, wasn't sure what it was.
"what's this one?"
"Watermelon stir-fried with rice cakes."
"…Okay, I'll take a cheese burger and fries please."
Nathan liked adventure, but he wasn't an idiot.
...
By the time they were halfway through his meal, the dining hall had slowly begun to fill up. Still at least thirty minutes from peak hour, so Nathan didn't think much of it and kept eating—until someone sat down across from him.
His first instinct was to frown and tell them there were plenty of empty seats elsewhere, no need to squeeze in here. But the moment he looked up and saw Quinn's face, the words stuck in his throat.
"What a coincidence," Quinn said with a familiar, friendly smile.
Nathan glanced at the red-and-white mess on Quinn's tray and couldn't help asking, "Did you even ask what that was before getting it?"
Quinn didn't miss a beat. "Didn't need to. You can tell just by looking—it's watermelon stir-fried with rice cakes."
Nathan was speechless. Impressed, but speechless.
"Okay, I'm not even gonna ask how you figured that out. But since when did you develop this kind of taste? You used to freak out every time I grabbed a weird combo."
Quinn paused, then lowered his eyes to the food. "Just mixing things up."
Nathan couldn't see his expression clearly, but something in the air between them felt…off. He couldn't pinpoint what, though. Fortunately, that awkward vibe was quickly shattered by the look on Quinn's face after he took a bite.
Nathan fought back a laugh. "Well? Give me your review, brave man."
Quinn spit out the rice cake and, for the first time ever, let out a curse. "Fxxk."
He ended up eating about a third of Nathan's fires instead. It felt… weird. Ex sharing one dish at the same table? Just no. Nathan couldn't take it anymore and went to get himself some kung pao chicken.
...
But as soon as he returned, Quinn's fork darted toward that dish too.
Nathan snapped. "Can you pick one already?!"
Quinn looked up, rice grains stuck to his cheek, utterly innocent. "Can't I have both?"
Nathan was stunned for a moment. "…Guess there's no rule against it."
Quinn grinned again—charm level instantly boosted by the rice on his face.
He quickly looked away and focused on his burger. When Quinn wasn't nitpicking, he was actually pretty great—handsome, unexpectedly soft, almost cute in a way. Back in the day, Nathan had even imagined being the one on top…
No. Stop. Move on.
Then, as if flipping a switch, Quinn dropped his chopsticks. The soft, harmless expression vanished, replaced by the firm tone Nathan knew all too well.
"By the way, you should stay in dorm these days."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "Why do you care?"
Quinn looked like he was trying hard to stay patient. "You heard about the missing student, right? The one who died?"
Nathan blinked. "He died? I thought he just dropped out. There were rumors that couldn't afford tuition."
Quinn was angry. "You lived on the same floor as him and still bought that crap? What's in your head?"
"He's dead. Dismembered, actually. They identified his DNA—only a leg was left."
Nathan frowned. "You talk like you saw it yourself."
"I overheard the department chair talking about it."
Nathan went quiet. Quinn wasn't the type to exaggerate, let alone spread baseless panic. Nathan remembered that photo. Now, staring at his burger and kung pao chicken, he completely lost his appetite.
Unaware of Nathan's internal horror, Quinn continued, "And did you hear what happened outside the nearby University two nights ago? Something's not right in this college town lately. Best to stay inside."
Nathan squinted. "What happened at that school?"
"You didn't see the face-eating video going around?"
Nathan shivered. "Wait, what? Say that again?"
"Face gnawer." Quinn enunciated each word clearly, knowing exactly what kind of reaction it'd trigger.
"It went viral on X. You really missed it?"
Nathan shook his head. With thousands of trending videos daily, it was easy to miss one—even if it turned out to be the important one.
Quinn pulled out his phone and found a still-functioning link to the clip. It was shaky and blurry, like most viral videos. You could just barely make out one figure tackling another, seemingly biting their face off… or possibly kissing, if you ignored the screams.
It only lasted a few seconds before it cut off. The top comment underneath claimed the fFace gnawer had been shot by police. Even more disturbing: the supposed victim got back up and attacked the cops, forcing them to shoot him too. One officer was reportedly sent away by ambulance.
"Is that real?" Nathan pointed at the comment.
Quinn:"No idea."
Nathan kept scrolling. Most people assumed it was drug addict—either the attacker had illusion first and the victim followed suit, or both were on the same bad batch. One person even linked to a similar case overseas where a overdose guy ate a homeless man's face.
But a whole subset of users insisted this was straight out of a zombie movie: "No way a bitten person gets back up unless they're infected!"
Some added links to supposedly leaked clips showing "zombie-like" incidents all over the country—shaky and inhumanity people biting others in daylight.
Nathan didn't buy the conspiracy. He believed in science.
Still, two events happened at the same time? Coincidence?
A bit too close to school. The other University was right next to their campus. The idea that something like this had happened just down the road made Nathan's scalp tingle.
He and Quinn dropped off their trays with no more conversation and quickly left the dining hall.