The leaves rustled with unnatural speed, and heavy footsteps slammed the ground, a desperate rhythm accompanied by labored, gasping breath.
From a soaring vantage point, a cruel scene unfolded: a grey blur was relentlessly hunting a teen with short brown hair through the thick, moonless forest.
Exhausted, the boy dove behind a tree whose massive trunk offered a sliver of hope. He managed just three panicked inhalations before he sighted them—vicious, glowing yellow eyes fixed on his hiding place.
"What do you want?!" the boy screamed, his voice shredded by terror.
The boy was quick to grab a broken twig from the cruel forest floor, pointing its jagged, sharp edge towards the blur.
Unfazed, the grey blur moved, treading slowly, each step heavy with predatory intent. Its vicious eyes flared, glowing brighter with anticipation. Each deliberate sound of its approach made the boy's chest pound, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs.
Suddenly, the blur gathered itself—a coil of muscle, and leapt with full force towards the boy, then...
"James! James! Wake up!" a soft voice called, laced with sudden panic.
*Gasps*
The boy jolted awake, a huge, ragged gasp tearing from his throat. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his forehead, tracing paths through his brown hair.
"What happened? Another one? Talk to me!" The soft voice spoke again, now high-pitched with palpable concern.
"I'm fine, Mom. It was just a silly dream," James lied, his voice hoarse.
"I don't think so. A dream? Or a nightmare?" the soft voice, belonging to James's mother, Serena Craig, challenged him. "Sweat is clearly visible on your forehead, James."
"I'm fine. It's nothing to worry about," James insisted, forcing a nervous, unconvincing smile.
Now, James Craig was the teen who had woken from the nightmare—the one where something relentlessly pursued him.
"Let's go, the principal is reviewing your test results," Serena said, pulling her son's arm away from the weathered wooden bench he slumped on.
The bench rested against the wall of a hallway that should have been chaotic with school noise, but was instead as silent as a graveyard.
As the mother and son walked down the long hall, Serena pressed him. "You won't talk about it, huh?"
'How long?' James's thoughts churned, drowning out his mother's voice. 'How long have I been having this consistent nightmare? The annoying part is I don't even know what is chasing me. All I see is a grey blur, and the fu**ing dream ends the same way, every time.'
"James! I'm talking to you!" Serena snapped him out of his inner turmoil.
"I'm sorry... look, we're here," James muttered, pointing ahead to a crimson door bearing the bold inscription.
"The Principal's Office," James muttered to himself.
A few knocks later, the door swung open, revealing a bald man with oversized glasses precariously sliding down his nose and a gruff white beard.
"I must say, young man, you got quite the impressive result here, and you got the looks to back it up," Principal Williams Jones giggled, before continuing with professional enthusiasm. "Brains like yours are always welcome. James, is it? You're welcome to Braxton High."
"Thank you so much, sir. We're also sorry for coming on short notice, but school is about to resume, and we didn't want to miss the registration," Serena said, her face alight with elation as she reached out to shake the principal's hand.
James, in contrast, seemed utterly unfazed. He knew he'd pass the test; for him, it had been a walk in the park. James Craig had always possessed a searing intelligence, a frighteningly fast learner who had been a force to reckon with back at Middleton High.
His fame hadn't just come from his mind, either; physically, he was outstanding. His facial look was flawless, your typical modern model.
Yet, good things don't last. An infamous incident had caused his star to plummet, giving his rivals the opportunity they needed to turn into vicious bullies.
In truth, the high school drama hadn't worried James. It wasn't the bullying that changed his life, but the tuition fee that skyrocketed, forcing his single mother, Mrs. Serena, to pull him out.
After being briefed on the rules and formalities, Serena and James left the quiet school and boarded a taxi home.
"Well, I guess this is my life now. New enemies, new rules, and probably new jesters," James broke the heavy silence of the cab.
"Come on, James, you have to be positive. We have no choice, and I'm sure no one will mock you. It's all for good, son. Let's not ignore the fact Braxton is also a big school," Serena replied, though her gaze drifted to her son's troubled face.
James heaved a profound sigh and tucked his head into his arms, sinking back into the consuming dread of his constant nightmares.
Serena, meanwhile, was lost in her own history, counting the years she had spent catering to James and his sister, Jessica Craig, who was five years his junior. Jessica had recently graduated elementary school and now attended Cradenville High, whose fees were a crushing fraction of James's former school.
"Ma'am, we've reached the destination," the taxi driver called out.
"Right, here's your money," Serena said, hastily pulling the cash from her bag.
She was about to alight when she noticed James. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows were twitching violently, and fresh beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead.
'He must be having that nightmare again,' Serena thought, her worry deepening into a cold pit of fear.
"Is he gonna get down or what?!" the annoyed driver barked.
"I'm sorry, he's just a kid," Serena apologized, grabbing James's arm and forcefully hauling him out of the taxi.
The car zoomed off instantly, and James stumbled, struggling to plant his feet on the ground as his eyes fluttered open in a daze.
Serena cursed the man's callousness inwardly before turning her full attention and anger on her son.
"We have some talking to do, young man!"
The mother and son were walking down the walkway towards their house when James saw a man in an elegant suit approach them.
As the man passed, James caught his eyes—and saw a faint, unsettling yellow glow emanating from within.
"What the..."
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