The afternoon sun dripped through the branches like melted gold, filtering down to where Celine sat beneath the old oak tree at the far end of the school garden.
It was her sanctuary — the one place where the noise of the world could not reach her. The rustling leaves whispered softly above, and the faint hum of bees merged with the distant calls of students. Here, everything felt still, safe, unbothered.
She leaned back against the rough bark, closing her eyes. A small smile touched her lips as the warmth of the sunlight bathed her face. For once, she could breathe.
The scent of freshly cut grass, the chirp of sparrows hopping about the hedges, the lazy rhythm of the day — it all folded into a quiet melody that lulled her into peace.
Her fingers played absently with a fallen leaf as her thoughts drifted. She thought about her friends — Cindy and Cathy — the laughter they shared earlier that morning.
Those simple, ordinary moments now felt like something worth holding on to. She thought about Cathy and hoped she was holding up well.
Slowly, her eyes began to flutter closed. The cool shade and rhythmic sounds drew her toward sleep.
But that peace shattered.
It began faintly — a tremor of panic in the air. Then came the sound of feet pounding against the ground, quick and chaotic. Voices rose, distant at first, like ripples spreading across still water.
Then came the screams.
Celine's eyes shot open. Her heart stumbled in her chest as she sat upright, straining her ears. The voices grew louder — frightened, hysterical. She recognized the sound instantly: terror.
"What's happening?" she murmured, pushing herself off the grass. Her pulse quickened, unease threading through her.
The noise came from the direction of the main building. She brushed dirt from her skirt and started walking briskly, but the air felt heavier the closer she got — thick with dread, whispers, and confusion.
By the time she reached the courtyard, a crowd had already gathered, pressing together in a semicircle. The air buzzed with the static of panic.
Celine's stomach twisted. "Move, please," she whispered, trying to push her way through. No one listened.
Her anxiety built with every heartbeat. She forced herself through gaps between bodies until she finally broke through to the front — and froze.
Her breath stopped.
Cindy lay sprawled on the concrete.
For a moment, Celine couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. The world seemed to slow, each detail carving itself into her mind with painful clarity — the white uniform torn at the shoulder, the unnatural bend of her arm, the crimson blood stains spreading beneath her body.
Her knees went weak.
"C-Cindy?" The name escaped her lips as little more than a whisper.
The vibrant girl she has just seen that morning was gone — her expression frozen mid-shock, eyes glassy and empty. The ground beneath her gleamed dark red, the scent of blood sharp in the air.
A choking sound rose from Celine's throat. Her body trembled as she knelt beside her friend, reaching out with unsteady hands that hesitated mid-air. She couldn't bring herself to touch her. She didn't want to believe it was real.
"This isn't… this isn't happening…"
The murmurs around her blurred into a low, buzzing hum. Someone was crying, another whispering a prayer.
Somewhere in the crowd, a teacher shouted for everyone to step back, but Celine barely heard. The edges of her vision blurred.
She stared at Cindy's face — pale, lifeless — and felt her own heart splinter.
Then a shrill voice cut through the chaos.
"There's another body! In the restroom!"
The words tore through the air like thunder. The crowd gasped collectively, heads turning toward the main building.
Another body?
Celine's blood ran cold. Her mind screamed for her to stay away, but her legs moved on their own.
She stumbled to her feet and pushed forward, following the stream of students rushing toward the restroom corridor. Her shoes slapped against the tiled floor, echoing in the tense hallway.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
She didn't know why she was moving. Maybe denial. Maybe hope. Maybe some irrational part of her wanted to prove it wasn't true — that Cindy's death was a nightmare and everything would be fine.
But when she reached the restroom, that fragile hope died.
Cathy was there.
Another friend.
Her bright, stubborn, fearless Cathy — the one who always had a comeback ready, who always acted strong even when she had problems — now lay motionless on the cold tiles.
Her limbs were twisted awkwardly, eyes wide open in eternal terror. Blood had splattered across the mirror, streaks running down like red tears. Her once-beautiful hair was matted against her face, and a deep wound marred her temple, where the light reflected off wet, crimson streaks.
Celine's breath hitched violently.
"Cathy…" she whispered. Her voice cracked.
She staggered forward, but the metallic scent of blood hit her, thick and suffocating. Her body revolted — her stomach twisted painfully, her chest tightened. She clutched at her uniform, her throat burning as bile rose.
Her vision swam.
Around her, the other students stood frozen, whispering, crying, unable to look for long. The tiled floor was slick with red, a grotesque reflection of horror.
"No… this isn't real… it can't be…"
Tears welled in her eyes. The weight of grief pressed down on her chest until she thought she might break apart. The people she had spent every day with — gone. Just like that.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She could barely breathe.
And then, something caught her eye.
On the floor, just beside Cathy's outstretched hand, faint streaks of red trailed off — not random smears, but lines, deliberate and cruelly precise.
Celine blinked, wiping her eyes. Her heart pounded as she stepped closer, squinting through the haze of her tears.
The lines formed letters.
Words.
For a second, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. The message was faint, incomplete — as if written hastily in blood. But as she stared, the letters darkened, sharpening, as if something unseen was finishing them right before her eyes.
You're Next.
Her heart stopped.
The room seemed to tilt. The light flickered above, casting warped shadows that crawled across the walls like living things. The students around her didn't notice — they were too consumed by Cathy's body, too horrified to look elsewhere.
But she saw it.
She saw it move.
The message pulsed faintly, as if breathing — and for an instant, Celine thought she saw a reflection in the puddle of blood below: a shadow, standing just behind her.
She spun around.
Nothing.
Only the flickering light, the cold air, the faint echo of footsteps retreating somewhere far down the corridor.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She stumbled backward, her back hitting the wall. Her breath came out in shallow gasps. "No… no, no…"
Her knees gave way. She slid down to the floor, her body trembling violently. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat on her skin.
Images flashed behind her eyelids — Cindy's broken body, Cathy's lifeless eyes, and that message carved in blood, whispering to her.
You're next.
The words wouldn't stop repeating. They echoed inside her skull, cold and mocking.
She covered her ears, but the sound was inside her — a whisper just beneath the surface of her thoughts.
You're next…
A cold draft swept through the restroom. The lights flickered again — once, twice — before one bulb burst, raining tiny shards of glass onto the floor. The crowd screamed and stumbled back, chaos erupting again.
Celine barely noticed. Her world was narrowing, collapsing in on itself.
Her heartbeat slowed.
Her gaze lingered on the bloodstained words, her reflection trembling in the crimson puddle below. For a fleeting second, her reflection didn't move the same way she did — it smiled.
And then, the darkness came.
Her body swayed once before crumpling to the ground, consciousness slipping from her grasp. The world around her blurred into nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat fading into silence.
The last thing she heard was that whisper, soft footsteps walking close towards her from among the crowd.
And then everything went black.
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