The office was quiet — the kind of quiet that hums, heavy and alive.
Flickering light bulbs buzzed above, casting faint, twitching shadows across the walls.
Marco sat behind his desk, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.
Smoke drifted lazily, coiling in the stale air as he flipped open the folder in front of him.
He scanned the page once… and smirked.
Target: Edenridge College.
Primary Objective: Terminate the principal.
Secondary Objective: Destroy the college's reputation.
A low chuckle slipped from his throat.
"Been a while," he murmured, eyes glinting under the dim light. "Haven't received a bounty this big in a long time."
He leaned back, tapping ash into the tray. "Guess the world still loves paying for chaos."
He took a drag, exhaled slow, then pressed the intercom button.
A faint buzz.
Moments later, the door opened, and one of his men stepped in — an old enforcer, muscles and scars carved from years of work.
Marco didn't bother looking up.
"Gather the team Vennrik," he said, voice low but commanding.
"Same style as before?" Vennrik asked.
Marco finally looked up, his smirk widening.
"You're learning." He slid the folder across the table. "Keep it clean. Keep it fast. Don't make me repeat that."
Vennrik nodded, eyes scanning the target photo. "Understood."
The door shut behind him.
Marco sat there, letting the silence return — only the soft hiss of his cigarette breaking it.
Then, to no one in particular, he whispered:
"Let's see how loud silence can get."
Afternoon.
The college stood bright and peaceful — until the men arrived.
Each one had their role, their path, their orders.
At the gate, a guard stepped forward.
"Hey! You can't just—"
Slash.
The sound was too quick to process.
The guard's body dropped ,blood sprayed the pavement, the body collapsing without a word.
Another guard turned, panic flashing across his face as he reached for the alarm.
Bang!
A single bullet cut through the air. His head snapped back, crimson misting the wall behind him.
"Move," Vennrik commanded. "No noise. No witnesses."
The group split, moving like shadows — some scaling the walls, others slipping through corridors.
Their first goal was clear: kill every guard.
Every guard in their path fell. Every scream was silenced before it began.
A voice came through Marco's radio.
"Boss, we've entered. No sign of the principal yet."
Marco's voice came calm, steady.
"Find him. Don't waste time."
They searched the halls.
Students peeked from classrooms, whispering.
"Who are those guys?"
"Is this a drill?"
No answer came. Only the sound of boots and faint gun clicks.
At the main building, they kicked open the principal's office door — empty.
"Sir, the principal isn't here," Vennrik said into the radio.
Silence.
Then Marco replied, slow and cold:
"Then make him come to you."
Vennrik frowned. "How?"
Marco smirked, voice turning sharp as glass.
"Noise."
Vennrik grinned.
"As the boss said," one laughed darkly. "Time to make it loud."
Crash.
Windows shattered.
Bang. Bang.
Doors burst open.
Fire alarms screamed.
The world tilted.
Chaos swallowed the halls whole.
Students screamed, tripping over desks and bags. Some ran; some froze. The air reeked of gunpowder and fear.
A girl ran toward a guard sitting at his desk, head down.
"Hey! Why are you sitting here? There are people—"
She touched his shoulder.
The body slipped from the chair, falling to the ground.
Blood smeared the floor beneath him.
Her scream tore through the corridor, raw and jagged — the sound of a world breaking.
"Boss," a voice came through the radio, breathless, half-laughing. "Still no sign of the principal!"
Marco let the smoke curl past his grin like a curtain. His eyes went slow and dangerous.
"Fine," he said, each word careful and soft. "Make the place unbearable. Leave no corner to hide in. Turn the whole campus into a nightmare he can't bear to face."
There was a pause on the line, the kind that drank in the meaning.
"Enjoy yourselves," Marco added, voice flat as ice. "Make sure everything they thought was safe screams otherwise."
Vennrik on the radio laughed, darker this time. "Copy that, boss."
Marco flicked the cigarette, watching the ember die. His reflection in the smoke looked like a ghost smiling back.
"Let's see," he murmured, "how much noise it takes before the whole place burns."
The silence of the campus shattered—
Gunfire cracked through the air.
Screams followed.
A flood of chaos burst across.
Students scattered like birds startled mid-flight.
The ground was painted red—
Bodies falling, glass shattering, alarms wailing in symphony with the madness.
Vennrik and his men showed no hesitation, no remorse. Each trigger pull was mechanical, every scream drowned by another burst of bullets.
"Don't let anyone out!" one of them shouted over the roar. "Boss said make it a nightmare they can't wake up from!"
A student crawled across the floor, leaving a trail of blood. Another tried to drag her away—.
Noel and his group were still on the other side of the west wing.
The first echo of gunfire froze them in place.
"What… what was that?" Nyra stammered, clutching Damian's arm.
Then came another—closer. A window shattered beside them.
"Gunshots! Run!" Ryan shouted, voice sharp as a blade.
They sprinted down the hall, breath loud, footsteps echoing over distant screams.
Damian clenched his jaw. "There's shooting in the west block too!"
Ryan's eyes darted around, sharp, scanning. "Stay low. Stay behind me."
They turned the corner — and stopped.
And froze.
A man knelt by a body.
A student — a girl — motionless.
He held her by the hair, slicing across her throat with a dagger, watching the blood spill like he was admiring it.
Then he looked up.
And smiled.
Sasha screamed — pure, shattering fear.
The man dropped the body, eyes wild, and sprinted toward them, dagger raised.
Noel's mind blanked.
Feet locked. Breath gone.
Everything slowed.
The man's steps echoed like thunder.
"W–what's happening!?" Sasha cried, clutching Nyra's sleeve as they ran.
Her voice cracked between sobs.
Ryan gritted his teeth. "It's an attack! Just move!"
Noel's heart stuttered. His mind screamed move, but his legs locked.
The man's boots thundered closer.
The dagger flashed.
Nyra gasped.
Ryan raised his arm but too slow—
And Eira stepped forward.
Her hand caught the dagger mid-swing. Metal screeched against skin. Blood ran down her wrist — but her expression didn't flinch.
The man snarled. "You—!"
Eira's eyes sharpened, calm and terrifyingly focused.
Her other hand moved — too fast to see.
A crack rang out.
Her palm drove upward, connecting with the man's chin so hard his entire body lifted for a heartbeat ,Her strike hit with surgical precision. His eyes rolled back—
He froze, body stiff—then crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
The dagger clattered beside him.
Silence.
Only the fire alarm's hollow scream filled the space.
Damian stared, shaking. "H-he was going to—"
Eira's tone was cold. "We don't have time. There'll be more."
The others followed, shaken, running past the fallen man.
Outside, the sounds of slaughter grew louder. Smoke was creeping through the windows, and flames licked the corners of the west hall.
Noel looked back once, seeing the bodies—students, guards—sprawled across the courtyard.
His throat felt dry, his hands trembling.
He whispered, barely audible:
"Why… why is this happening?"
Noel, still shaken, nodded and urged the others forward.
The halls were filled with screams and the sharp echo of gunfire. Somewhere down the corridor, someone was crying for help — and then silence followed. Every sound made Sasha flinch, her hands clutching her bag like a shield.
They moved quickly, ducking low, searching for anywhere safe — a locked door, a storage room, anything.
Then—
"HEY! WHO'S THERE!?"
A man's voice rang out behind them — one of the attackers.
He stood at the far end of the hall, gun already raised, eyes locked on them.
Everything froze.
Sasha gasped, Nyra's legs nearly gave out, Damian's voice broke into a strangled sound.
Noel reacted first, grabbing Sasha and yanking her behind a corner, pulling Nyra and Damian with him. "Move!" he hissed.
Ryan turned too late — saw the gun aimed at them —
WHISH!
Eira's arm moved faster than thought. The dagger she had picked up flew straight ahead, slicing the air cleanly before thunking deep into the man's forehead.
His body convulsed, then crumpled to the ground.
The gun slipped from his hands, clattering onto the floor.
The hallway went dead silent.
Only the faint hum of lights and distant footsteps filled the air.
She crouched, pulled the dagger free from the man's head, wiped it clean against his sleeve, and picked up the fallen gun. Checking the mag, she secured it at her side.
At last, they spotted a small, almost hidden room. Its door was plain, blending with the walls, but it promised a fleeting sanctuary. They slipped inside one by one, hearts hammering, and the lock clicked shut behind them—a fragile barrier against the chaos outside.
Sasha's breathing broke apart, tears spilling as she trembled uncontrollably.
Nyra pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle her sobs.
Damian leaned against the wall, pale as chalk. "A-are we… gonna die?" he whispered.
Noel looked at them, heart pounding, trying to process everything. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Ryan took a breath, forcing calm into his shaking voice. "No," he said. "We'll be fine. We just… need to stay quiet. Trust Eira."
"You all stay here," Eira said coldly. "Don't move until I get back."
Sasha reached out, voice trembling. "W-wait! Its dangerous You can't just go—"
"I said I'll be fine!" Eira snapped, her tone sharp as a blade. "Just… don't make a sound. Not a damn one."
The words hit like a slap — and then silence.
Eira turned, her boots echoing softly as she disappeared down the corridor.
Noel stared after her, eyes wide — that wasn't the same calm classmate he knew. Her movements, her voice, everything about her felt… different.
"…Who is she really?" he whispered.
No one answered.
Only the distant sound of gunfire and heavy footsteps filled the empty hallway —
as Eira vanished into the unknown.