I peek out slowly, my heart pounding like a drum. Holy crap. I nearly gasp out loud when I see it - a dozen meters away, there's this... thing with its back to me, crouched over what looks like another student's body, tearing into it.

The creature has the unmistakable shape of a person, but twisted and wrong in a way that chills me to the bone. Two arms, two legs, a head - all human, yet not human at all. Its sickly green skin stretches tight over an emaciated frame, and patches of leathery flesh hang loose in places.

I quickly yank my head back in and quietly shut the door, my hands shaking so bad that I can barely grip the handle.

"What is going on?!" My voice cracks, barely a whisper, as I press myself against the door. "This can't be real. It's gotta be some kind of sick joke, right?" But deep down, I know it's not. The horrific scene keeps replaying in my head on a sickening loop. "What was that thing? Why is this happening? What should I do?!"

I pace back and forth in the tiny restroom, freaking out, hyperventilating. The walls feel like they're closing in. My eyes dart around frantically for anything that could help me, and then I spot a small trash can in the corner. I freeze, an idea forming. "Maybe... I could use that. As a weapon?" I barely recognize my own voice, high-pitched and desperate.

I grab the trash can, my hands trembling so violently I nearly drop it, and dump out its contents. The stuff inside clatters to the floor, echoing in the small space. It's way lighter than I thought, and for a split second I wonder if it's even going to do any good. I turn it over, examining it from every angle, trying to convince myself.

"It's not much, but it's better than nothing, right? I mean, people in the movies always find a way to use everyday objects as weapons. So, why can't I…?"

Oh, who am I kidding? Icy tendrils of fear squeeze my chest until I can barely breathe. My fingers ache from gripping the trash can so tight. Glancing at the door, my whole body starts shaking harder, teeth chattering.

"I can't do this. I'm not cut out for this. I'm just... me. Ordinary, scared-of-my-own-shadow me." The thought of facing whatever's out there makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide until it's over.

I sit there for what feels like hours, but is probably only minutes, my mind racing. The silence is deafening, broken only by my ragged breathing and the occasional distant moan from outside. My legs start to cramp from being curled up so tight.

"How long can I stay here? Forever? That's ridiculous." I glance at my phone - no signal. Of course. "No one's coming to save me. No one would even care enough in the first place."

A shudder runs through me, and suddenly the small space feels suffocating. I stand up, pacing slowly in the tiny room, feeling like a caged animal. "This can't be it. This can't be how it ends. Not like this, all alone in this stupid restroom." If I don't go, I'll just be stuck here. Forever. Waiting to die.

I swallow hard, my mouth dry as sandpaper. "I don't want to wait for death. At least if I face it, I might have a chance. A chance to make it out alive" And what if facing this nightmare could actually make me stronger? "It's a long shot, but that's all I've got." I take a deep, shaky breath, and try to pull myself together, willing desperately for my hands to stop shaking.

"Okay. You can do this. Remember all those times you thought you couldn't handle something, but you did? This is just... a more extreme version of that." I let out a shaky laugh at my own absurd attempt at a pep talk.

I've made up my mind. I reach for the door handle once again, open the door quietly, and slowly peek back out. That thing is still bent over the body, tearing into it, completely absorbed. I bend my knees and start to slowly sneak towards it, hardly daring to breathe.

Suddenly, a pinging sound makes me nearly jump out of my skin.

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A text box pops up in the corner of my vision.

New skill unlocked:

Sneaking Level 1 = Does 1.5 times more damage when attacking an unaware opponent.

Skill Description: This skill lets you move around without being noticed. The higher it is, the less likely you'll be spotted when you're sneaking. When you attack an unaware enemy, you'll also do 1.5 times more damage. Every sneaking level gives you 5% extra damage on unaware opponents.

"What the... No time for that now. Just... keep going."

I try to ignore the box, laser-focused on my target. One foot at a time, I inch closer, palms slick with sweat. When I'm close enough to almost touch it, I raise the trash can over my head and bring it crashing down on the back of its skull with every ounce of strength I have. Its head explodes, fragments of bone and brain matter splattering everywhere. The body stays upright for a second, teetering, like it's not sure if it's dead yet, and then it topples over.

You attacked an opponent's weak spot. 100% critical chance was applied.

You attacked an unaware opponent. 50% extra damage was applied.

Base damage: 40

(40*2)+40 = 120 damage.

Congratulations!

You have defeated a level 5 zombie.

Experience has been distributed.

"No freaking way, did I just one-shot it?! Wait, zombie? Like, an actual zombie? This can't be real." The text said it was a level 5 zombie. I bet it wouldn't have been so easy if I was still level 1. But I don't get a chance to think about it more, as I realize that my little sneak attack didn't go unnoticed.

Some zombies from a bigger group nearby start stumbling towards me, guttural moans ripping from their throats. I spin around and sprint back into the restroom, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls rattle. My chest heaves as I wait to see if they'll try to break in.

"Please don't come in, please don't come in," I chant under my breath, fingers crossed. The text said this was a safe zone, so they shouldn't be able to, but I still don't know for sure. When nothing happens for a while, I crack the door open, just a sliver, to take a peek.

A scream tears from my throat before I can stop it. I can't help it. There's a rotting face right there, inches from mine, milky eyes staring into mine. I scramble backwards, heart lodged in my throat, nearly tripping over my own feet. But the zombie doesn't come after me.

"Huh? It can't get in?" Inching closer, I wave my hand in its face, holding my breath. Nothing. I study the doorway, the invisible barrier between us. My hand hovers just inside the border. Slowly, I move it towards the zombie, a hair's breadth at a time. The second my fingers cross the threshold, the zombie lunges, jaws snapping, its putrid breath washing over my skin.

I yank my hand back so fast I almost fall over, stumbling away from the door. "Holy crap! That was too close!" The zombie's head smacks into the invisible wall, unable to cross into the restroom. I look at the trash can still clutched in my white-knuckled grip. Then at the zombie in the doorway. Then at the two zombies behind it. An idea starts to slowly form.

"This is crazy. But then again, this whole situation is crazy." I draw my arm back like a pitcher on the mound, plant my feet, and hurl the trash can at the first zombie's head with everything I've got, making sure I don't cross the border. It smashes into the monster's skull and sends it reeling back into the other two, all of them going down like bowling pins.

You attacked an opponent's weak spot. 100% critical chance was applied.

Base damage: 40

40*2 = 80 damage.

"What? No way." I stare at the fallen zombies, then at my hands, then back at the zombies. "How is this even fair? I can just stand here and take them out without any risk? It's almost like an XP farm or something." I'm stunned, my mind racing to process this. As the implications sink in, a slow smile starts to form on my face, for the first time since this nightmare began.

"Huh. You know, this might actually be a game-changer. Every zombie I defeat like this will still make me stronger. I could become... Well, not helpless anymore. Maybe even pretty tough."

I let out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking my head. "Wow. Imagine that. Me, the kid who always got picked last in gym class, will actually get a shot at surviving this."

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders, feeling a mix of determination and nervous energy. "Okay. No more just running and hiding. It's time to start using this... whatever it is... to my advantage."

I look at the zombies still milling about outside the door, then at the trash can I'm holding. There's still anxiety churning in my gut, but now there's a spark of something else too - maybe hope, maybe adrenaline. "Alright, you undead jerks. Let's see how many levels I can rack up."

Little did I know, this "XP Farm" strategy wouldn't last for long.