Ethan stood still, watching Luke’s figure disappear into the distance, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. He knew there would be no further conversation with Luke today. The afternoon had been a blur of activity, yet he had gained nothing. Shaking his head in resignation, he muttered softly, "Looks like today’s a lost cause," dragging his feet as he headed for the school gates.
Standing by the gate, Ethan watched the night fall. He dreaded going home—a place that, despite its warmth, had become suffocatingly dangerous. Slowly, he walked the streets, his steps heavy and uncertain, until he found himself in front of a convenience store. He hesitated on the steps outside, sitting down. The dim streetlights flickered, casting a muted glow across the quiet night, and he stared at the darkening sky, filled with an overwhelming desire to flee.
If only I could just leave... The thought crossed his mind, but it was soon drowned by the crushing reality—he had nowhere to go. The air seemed to press down on him, a suffocating presence that felt like unseen eyes watching his every move in the night.
Taking a deep breath, he resigned himself to the inevitable. It was late, and if he didn't return soon, the monsters might suspect something. Reluctantly, he stood and began the long, weary walk home.
The moment he opened the door, an invisible weight fell upon him. His parents were seated as usual on the couch, the flickering light from the TV casting strange shadows on their faces. Everything appeared normal, yet Ethan’s entire body stiffened, his heart pounding in his chest. They turned their heads toward him simultaneously, their expressions soft and warm, but something in their gaze left him uneasy.
His mother smiled kindly, "You must be hungry. Shall I heat something for you?"
"No, Mom, I'm not feeling well." Ethan tried to keep his voice calm, though his throat tightened, making it hard to breathe.
His mother's smile faltered, concern clouding her features. "What’s wrong? Are you ill? Do we need to take you to the hospital? It’s not something serious, is it?" She stood up abruptly, her anxious tone almost too eager, too attentive.
His father frowned, leaning forward slightly, his eyes filled with suspicion. "Perhaps you should see a doctor. You’ve been looking exhausted lately."
Their concern seemed genuine, but Ethan knew better. They aren’t worried about his health. They’re afraid he might spoil tomorrow’s plan. Does he taste worse if he’s sick? The thought lodged itself like a thorn in his mind, filling him with nausea.
His mother’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of concern, "Tomorrow’s your birthday, after all. We wouldn’t want you to be ill for such an important day. We have a surprise for you—I’m sure you’ll love it." Her voice was still gentle, but to Ethan, it carried a chilling undertone.
Clenching his fists, Ethan fought back the rising anger. He couldn’t afford to reveal that he knew the truth. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. "I just need some rest, Mom, Dad. I’m tired, I think I’ll head to bed early."
His mother blinked in slight surprise but quickly recovered, her soft smile returning. "Of course, darling. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a special day, and you don’t want to be tired."
His father nodded, seeming to accept the explanation. "Rest well. Don’t overdo it tomorrow."
Ethan seized the opportunity and quickly made his way upstairs. As soon as he shut the door, he exhaled a long, shaky breath, leaning against the wooden surface. Though he had momentarily escaped their watchful eyes, he knew the danger lingered.
As he stood there, trying to calm his racing heart, the muffled sound of the TV reached his ears. The news announcer’s voice was faint but clear: “We interrupt this program for an urgent update. Several violent incidents have been reported across the city, with the prime suspect identified as 28-year-old Vivian Black, a psychiatric patient known for violent outbursts. She is described as having dark hair, approximately 5’7”, and was last seen wearing a black hoodie and black jeans. She is considered extremely dangerous and mentally unstable. Do not trust anything she says. If seen, please report immediately to the authorities at 555-XXXX.”
The report sent a chill through Ethan. The outside world was just as perilous, yet the most immediate threat remained at home. Sitting on his bed, his mind spiraled with desperate thoughts. Could he poison them? The idea flared briefly, but he quickly dismissed it—poison could easily be detected. Fire? No, that would alert the neighbors. Violence? He had neither the strength nor the weapons to defeat them. Even if he succeeded, what then?
He realized with grim certainty that most of the town was likely made up of monsters. Killing these two would only bring about a much larger, more dangerous hunt. The enormity of the situation crushed him, a deep sense of helplessness closing in, suffocating him.
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Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Ethan’s heart jumped. He leaned against the door, straining to listen. After a moment, he heard soft footsteps climbing the stairs toward his room. His nerves tightened with each approaching step until a familiar voice broke the tension.
"It’s me, Ethan."
The voice was unmistakable. The tension in his body released so suddenly he almost collapsed. He rushed to the door and quietly responded, "Samuel?"
He opened the door to find Samuel Grey standing in the hallway, his usual stern expression in place. Ethan lowered his voice, desperate. "Did you come to talk about the escape plan?"
But Samuel’s face was darker than usual, his eyes clouded with a deep, conflicted sorrow. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Something’s wrong."
Fear seized Ethan. "What is it? Have we been found out?"
Samuel hesitated, his expression pained, before speaking in a low voice. "Ethan, I’m sorry... I had no choice." His gaze was full of regret and a strange determination.
Before Ethan could react, a sharp pain pierced his stomach. He looked down, stunned to see Samuel’s hand gripping a knife, the blade buried deep in his abdomen. Blood flowed steadily from the wound.
"Why...?" Ethan gasped, his vision blurring as the pain spread through his body.
Samuel’s face twisted with sorrow, but behind it, there was a strange glimmer of hope. "I’m sorry... But this is the only way..."
As the last of his strength ebbed away, Ethan’s vision faded into darkness, his consciousness slipping away with the blood that pooled beneath him.
And then, suddenly, the world shifted.
Ethan jerked awake, his body cold and drenched in sweat. He was slumped over his desk, the afternoon sun streaming in through the classroom windows, dust motes swirling in the golden light. Outside, his classmates laughed and shouted, caught up in their normal routines. But Ethan felt entirely disconnected from this warm, peaceful world.
He felt a phantom pain in his abdomen, the memory of the blade fresh in his mind. Never had he experienced such a slow, agonizing death. Usually, the monsters were swift, merciless in their executions, but Samuel’s attack had left him to slowly bleed out, to feel every moment of life slipping away.
"Quick death... is better." He whispered to himself, his voice shaking. He was still trembling, struggling to keep his body upright. The world seemed distant, muffled, as if viewed through a veil.
Then, a voice pierced through the fog. "Ethan, Ethan..."
Ethan slowly lifted his head, his vision finally clearing enough to see Henry standing beside his desk, a concerned look on his face.
"Ethan, school’s over. We’ve got extracurricular activities starting soon. Are you okay?" Henry’s voice was cautious, but it cut through the lingering haze of Ethan’s recent death.
Ethan furrowed his brow, instinctively placing a hand on his abdomen where the phantom pain still throbbed. His voice was raspy, "School’s over? I… I don’t feel so good. I think I’ll skip today. You go ahead without me."
Henry hesitated, his eyes searching Ethan’s face. "You sure? You don’t look well. Want me to take you to the nurse?"
Ethan forced a weak smile, though his head was spinning. "No, I’ll be fine. I just need to rest."
Though still worried, Henry nodded. "Alright. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you later."
As Henry left the classroom, the chatter of students outside gradually faded. The once-bustling room grew eerily quiet, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts. He slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, his hand still pressed to his stomach. The dull ache reminded him that he had died—again.
The frustration of dying yet again welled up inside him, along with a sense of helplessness and anger.
Ethan struggled to his feet, pushing through the weakness in his body as he searched the classroom for Samuel. The classroom was nearly empty now, with only a few lingering students packing their bags at a leisurely pace. Ethan’s gaze swept across them, his mind elsewhere. Where could Samuel be? He stormed out of the classroom, his frustration mounting, ignoring the familiar buzz of after-school activities echoing through the halls.
Maybe Samuel went to one of the extracurricular activities, but Ethan remembered Samuel’s solitary nature. He almost never participated in any school events, and Ethan had no idea which, if any, he might be involved in. Finding him wouldn’t be easy, especially considering how withdrawn he always was. The students likely wouldn’t know where he had gone either.
Ethan approached a nearby group of students, suppressing the frustration boiling inside him. "Do you know where Samuel Grey went?" he asked, his voice tight.
The students exchanged glances, shaking their heads. "No clue," one muttered. "He always keeps to himself," another added, confirming Ethan’s worry.
Growing more anxious, Ethan left them behind and hurried through the school’s corridors, the background noise of students laughing and chatting after class barely registering in his mind. His eyes scanned the area constantly, searching for any sign of Samuel. Turning a corner, he nearly ran into Henry.
"Ethan! Feeling better?" Henry asked, his voice bright. "Wanna join us for activities?"
Ethan hesitated, his thoughts racing. He forced himself to stay calm, though his heart was pounding in his chest. "I’m still not feeling great," he said, his voice hoarse. "I think I’ll head home early. But... have you seen Samuel?"
"Samuel?" Henry looked surprised. "Why are you looking for him? I haven’t seen him since school let out."
Ethan’s frustration deepened. "It’s nothing, I just needed to talk to him."
Henry looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but before he could, Ethan quickly waved him off and continued his search. His heart raced, his thoughts consumed by one pressing question: Where the hell is Samuel?
Henry watched as Ethan hurried off, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
Ethan pushed aside his rising irritation, continuing his search across the campus. He combed through every possible location—the extracurricular activity rooms, the gym, even the more obscure corners of the school—yet Samuel was nowhere to be found. With each failure, the weight on his chest grew heavier, anger and anxiety pressing down on him like a stone.