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The rain fell in thin sheets, painting the window glass with crooked streaks. The view was almost admirable—a heavy, cloud-choked sky, as if a storm were poised to crash down on the city.
Ethan Blanc rested his chin on one hand, watching the chemistry teacher walk through formulas and equations—a "simple" review for next Tuesday's test. His gaze drifted to his own notebook: scribbles, half-finished equations, handwriting that was decent but lazy.
"I'm screwed for this test."
The words slipped out in a faint, monotonous murmur—just loud enough to catch the attention of a certain miserable existence.
"No surprise there," came the irritating reply. "I can't remember the last time you cared about a test. This is what you get for acting like a self-absorbed jerk."
David. The miserable guy who sits to my right—big enough to block my view of the board and so infuriating that it's more embarrassing than enraging to breathe the same air as such a putrid, repulsive being.
There's no point wasting the energy to argue or even look at him. I don't care about his words, but it's still agony to endure such a creature's presence. With a tired, disinterested sigh, I ignore his empty taunts.
The teacher's chalk scraped against the board, the rough sound making my teeth grind. Outside, the rain quickened, as if eager to drown the city.
A few drops burst against the glass, and for a moment, I swore I saw something move outside the building. Not anyone I recognized—but I've never been proud of my memory, so it didn't surprise me.
I leaned forward slightly to get a better look, but the silhouette had already vanished behind the courtyard trees.
"Going crazy, Blanc?" David whispered with a cynical smile, probably thinking I'd been staring at some girl.
"Worry about your own life," I muttered, eyes still on the window.
The teacher kept talking, but his voice seemed more distant now, muffled by the growing rush of rain. A deep rumble of thunder rolled across the city, making the glass tremble.
A few students laughed, others feigned surprise—but me? I felt a weight in the air. Almost tangible.
The hallway outside was silent until a dry, metallic clink echoed across the tiles—close enough to make the teacher pause mid-sentence, frowning toward the door. He hesitated, then went back to writing as if nothing had happened.
The rain now hammered the windows, another crash of thunder rattling the glass and drawing nervous laughter from some students.
That's when I heard it—soft but distinct—a wet, dragging sound. Like flesh sliding across the floor.
The teacher froze, chalk hovering mid-formula. His brow furrowed, eyes fixed on the door as though expecting someone to walk in.
Nothing.
With a faint sigh, he turned back to the board. But… something wasn't right.
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The doorknob began to turn—slowly, creaking. Before anyone could comment, the door burst open with violent force.
He stepped in.
Or rather… that thing stepped in.
It was a man—or had been. The skin was mottled with grayish patches, stretched unevenly, with dark, swollen veins branching like roots beneath it. Every step came with an involuntary spasm, as if his muscles were receiving conflicting commands. The torso pitched forward and sideways in short, jerky movements, like a puppet yanked by unseen strings.
One eye was clouded over with a milky film, the other darting wildly, unfocused, as if searching for any trace of life. His mouth hung open, trembling in small, erratic motions, revealing broken teeth coated in thick saliva and clotted blood.
The muscles in his neck contracted unevenly, almost convulsively, as though something alive writhed inside. With each spasm, his head jerked violently—backward, sideways—emitting wet cracks from his vertebrae.
A sour stench filled the room—a suffocating mix of iron, sweat, and rotting flesh.
Before anyone could scream, it lunged. The movements were jerky, uncoordinated—yet far too fast to avoid.
The first victim was Lucas, the student closest to the door. The infected seized his shoulder with brutal force, the suddenness punctuated by the dry snap of his collarbone.
Its entire body shuddered in a violent spasm, and its mouth clamped down on the side of Lucas's neck, tearing flesh like wet paper. The sound was like thick fabric ripping, followed by a hot gush of blood spraying across the desk and the faces of two classmates.
Lucas's scream lasted only seconds before dissolving into a wet, desperate gurgle as the infected pulled and chewed chunks from his neck. Blood pooled across the floor, mingling with the rainwater dripping from its clothes.
Then, the room erupted into chaos.
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