Plasma
Chapter 1- [The forgotten blood]
It was supposed to be a normal school trip, a bus ride from California to Los Angeles. The road, called Dead Mountain Road, was narrow and winding, cutting through a mountain range. The students were chatting and looking out the windows at the scenery. Among them were Nero Nic and his older sister, Nissy Nix, who everyone called “Ninni.”
Nero was an average student who didn’t really care about school, while Ninni was the opposite smart, focused, and always bossing Nero around. The two didn’t get along much and spent most of their time bickering.
As the bus climbed higher up the mountain, Nero got bored. He stared out the window, lost in thought, wondering why his life felt so ordinary and what his purpose might be. Suddenly, something snapped him out of his thoughts a fiery object streaked across the sky and crashed onto the road just ahead of the bus.
The bus screeched to a stop. Everyone inside gasped, their eyes glued to the scene ahead. The driver stood up, told everyone to stay in their seats, and stepped out to see what had happened. Nero watched from the window as the driver walked toward the glowing crater left by the crash.
Then it happened. One moment, the driver was there, and the next, his head was gone. Blood gushed from his neck, spraying everywhere like a gruesome fountain. Nero froze in shock, his heart pounding in his chest. The bus filled with screams as everyone panicked. Ninni shouted at Nero to stay inside, but he couldn’t sit still.
Ignoring the chaos, Nero pushed open the bus door and stepped out, despite everyone yelling at him to come back. Ninni, furious and scared, followed him, trying to drag him back. “What are you doing?” she yelled.
“I need to see what’s going on,” Nero replied, his voice shaking.
As they moved closer to the crash site, Nero spotted something or someone lying on the ground. It was a man with bright red hair, covered in blood. He wasn’t moving. Nero hesitated but felt like he had to do something.
He knelt beside the man, placed a hand on his shoulder, and shook him gently. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked nervously.
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For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the man’s eyes shot open, and he let out a blood curdling scream. Nero stumbled back, his heart racing, as the man’s piercing eyes locked onto his.
The injured guy suddenly grabbed Nero’s collar, as if trying to say something important. But before he could speak, the man’s attention was drawn to the top of the mountain. Nero had looked too and seen a figure a shadowy person wearing a cloth mask, watching them silently. Then, just like that, the man on the ground had taken his last breath, and the masked figure disappeared without a trace. It was too much for Nero to handle, and everything went black.
Nero opened his eyes slowly, the room spinning around him. As things came into focus, he saw Ninni and a few other familiar faces his classmates and teacher standing beside his hospital bed. Their expressions were a mix of relief and worry, but Nero’s mind was elsewhere, replaying the chaos from before.
Now awake, Nero’s thoughts were racing. He sat up quickly, ignoring the pain in his body, and started firing off questions. “What happened? Are the others, okay? What about the bus driver?”
His teacher’s face turned pale, her voice low and sad. “The driver… he didn’t make it.”
The words hit Nero hard, but his confusion only grew. “What about the red haired guy?” he asked, his voice rising with urgency.
Everyone in the room looked at him, puzzled. “What red haired guy?” someone asked, their tone unsure. Nero turned to Ninni, hoping she’d back him up. “You saw him! You were there with me!” he insisted.
But Ninni just frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nero. You probably need to rest, you’re just shaken up,” she said gently.
Nero’s chest tightened. “No! I saw him. I saw him,” he muttered, his mind refusing to let it go. But when he asked again what had happened, the others told him it was a simple accident: the bus driver had gone to the washroom, and a truck hit him. No masked figure, no red haired man. Nothing Nero remembered seemed to have happened.
No one believed him. Exhausted and frustrated, Nero started doubting himself. Maybe it had been a dream just some twisted nightmare his mind created to deal with the shock. Eventually, he stopped asking and tried to accept their version of events.
A few days later, Nero was discharged from the hospital. Back home, he tried to move on from everything. Life was starting to feel normal again until the day he went to wash his clothes. That’s when he saw it.
The collar of his shirt was stained with blood.
Nero froze, staring at the dark red blotch. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. Something had happened that no one else remembered or wanted to admit.
And Nero wasn’t going to let it go.