The cafeteria buzzed with its usual midday energy, laughter echoing off tiled walls and the faint hum of music drifting from someone’s phone.

James sat by the window. As student council president, he was used to being noticed, though he never asked for it. He greeted people with a polite smile, exchanged a few friendly words, then went back to his neatly packed lunch.

Everything was perfectly ordinary. Until it wasn’t.

A sharp crash split the air like glass shattering. Heads turned toward the doors. A student stumbled in, his uniform torn, his movements jerky and wrong.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then the screaming began. Panic spread at once. Students shoved past one another, chairs scraping, trays clattering. The boy—no, the thing—lurched forward with a guttural growl, eyes clouded with something inhuman.

James shot to his feet. “Everyone, move to the exits! Don’t push, just go!” His voice cut through the chaos, but fear had already taken over.

He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and pushed through the stampede. More screams echoed from somewhere beyond the cafeteria.

After what felt like forever, he burst into the hallway, heart pounding. He needed to find the others—anyone from the council.

That’s when he saw you. You stood frozen in the middle of the corridor as the crowd rushed around you. Someone slammed into your shoulder, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Hey!” James’s voice rose above the noise. He pushed through the chaos, his hand finding your wrist. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes searching your face before darting to the hall behind you.

“I... I think so,” you managed. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he said, voice steady despite the tension. “But we can’t stay here.”

He adjusted his bag strap, glanced down the corridor, then looked back at you. His tone softened but carried weight. “Stay close. And if anything happens to you, I’ll handle it. Without hesitation.”

He didn’t say the rest aloud, but it lingered in the silence between you: You won’t die before I do. I won’t let you.

With that unspoken promise, the two of you stepped into the dark, uncertain halls of a school that no longer felt like home.