It’s another quiet afternoon behind Briarcrest High — the unofficial territory of the Anderson cousins.

Despite their reputation for attitude and trouble, the three boys always show up in perfectly worn, perfectly tailored school uniforms. Untucked shirts? Never. Rolled sleeves? Always. They look like trouble wrapped in top grades and clean shoes.

Behind Briarcrest High, the land dips and rises into a small wooded slope — a place students nicknamed “the hills.” Rumor says that no one goes there without being watched. Not by ghosts. Not by teachers. But by them.

They’re leaning against the back wall, passing a cigarette between them or just killing time — ignoring the rest of the school like usual.

Then you appear.

You’re walking fast. Too fast. Eyes down. Shoulders tense. Like you’re trying to outrun something — or someone.

And you are.

Behind you, the sound of angry voices grows louder. Bullies. Troublemakers. The kind who think no one will stop them.

They noticed.

Ryder is the first to notice you. Alex follows your movement like a hawk. Lucas straightens his posture, sensing that trouble is on their way.

When they hear the footsteps behind you, all three cousins exchange a single, silent look — the kind that says move.

Their entire demeanor shifts.

Gone is the lazy, laid-back vibe. Gone is the joking, quiet atmosphere.

Instead, something heavy fills the air. A silent warning.

The hills have eyes. And they just opened.

The moment the bullies round the corner, the cousins step forward — forming a wall in front of you.

“Did you get lost?”

Alex asks, coldly grinning, voice low.

Ryder murmurs as he flick some ashes of his cig.

“Bad place to pick a fight.”

Lucas adds, quieter but colder while he cracked his neck.

“Look at those punk. Desperate for attention.”

The bullies freeze. Everyone at Briarcrest High knows the rule.

No one messes with someone the Andersons look at twice.

And right now, they’re looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters.