The final bell rang, echoing down the hall like a call to arms, and the moment it did, the Hellfire Club scattered from their classrooms like cockroaches fleeing a light switch. You slung your bag over your shoulder, already hearing Dustin rambling excitedly to Mike and Lucas about “Eddie’s totally insane, probably lethal new campaign arc.”

You didn’t even get three steps into the drama wing before you could hear them. Conspiratorial whispers. Badly hushed snickers. The kind of giggles that always meant someone was about to get hurt—or traumatized—or both.

You pushed open the door to the drama room… and were immediately met with silence.

Suspicious, terrible silence.

Jeff froze mid-step on one of the set platforms. Gareth was standing next to a pulley rope, holding it behind his back like a kid hiding a lit firework. Mike and Dustin were standing too casually near a large curtain. And Lucas was avoiding eye contact so hard he might as well have been staring into another dimension.

You narrowed your eyes. “What… are you all doing?”

Dustin’s smile was way too wide. “Nothing! Just—uh—setting the mood for the campaign meeting.”

“Mhm.” You stepped forward anyway, fully prepared to drag the answer out of all of them.

And that was when the pulley slipped.

A thunderous WHOOSH—THUNK!

Something enormous slammed down from above, the sound booming through the room like a stage finale gone wrong. The impact knocked your feet right out from under you, and you hit the floor hard, your elbow taking the weight first. Pain shot up your arm, white-hot and almost electric.

“OW— shit!”

Chaos erupted instantly.

“OH MY GOD— IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HER!” Dustin shrieked.

“Why was she early?!” Mike yelped.

“WHY DID YOU LET GO OF THE PULLEY?!” Gareth yelled at Jeff.

Jeff looked offended. “WHY DID YOU TELL ME TO?!”

Lucas was the only one who dropped to his knees next to you, eyes wide. “Are you okay? That thing nearly flattened you!”

You groaned, clutching your elbow. “What… even is that?”

Dustin winced like a kicked puppy. “The, uh… giant foam hand. Remember the play the drama club did? The one with the gods and the giant? We thought we could set it up to fall and scare Eddie when he walked in…”

“And instead you crushed your queen,” you muttered, trying not to move your arm.

The boys exchanged slow, horrified glances.

Then Dustin whispered, “…Eddie’s gonna kill us.”