As I walked toward them, I kept my eyes locked on the creature's corpse lying a few feet away. Its body was still, but something about it made me uneasy—like it was holding its breath, waiting.
Waiting for what, I wondered. Surely it was dead.
"Hurry up!" Nkosi called out.
"This place makes me uneasy," he added.
"Yes, sire," Jayden responded jokingly.
"You heard the man," he said, this time addressing me.
I picked up the pace, still wary of the creature's corpse.
After a few seconds, we stood in a loose circle.
"So… what's the plan?" Jayden asked.
His shirt was torn, and a faint scratch marked his cheek. His companion, however, was mostly unharmed—at least, no visible injuries aside from sleeves stained with blood from the earlier battle.
"Well," Nkosi said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a marble-like object, "does this place look familiar?"
He glanced around, prompting both Jayden and me to do the same.
"The assembly hall," he said suddenly, louder than he probably intended. "I knew this place looked familiar. By theory, this should take us there."
"By theory?" Jayden repeated, confusion in his voice.
"It's either that, or we wait for Jasmine."
"Noooo," Jayden replied quickly.
"Then it's settled. Plus, we need to get that scar on her forehead checked out," Nkosi said, glancing at me.
"Yeah, hopefully it didn't lay any eggs in you," Jayden muttered.
"Not helping," Nkosi scolded.
"Ten seconds," he said as he placed the object on the floor and crushed it underfoot.
"Whatever you do, fight it," he added, though it felt like he was speaking mostly to me.
"And let's hold hands, children," he quipped.
Nkosi held out his hand.
Jayden extended his hand to me, but his expression faltered when he realized I was missing my right arm. His eyes widened with surprise and embarrassment, a flush creeping into his cheeks.
Instead of reaching for my missing hand, he gently placed his palm on my shoulder.
"You're good," he said softly.
"Here goes nothing," Nkosi muttered, stepping onto the glowing object.
Purple smoke erupted from the marble, swirling around us in a rising spiral. It coiled in tight circles, climbing past our legs and waists. The world began to fade—colors dimming, shapes warping. The crumbling auditorium's sounds were drowned out by a low hum vibrating in my chest.
When the smoke cleared, we stood in the school's hall.
But it wasn't the same.
This version was pristine—eerily so. The wooden benches were polished and intact. The stage looked freshly cleaned, complete with its podium and neatly drawn curtains. The air smelled of varnished wood and something sweetly artificial, like air freshener masking decay.
"Nice," Jayden said, already walking toward the door.
I stepped forward—and nausea slammed into me. My stomach twisted violently. I stumbled, knees buckling, and bile surged into my throat. I dropped to all fours and vomited onto the polished floor. The sound echoed sharply through the silent space.
Nkosi crouched beside me. "You okay?" he asked gently.
I nodded weakly, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "Yeah… just—"
I stopped. Something was wrong.
Nkosi had gone pale. He wasn't looking at me anymore. He was staring past me—at the door.
I followed his gaze.
Jayden's hand was already on the handle, turning it slowly. Too slowly. A chill ran down my spine.
The door creaked open—and I saw it.
Just a glimpse, but it was enough.
The world outside was wrong. Blood-red skies bled into an endless black horizon. Horned silhouettes of all shapes and sizes wandered aimlessly in the distance, twitching and jerking like broken puppets. Their movements were unnatural. Inhuman.
Whispers. Screams. Laughter. All overlapping.
My ears rang. My skull felt like it was splitting open. I dropped to my knees again, pressing my hands to my head. I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the chaos pouring in from the open door. I collapsed into my own vomit—cold, shaking.
Then—
Click.
The door closed.