"Now, what I'm about to tell you is serious." -/-/-/-/-

"You alright, Rowan?" asked Samuel. Samuel was one of Rowans longtime friends since 3rd grade. He wore round glasses that made his eyes bigger than they really were. he had ginger hair, and he flung it straight up. He had an abnormal amount of freckles and had a low voice that was bass-boosted every time he screamed. Both of them were in 8th grade, and their plans were simple. Samuel was going to study his heart out to improve his grades. He decided that the best way to study would be to fully invest in partnering up with Rowan. Sitting happily at a small café where his sister works, Samuel was supposedly the model student.

"I'm fine," Rowan said. "I'm just trying to figure this out."

[Wednesday, December 15th, 2032]

"Are you boys doing alright?" asked Samuel's sister. Her name was Lana, and she went to the same school as both of them but was a senior. She was also a model student and was already accepted into Boston College. She had short ginger hair and also wore glasses, just like Samuel. Lana also stood tall at 5'11" and had played basketball before she quit during the start of her senior year.

"We're fine," replied Samuel, who had been rushing to finish up a homework packet.

The café was quiet, as not many people were present. It was raining heavily, and not many people entered, even if it was the evening. Including the three of them, there were around eight people in a café that could hold up to twenty-six. Samuel had regularly flicked his pen, making a clicking noise to indicate his boredom, which his sister always picked up on. Plopping right on the table were two nicely made lattes with distorted art due to his sister's insignificant skill in making latte art. The steam flew up, which caught both Rowan and Samuel's attention.

"Take a break, boys," she insisted. "You've been at it since the end of school."

"Easy for you to say," Samuel sighed. "You're some wicked genius. You got some ability you want to tell us about?"

His sister laughed, showing all of her teeth in the mix. Rowan had a small crush on her, but it wasn't to be interested in. Both Samuel and Rowan laughed at the way Lana acted toward the question. The other people in the café weren't bothered, as the small number were old people enjoying their coffee while waiting out the roar of weather that was unexpectedly forecasted. With that came another silent moment when Lana went back behind the counter and prepared for any other customers. Her co-worker, Brittany, was an airhead and always needed help when it came to making anything food-related. This was Lana's specialty, so whenever she couldn't speak to them, she'd be restoring order from behind the counter. She was a model worker and a model student, and she knew her worth.

Rowan had realized how amazing she was since they were both younger. At first, she was very overprotective with Samuel, but as time eased on, she soon accepted Rowan into their small family.

"Two scoops of salt," Samuel stated. "That's my go-to."

"I always put three," Rowan replied. "But sometimes I don't put anything."

"Really?" Samuel shrieked in disgust. "Isn't it bitter?"

"Well," Rowan sighed. "My dad usually makes it in the morning, and I usually follow off of him."

Samuel sipped on the warm latte and got a foam moustache after placing the cup down. He looked at the homework packet he had partially finished and began sighing quietly. Rowan understood that he didn't want to study or do homework anymore. The two of them relaxed, watching the rain violently smack against the window that they both sat next to.

Then Samuel started twitching.

[Friday, December 17th, 2032]

"Samuel," Rowan called out.

Samuel looked behind him as he adjusted his backpack and held his umbrella firmly so it wouldn't violently blow away with all the wind and rain that was coming down. He had his glasses fully pressed on his face and was scrunching his face because of the amount of rain that smacked on him, even with his umbrella. Rowan had walked up to him and patted him on the back. Today was going to be a very long day before a nice weekend to finally relax. Samuel had been stressed out lately, and Rowan and Lana could tell.

During their first and second periods, they had tests they had to do. Rowan, who rarely finished a test quickly, was very quick in terms of finishing for these two. He had studied and took the advice Samuel had given him the other day. For Samuel, he took longer than he needed to. They both thought they did well, but only time will tell. Samuel was still stressed as they walked to their third-period class.

"What is it?" Rowan asked. "Why do you seem so down lately?"

"Ah, I'm just tired, that's all," Samuel muttered.

Rowan looked at him while walking down the hall. They didn't have the same third-period class, but it was in the same hall.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Rowan asked. He got no response from Samuel, who had seemed off lately. His emotions have changed ever since the incident at the café. He couldn't stop, which was the scariest part for everyone who watched. At first, they thought it was a seizure, but as it worsened, they ended up calling the ambulance. Rowan had gone to Samuel's house yesterday to check up on him, as Samuel wanted to study for the test. He was discharged a few hours after entering the hospital and had felt a little better. He explained that he had no idea what happened to him, and everything was clear, but no one could hear him speak, and everyone had frozen up.

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Now Samuel walked with Rowan down the hall. He was still on edge as they neared Rowan's classroom.

"Cya at lunch," Rowan smiled. "Feel better, man."

Samuel just mumbled as he looked around the half-empty hall. He patted Rowan on the shoulder and smiled a creepy, forced smile that made Rowan skeptical. "I'll be fine," he kept repeating, even when Rowan didn't ask how he felt.

*Booop*

The atmosphere between them felt stale. Third period was quiet as the rain patted hard on the window. Rowan gazed out the window. All that could be seen was the street and trees near houses. It wasn't a good view from the second floor of his school. Nevertheless, he still looked out of it every day. Rowan had no friends in his third period class, and no friends in his fourth either. It wasn't that no one wanted to talk to him; he loved talking to people. But he just couldn't keep up a full conversation. Still, when someone needed help, he'd be there for them. Many people see him as a friend, but for him, there's no connection.

"Rowan?" asked Ms. Scotcha. "You with me?"

"Yes," Rowan responded.

"Alright, good," she smiled. "Now we'll get back—"

*Fshhhkfoooom*

[War in Back Bay]

"Attention, Attention... This is a code gray alert. Evacuate the building immediately!" screamed the automated voice over the distorted speakers.

*Errrrrrn - Errrrrrrrn*

The low-pitched alarm blared throughout the dark room as Rowan got up slowly, waking up from being knocked unconscious. The alarms continued to go off with the occasional notification from the automated voice. A few feet ahead of him, toward the windows, was a gaping hole covered in black smoke. The whole classroom was initially covered. Rowan's right arm was bleeding badly, and the right side of his face was constantly dripping blood. He was partially blind for the time being as he slowly made his way toward the door. A pool of blood lay still on the floor as he finally realized what had happened.

Looking all around him, the limbs and restless bodies of his fellow classmates lie still. His eyes widened at the site as the alarms still blared in his ear.

"Ro-Rowan," whispered a deep voice. "You, please help me."

"Who is that?" he asked. "Where are you?"

The smoke from the window was now rising toward the ceiling. It was getting harder for him to see. Rowan held his right arm so the pain wouldn't get to him. He stepped over bodies as he moved a desk. Another voice came from behind him as well. The boy who was stuck was named Carter, and although Rowan didn't see him as a friend, he always spoke to Rowan. Carter was popular in the class, mainly due to his height. He was small for his age, and he knew it. He never let it get to him, but even when he was picked on, he held his ground. Carter had a buzz cut and had dark skin. He was smart when it came to anything chemistry-related, and he wanted to be a chemist when he grew up.

Two desks were lying on top of him. His face could be seen facing the whiteboard in front of the class. Rowan used his left arm to lift off one of the desks. After doing so, he stepped back, completely disgusted. With tears finally rolling down his eyes.

"What the fuck!" he silently screamed. "What the fuck!"

"What's wrong?" asked Carter. "Why am I so cold?"

Carter's lower half of his body was completely torn. His hips and feet were detached and were nowhere to be seen. His organs were showing, which caused Rowan to completely cover up his body again. When he went up to Carter's face, he realized that he had already died.

The smoke had lowered, and looking around, he stumbled upon a boy who was badly wounded. He was still breathing but was very weak. Rowan picked him up and slowly walked out of the room. The door creaked open, and a rush of hot air from the hallway blew in both of their faces. The boy who was being helped was named James. He was a tall, skinny boy with a tan. He wore a beanie on his head, and his sweater was torn up. He had wounds all over his body and was creating a blood trail in the hallway. He looked down at the ground and never looked up. The hallway was on fire, and the bodies of students created a line as they headed toward the staircase.

A stomping noise echoed throughout the hallway as a young girl came running quickly in their direction. She gave no warning of anything as she ran past them. Her face was partially covered in third-degree burns as she stumbled and fell to the ground behind the two boys. Rowan turned around to see that her back was completely charred. Turning back around, he moved further down the hall, stepping over bodies. His arm was still in pain and partially bleeding, but the wound on his head had stopped producing blood. He felt tired, but he wanted to continue. He had only two thoughts in his head that he kept repeating. "Will I make it out alive?" and "I want my family."

Once they reached the doors leading into the staircase, Rowan pushed through, tripping over more bodies as he stumbled down the steps, landing on other bodies for cushioning. The boy he had been carrying flung out of his grip and stumbled down the steps, lying in a scrunched-up position.

"Stay down," whispered someone next to him. "The safety division is here."

Rowan was lying on top of a dead person's body as he lay still. A loud knocking noise that sounded like high heels came from down the stairs. A woman in a blue suit had been chasing someone. The girl she was chasing had turned in towards the stairs and started running up them quickly. A big sharp disk flew past Rowan, slicing the girl in half, causing her torso to fall cleanly off, and landing a few feet behind Rowan. She was still mumbling even after being cut in half. It was as if she was pleading that she wasn't evil. The sound of her sobbing reached the ears of a few students who were pretending to be lifeless.

"I'm- just— a student," she whispered loudly before everything fell silent.

"My side is clear," the lady radioed. "The necromancer might've gotten away. I'll look for her closely."

Once the lady left, a minute passed before someone lifted their head up. He looked up the stairs and back down before calling out if anyone was alive.

"See why I told you to stay down," the voice said. A boy lifted a body off of him, fixing his hair and looking at the other boy. "Those guys have been killing us too, ya know."

A few more people got up from the debris of dead bodies lying on the stairs. Blood was covering all over them—some traumatized, the others pissed. Rowan got up, holding his arm, as the boy who saved him wrapped a shirt around both his head and arm wounds. Rowan darted his eyes at James, the boy he had been helping. He was still alive as tears rolled down his eyes. He was turning pale and needed medical attention.

"Right, does anyone have an ability?" asked the first boy. His name was Titus, and he had a buzz cut and was wearing a blue polo shirt with khaki pants. He was in 9th grade and was one of the oldest on the staircase. He was an average-height black boy who played tennis and ultimate frisbee for the school.

Titus was going to lead them out of this hell. Him and his ragtag group of 7th, 8th, and 9th graders. Rowan's memories were finally racing toward his modern self, finally understanding the situation fully.