"What's wrong with you?" Henry asked, startled by Ethan's reaction. His voice was low and gentle, a tone Ethan knew all too well.

"Sorry, you just caught me off guard," Ethan replied quietly, still sounding a bit dazed. He glanced at the time on his phone—it was noon on April 30th. His birthday was tomorrow, but his mind hadn’t fully processed it. Everything felt unreal, as if he were watching a movie from the outside, detached.

Henry leaned in, his face full of concern. "You don’t look so good. Are you sick? Or didn’t sleep well last night?"

"I'm fine, just had a... nightmare," Ethan muttered, touching his neck where the lingering pain from Mr. Smith’s attack still throbbed.

Henry watched him closely, the concern deepening. They’d known each other since childhood, and Henry could tell something was off. “Let’s grab some lunch. It might help you feel better.”

"Let’s just check out the cafeteria," Ethan stood up, his head heavy with confusion, as if his brain had been filled with sludge. He trudged along behind Henry, his steps slow and labored, feeling like he was moving through a fog. Even though his emotions were still in turmoil, having his friend nearby brought him a small measure of comfort.

As they walked down the hallway, the crowd around them seemed to blur, the voices and laughter of students mixing into a distant hum. Ethan moved mechanically, his legs carrying him forward while his mind buzzed with thoughts like sand caught in the gears. His vision was dark and unfocused, his thoughts scattered. All he could do was follow Henry’s steps closely, afraid that if he didn’t, he’d be lost in this swaying, unstable reality.

"Hello, Mr. Smith!" Henry’s voice suddenly rang out, cutting through the fog in Ethan’s mind like lightning.

Ethan instinctively looked up to see Mr. Smith ahead, chatting with a group of students, smiling warmly. Henry waved energetically, but Ethan recoiled, wanting to turn and run. He couldn’t make it that obvious, though, so he forced a stiff smile instead. "Hello, Mr. Smith."

Mr. Smith nodded and smiled back, his gaze lingering on Ethan for just a second. In that moment, Ethan’s heart clenched, nearly stopping. He stood frozen, his blood turning to ice. He dared not meet Mr. Smith’s eyes and wished he could vanish on the spot.

"What's going on, Ethan?" Henry asked quietly, confusion etched across his face. "Didn’t you used to like Mr. Smith? Wasn’t he your favorite teacher?"

"I... I’m just hungry," Ethan’s voice was weak as he struggled to push out the words. "Let’s get to the cafeteria."

He just wanted to get out of there, far away from Mr. Smith. Henry glanced between Ethan and Mr. Smith, clearly puzzled, but nodded. "Alright, let’s go."

Ethan followed behind, his thoughts still a tangled mess.

When they finally reached the cafeteria, the noise of the crowd hit him all at once, snapping him back to reality. Ethan blinked, realizing he was already seated at a table. The loud chatter and laughter of students washed over him like waves, overwhelming his senses. He blinked again, feeling like he had just woken from a long dream, finally grounding himself in something real.

But then the fear kicked in. So many people... how many of them are monsters?

He shouldn’t have come to the cafeteria. He should have stayed in the classroom and eaten something quickly. There were too many people here, and the constant noise gnawed at his nerves. His stomach twisted as though cold hands were gripping it, making him feel nauseous. He gripped the edge of the table tightly, his knuckles turning white, trying to keep his emotions in check.

Around him, the murmur of voices and laughter pressed in like invisible waves, battering his already fragile state. He tried to appear calm, though inside, his mind was spiraling out of control.

Henry slid a plate of food toward him, frowning in confusion. "Didn’t you say you were hungry?"

“Yeah,” Ethan replied, forcing himself to nod. He picked up a sandwich and took a mechanical bite. The bread was dry, the ham tasteless. He chewed without really tasting it.

Eating was the last thing on his mind. His thoughts kept circling back to what the monsters, disguised as his parents, had said. They’d mentioned that "sixteen tastes the best," and Mr. Smith was a monster too. That could only mean one thing—maybe only those under sixteen were still human. But his classmates… how many of them were still human?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And then there was Mr. Smith’s bandage... the blood. How had that happened? Ethan furrowed his brow, confusion clouding his mind. The monsters had such tough carapaces, nearly impervious to harm. Who or what could have injured them? Was there someone else in town who knew about the monsters and was fighting back? But... who? How would he find them?

Ethan shook his head, trying to push away the wild speculation. He didn’t have time to chase hypothetical allies. He needed to rely on himself—on his own power.

His ability: Death Reset.

Maybe he could use it to take a gamble. The thought took root in his mind, his heart rate picking up. Even if he failed, he could go back, reset, and try again. The crazy idea began to grow, like it was his only chance to escape the monsters' clutches.

But he couldn’t do it alone. He needed allies—more humans.

Ethan’s eyes scanned the room, his thoughts racing. He had to find trustworthy people. There was no way he could fight the monsters by himself.

He needed familiar faces. Only those he knew well, like his classmates, might have the chance to understand and trust him during a reset. Once he identified who was still human, he could quickly form alliances and lead them in fighting back.

Ethan stared down at the sandwich in his hand, an idea started to form. He needed a large-scale test, one that would force the monsters to reveal themselves. Only then could he confirm who was human and who wasn’t. And to do that, he’d have to expose the monsters in front of the entire class.

It was dangerous—he knew that. But what other choice did he have? The monsters hid too well. If he couldn’t figure out who they were, he would be stuck in this nightmare forever. He needed to gather the real humans, form a group strong enough to fight back. Together, they could find a way to deal with the monsters.

His fists clenched tight, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to stay focused. No matter what, he had to try. He could fail over and over, but each time, he’d reset and start again. His heart rate began to steady as his plan took shape.

But where should he act? Ethan’s gaze swept across the cafeteria, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. A party? No, he couldn’t guarantee everyone would attend. With less than 24 hours before his parents would devour him, he couldn’t waste time. He needed a setting where all of his classmates would be present—the classroom, before class started.

His mind raced, analyzing his classmates, trying to figure out who might be a monster. The monsters had said fear would ruin the "meat," so they must try to keep humans happy. Luke McDonald—the friendly, always-helpful boy in class. He was everyone's "best friend," always there with a smile when someone needed help. His smile was so warm, sometimes even too perfect...

Ethan’s gaze landed on Luke, sitting not far away. Luke was tall and athletic, always dressed in perfectly fitted sports gear, ready for a game at a moment’s notice. That sunny face of his was always lit up with a broad grin. But now, that smile seemed too perfect, too bright for the current situation.

Besides, monsters would strike when the "meat" was at its best. Luke was already seventeen. He should’ve been "used" by now. But he was still here. That wasn’t normal. Ethan gritted his teeth, his suspicion hardening: Luke was probably a monster.

He needed a weapon. His eyes landed on the cafeteria’s table knives. Not sharp, but if he sharpened one, it might cut through the monsters’ skin, revealing the carapace underneath. He discreetly grabbed a knife and slipped it into his pocket, his mind racing through the details of his plan.

Back in the classroom, Ethan’s hands were sweating slightly, gripping the knife in his pocket. His eyes darted nervously around as his classmates trickled in, their laughter and chatter filling the room. But to Ethan, every second felt drawn out, each moment weighed with tension.

Luke was chatting with a few friends, his usual warm smile plastered across his face. That smile now sent a chill down Ethan’s spine. He took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he walked over to the classroom door and quickly shut it. Turning back to face the room, his voice was shaky but firm. "I have something to tell everyone. No matter what happens next, please stay calm."

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Ethan. His heart pounded in his chest, but outwardly, he kept his composure. His gaze locked onto Luke, cold and resolute. "Luke, can you come here? I need your help."

Luke walked over quickly, still smiling warmly, his expression friendly and concerned. "What's up, Ethan? Do you need something?" His voice was kind, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the tense atmosphere in the room.

For a moment, Ethan almost relaxed. Luke had always been the helpful, reliable type, the one who stood up for others when they needed it. But after everything Ethan had been through—after realizing even his parents weren’t who they seemed—he couldn’t trust anyone so easily anymore.

Luke stood tall before him, his dependable figure now casting an oppressive shadow over Ethan. What once seemed like a source of strength now felt threatening. Cold sweat formed on Ethan's palms as he gripped the knife hidden in his pocket. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against Luke in a fair fight, but he had no other choice.

"Ethan?" Luke frowned, his brow creasing as he called out again, sensing something was wrong. Concern colored his tone.

Ethan didn’t answer. He acted.

In one swift motion, he pulled the knife from his pocket and slashed at Luke’s neck. The knife wasn’t sharp, but it didn’t need to be. He only needed to break the skin—just enough to reveal the truth underneath.

The blade cut through Luke's skin, and warm liquid splattered across Ethan’s face. Blood.