The library was stifling. It wasn't just the lack of AC in the Westview high school wing; it was the heavy, stagnant air that seemed to cling to the back of Leo's throat. They were supposed to be grinding through AP Psychology notes for the next day. Instead, they sat in the library without even bothering to open their books.
Krystian was hunched over his laptop, his face glowing a ghostly blue. His mouse clicked with a frantic rhythm that filled the silence. He was playing some Korean rhythm game, his fingers dancing across the keys with a precision that Leo usually admired. Today, however, the clicking sounded loud and annoying.
Leo sat across from him, his textbook open to a jumbled mix of words, but his eyes were locked on his phone. He was scrolling through a local forum, his thumb pausing on a grainy video from the city centre.
"Hear about that flu in the city?" Jay asked. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on two legs, a habit that usually got him a lecture from the librarian. "My dad called me during the break. Said they might quarantine the mall."
Krystian didn't even blink. "City drama, man. It's probably just some massive marketing stunt for a movie or something. Honestly? I'd fake a lung infection for three days off school. Imagine the rank-up I could get in this game by that time."
"It's not just a cough, K," Leo said, finally looking up. The blue light from his screen made his dark eyes look hollow. "I heard it makes people get confused. lose coordination "
Jay let out a short, dry laugh, spinning a pencil between his fingers. "Sounds like me every Monday morning. Maybe I'm Patient Zero."
Leo tried to join in on the joke, but his gaze drifted toward the front desk. Mrs. Gable, the librarian who usually barked at them for breathing too loudly, was sitting perfectly still. Her head was tilted at a sharp, uncomfortable angle, staring at a stack of returned books. She wasn't moving, but her fingers were twitching against the mahogany desk, a tiny, rapid tap-tap-tap that didn't match any song Leo knew.
The bell rang.
It was a shrill, drilling noise that felt heavier than usual, vibrating through the floorboards and into the soles of Leo's sneakers. He winced, rubbing his ears as the sound dragged on for an extra three seconds.
"God, someone needs to fix the wiring in this dump," Krystian muttered, slamming his laptop shut with a sharp clack.
Leo felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. He regretted staying up and made a mental note never give into them. On the other hand, he was glad that school was over. He had gotten a message from his dad that the venue for Layla's birthday party was set up. Tommorow would be the big day and everything was going perfectly. He had to attend her party and go for the match on the same day but he was willing to do anything for his sister.
The hallway was a sea of students and the smell of floor wax. But beneath the chemical scent, Leo caught a whiff of something else. It was sickly sweet, like a bowl of fruit left to rot in the sun, or a perfume that was trying too hard to hide something foul.
As they passed the Biology lab, they saw a girl from the junior varsity team, someone Leo recognized from the sports rallies, leaning heavily against a row of lockers. Her friend was patting her shoulder, looking panicked. The girl wasn't crying, though. She was shivering. It was a tremor that made her school ID badge rattle against her chest.
"Rough day," Jay joked, nodding toward her as they walked past.
Leo didn't feel like laughing. He saw the girl's hand as it gripped the locker handle. Her skin was a strange, chalky grey, and the veins running toward her knuckles were dark; almost black standing out like ink beneath paper.
They finally reached their lockers outside the English class, a daily tradition where they met up to drop off books and pretend they weren't exhausted.
"Sorry guys, no practice for me today. I have an 'important' party to attend" Krystian sighed, pulling a dry biscuit from his bag.
Jay rolled his eyes, dropping his bag with a heavy thud. "No way, man! We have the match on Friday. We need to focus. Also... why the biscuit? Are you turning British on us or something?"
Krystian snapped the biscuit in half, a puff of dry crumbs hitting his navy-blue sweater. "Are you turning stupid on us or something? I found it in the back of my locker and I'm starving. My head feels like it's in a vice, Jay. Leave me alone."
Leo watched them bicker with a small, tired smile. It was a familiar, comforting sound, After years of friendship this was a normal occurrence. For a second, the world felt normal again. But the comfort didn't last. It vanished the moment the heavy door of the Nurse's office flew open.
The sound wasn't a knock; it was an explosion.
Mrs. Angelo, the school nurse who usually spent her days handing out paracetamol and band-aids, scrambled out into the hallway. Her face wasn't just pale; it was a mask of pure, white-knuckled panic. Her hair was dishevelled, and her breath came in jagged, wet gasps that echoed off the lockers. The hallway, usually a roar of student chatter, went deathly silent.
She ran with a desperate, stumbling gait, her orthopedic shoes squeaking against the linoleum. She didn't look back. She didn't call for help. She just ran until she collided with a student carrying a stack of fliers, sending paper flying through the air like snow.
That's when they saw what was chasing her.
It wasn't a 'what.' It was a 'who'.
It was Sarah, a girl from Leo's pre-calc class. She was usually quiet, the kind of student who sat in the front row and took notes in neon highlighters. But the girl standing in the doorway didn't look like Sarah anymore. Her spine was arched at an unnatural angle, and her face was twisted into a snarl of primal, mindless rage. Her eyes weren't just bloodshot; they were a solid, angry crimson, the pupils dilated until they were almost gone.
She didn't stop to talk. She didn't scream a warning. She launched herself at Mrs. Angelo with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a teenage girl.
The crowd of students watched, paralyzed by the sheer wrongness of it. Leo felt his heart hammer against his ribs, a cold sweat breaking out across his neck. He wanted to move, to shout, to do something, but his shoes felt like they were nailed to the floor.
Sarah tackled the nurse, the two of them hitting the ground with a sickening thump. In the struggle, Sarah's hand shot out, glass shattering as she reached into a nearby display case. She didn't care about the shards cutting her skin; she snatched a heavy, polished brass trophy, the one from the 2022 regional finals, and brought it down with both hands.
The sound of metal meeting bone was a dull, wet crack that echoed through the hallway.
Again. And again.
The world shattered.
For a minute total silence took over the hallway. Noting but the sound of metal meeting flesh could be heard. But Sarah suddenly looked up from what she was doing. The student who was holding the fliers was being helped up by a classmate. Sarah leaped up from the lifless body of Mrs Angelo and ran towards the student.
All hell broke loose. Students began to trample one another, a frantic, mindless stampede to get away from the red spray painting the lockers.
A hand gripped the shoulder of Leo's jacket, yanking him backward just as a spray of glass hit the locker next to his head. It was Jay, his face twisted in terror, his knuckles white as he pulled Leo away from the carnage.
Leo's mind finally cleared, A calm snapping back into place with a cold, sharp click. He looked at Jay, then at Krystian, who was staring at the blood on the floor with wide, hollow eyes. He felt Jay pulling him along. Before he knew it he was running. He didn't know where but he knew he needed to run.
Only one thought remained, overriding the fear, the confusion, and the horror:
ESCAPE.