Jamie fought back the urge to vomit, leaning her body backward, but that bandaged hand — and the dead rat — followed her relentlessly.
Alma's two small arms, wrapped in layers of gauze, looked unnaturally thick. Even through the bandages, Jamie could almost see the pulse beating beneath her skin.
"Alma…?" Jamie's face turned pale. "You… what's happened to you?"
Alma stared at her, the smile on her face slowly freezing. She let out a soft, puzzled sigh before lowering her head — half her face sinking into shadow.
"Weren't you the one who said you wanted to eat?"
In that instant, Jamie sensed the faint smell of death. While Alma was still mumbling to herself, Jamie had already sprung to her feet, bolting toward the door.
"Mar—"
She barely got out one syllable before something foul and fleshy was shoved into her mouth. Two powerful arms came from behind, locking around her neck and face.
Jamie's feet kicked helplessly as she was lifted off the ground, completely trapped in Alma's grip. The old woman's body was burning hot — and impossibly strong.
"Eat, eat… my Jamie, my sweet child…"
Rotten juices seeped into Jamie's mouth. Her vision began to blur and fade to a sickly blue. The lack of oxygen made her dizzy, her limbs going limp. That earlier sense of looming death now came crashing down like a heavy curtain — thick and suffocating.
Just as her consciousness began to fade, Jamie suddenly changed her movement — instead of struggling, she sank her teeth hard into Alma's hand and the decaying rat.
Her sharp fangs pierced through the bandages, straight into the old woman's arm. Alma let out a scream, jerking her bitten hand upward and swinging Jamie half a circle before hurling her against the wardrobe by the wall.
With a heavy crash, Jamie hit the ground. Behind her, the wardrobe door burst open from the impact — and before she could stand, a naked body fell out. It was Frasanne.
Jamie instinctively caught her fallen friend. Frasanne's skin was cold — she had been dead for quite some time. Two lines of tiny needle marks ran along her back, and from them sprouted a pair of black raven's wings, stitched crudely into her flesh.
"She was a little demon," Alma said with a cheerful grin, pointing at Frasanne's corpse. "Look… she even has the demon's black feathers."
Jamie trembled as she looked up. Alma — once gentle and kind — now advanced toward her step by step. But more horrifying than the twisted smile was the sight of Alma's exposed arm: the torn bandages revealed skin the bright red of a lobster shell.
The Fusion Disease.
Jamie finally understood. The woman before her was no longer the kind, beloved headmistress she once knew — but a mindless monster, her body consumed by the Fusion infection.
But it was too late.
Alma seized her again, this time wrapping both arms around Jamie's neck in a crushing hold.
"Bad child," the old woman said coldly. "You've learned to lie now?"
Tears streamed down Jamie's face as that terrifying pressure returned. Her fingers clawed at Alma's arms, but no matter how hard she pulled, nothing loosened — only more of the bandages came away, exposing the raw red skin beneath.
Then — thud! — a heavy impact struck.
The hands strangling her neck finally slackened.
Jamie fell heavily to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath.
When she lifted her head again, she saw Sister Marcia had somehow burst into the room. The nun held a wooden stool in both hands — its corner was stained with blood from the back of Alma's head.
Marcia stood pale and trembling, her arms shaking uncontrollably from sheer horror.
"Miss Marcia—" Jamie tried to explain what had happened, but the nun's brows shot up sharply. She shouted, cutting her off before she could speak.
"Run, Jamie!!"
The reeking stench, the scattered squirrel carcasses, Frasanne's lifeless body, Alma — who had just tried to strangle Jamie — and those bright red, lobster-like arms…
All of it, without a single word, told Sister Marcia everything she needed to know.
The nun swung the stool wildly, trying to draw Alma's attention in the narrow corridor.
"Run! Run, Jamie! Call the police!"
In the grip of terror, Jamie felt her limbs nearly give out. She stumbled to her feet, half-crawling, half-running — but the path to the front door was blocked by Alma and Marcia. There was no way through…
But the southern window was still open!
Jamie leapt onto the headmistress's desk. Just as she pushed her body halfway out the window, a sharp pain shot through her right ankle.
Alma had smashed the stool apart with her bare hands, and from somewhere produced a knife. Her fused, claw-like fingers gripped the hilt and stabbed straight into Jamie's ankle.
Jamie let out a muffled cry of agony.
Marcia, who had been knocked to the ground, screamed and lunged at Alma, wrapping her arms around the monster's waist — but her strength was no match. Even clinging desperately, she couldn't pull Alma away from the desk.
As Alma raised her knife again, time seemed to slow for Jamie. The air between them felt thick, as though filled with invisible gel, slowing every motion.
But terror froze her — she couldn't move. She could only watch as Alma's blade sliced halfway through Marcia's right hand. The severed flesh and bone were vividly clear, blood spurting across the room. The knife clattered to the floor nearby.
The creature let out a furious shriek and snatched a steel pen from a nearby holder, plunging it into Marcia's right shoulder.
"Marcia!"
The nun screamed, collapsing against the desk. Blood poured from her mouth, her eyes red with burst veins, forehead tight with pain.
"Go…" she gasped.
Summoning the last of her strength, Marcia pushed the dazed Jamie out through the window.
A second later, the window slammed shut. The soft light reflecting off the glass turned crimson — sprayed with blood.
---
Current Known Information:
"Fusion Fungus," "Fusion Disease," and "Fused Beings"
Fusion Disease is caused by a parasitic microorganism known as the Fusion Fungus.
After infection, there is a 1–2 month incubation period.
During the early stage, patients experience prolonged depression, loss of appetite, insomnia or hypersomnia, and extreme fatigue.
If detected and treated during this stage, the disease can be cured through complex biological therapies that eliminate the spores entirely.
Once the active stage begins, however, there is no cure.
The infected transform into what are called Criminals — their speed and strength increase dramatically, and their methods of violence are influenced by their former profession, personality, and life experiences.
After onset, they can remain active for about 1–2 weeks before dying rapidly of hemorrhagic fever.
Though they still appear human, these patients are no longer truly themselves — they are puppets.
Such extremely dangerous beings are universally referred to as Fused Beings.
(End of Chapter)