When I asked the question, "Teacher, is there a god?" he chuckled and answered, "Well, Axel, there’s gotta be someone responsible for all this shitshow, right?" I still remember that day, how that small moment shaped my childhood. When I was bullied, I believed that God would punish them, that I’d be rewarded for enduring it all. But as I grew older, I realized how naive that thinking was. Eventually, I asked myself, "What if there’s no one?"
I lowered my head onto the desk, eyes shutting to the hum of classroom chatter around me.
The room buzzed with students talking among themselves, their conversations overlapping each other. A girl with her hair in loose braids whispered something to her friend across the aisle. Nearby, a group of boys laughed a little too loudly, their desks cluttered with open books from the previous lesson. Sunlight filtered weakly through the cloudy windows, casting a soft glow that seemed at odds with the noise.
"You heard what happened?" one girl said to her friend, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. "He failed at math. Again."
"Shh. He’ll hear you," her friend replied, stifling a giggle.
Thankfully, they weren't talking about me. With my dull expression and a presence so forgettable, I doubted they even knew my name. Honestly, I couldn't blame them; I only knew the teacher’s name myself.
"Hey, Ax," James called out, dropping into the seat next to me with a grin. "You look rough."
"Hmm." I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "Worked late hours.”
“You really should stop that.” He said. “Hey, you heard what’s going to happen today? It’s awesome.”
“I’ll earn millions of dollars?”
“Better than that.” He replied. “You know the story of the lost school, right? I even sent you a mail about it yesterday.”
“Mail?” I asked. “How old are you, sixty?”
It was a made-up tale about this school where, 100 years ago, in 1930, all the students and their teacher mysteriously vanished. And today marked the centenary of that event. They said it happened one evening after classes ended, coinciding with some rare alignment of the stars---bla, bla. Just a story to scare children, I guess.
“Stop believing in fairy tales, James.”
“Ah, shut up. It’s exciting to think it could be real.”
James was one of the few names I remembered in this class. He had this oddly approachable vibe—like he could charm his way out of hell straight into heaven. With his natural blond hair, sharp features, and that effortlessly warm smile, it wasn’t surprising he was popular with the girls. But his gaze always seemed to drift to one person—Ada, the quiet girl at the back, who also happened to be my childhood friend.
He pulled out a biology book from his bag, setting it on his desk with a thump. Two rows behind us, Ada sat by the window, her eyes distant, staring out at the gray sky.
Our school uniform was simple: Ada and the other girls wore a navy blue pleated skirt with a white blouse, the collar and cuffs lined with a subtle shade of blue that matched the school crest. The boys, including James and me, were dressed in matching navy blue trousers, white shirts, and blazers with the same crest embroidered on the pocket.
"Man…" James sighed, his eyes never leaving Ada. "I wanna talk to her."
I didn’t respond, just leaned back into my chair, eyes half-open as I stared at the ceiling. My body ached from yesterday’s shift—working as a waiter in the city's busiest district was no joke, but at least the pay was good. I’d finally saved enough to upgrade my old phone which had a cracked screen.
Seeing James still watching Ada, I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. My hands slipped into my pockets as I settled back, waiting for the teacher to show up. Outside, dark clouds loomed overhead, a light drizzle tapping against the window panes. Just hours earlier, the ground had been blanketed in snow, and now it was soaked. Krenda's weather always seemed to defy logic, shifting from winter's chill to a spring-like dampness in the blink of an eye.
"Come on, say something," James groaned, nudging my arm. "Don't just grunt and lean back like that."
"What do you want me to say?" I asked, my tone dull.
"Tell me I should talk to her."
"You should talk to her.”
James squeezed the bridge of his nose, frustration clear in his expression. "Ugh... You're as dense as you look, Ax."
"Hmm.”
The teacher entered the classroom, a stern look on his face as he scanned the room. The moment he stepped in, the buzz of chatter died down, and everyone returned to their desks, sitting straight and quiet. Today wasn’t just any ordinary day—it was the day we’d finally find out how we did in the biology test. The tension was almost tangible; one could see it in the way everyone held their breath, eyes flicking nervously toward the front.
Ms. Carter shook her head, adjusting her glasses as she scanned the rows of students. Her expression was hard to read, but it was clear she wasn’t pleased—it was almost like she was silently scolding us all. Being in the F-class, the so-called "worst of the worst," failing was always on the table.
"All of you failed," she announced, her voice clipped and stern. "Even you, Ada. I’m disappointed in you."
Gasps and mutters spread through the room. "We all failed?" a student mumbled in disbelief. "Wow…"
Ms. Carter didn’t let the chatter last long. "This calls for a punishment," she continued. "I spoke with Mr. Soon, and he agreed to my proposal."
"Proposal?" James muttered under his breath, his brows furrowing.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"You will all attend an extra biology lesson after school," Ms. Carter stated, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "It’ll last 45 minutes."
A wave of groans rippled through the class. James let out a sigh of resignation, Ada simply rested her chin on her palms, her eyes steady on Ms. Carter. It must’ve taken an impressive amount of failure for all of us to bomb an exam this thoroughly, so the extra lesson didn’t feel like an overreaction. Still, I’d have to let my boss know I'd be late to work, and he'd definitely dock my pay for it.
"Now," Ms. Carter continued, her voice slicing through the remaining murmurs, "open your books to page 231. And if I hear any more talking, you’ll be looking at another punishment."
"Great," James grumbled under his breath, shaking his head. "This sucks, Ax. Seriously sucks."
"Mm." I muttered, flipping to the page without much energy. "It does."
"But hey, that means Ada's gonna be here after school too, right?" His tone perked up a bit, and his eyes flicked toward her. "Maybe I can finally get a conversation going with her?"
"Yeah, you do that, James," I said flatly, my voice lacking enthusiasm. "I’m sure you’ll sweep her off her feet."
"Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you, Ax…" he muttered, sounding both amused and defeated.
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As the last bell rang, signaling the end of our regular lessons, most students gathered at the windows, watching others leave the school grounds. I walked to the far end of the classroom, fishing out my phone to call my boss. After a few rings, he picked up, sounding annoyed even before he spoke.
"Hey, Ms. Olim," I said, keeping my tone even. "I, uh, won’t make it to work today. Got an extra lesson 'cause—"
"Okay, scar-head," he cut me off brusquely. "It’ll come out of your paycheck."
"Yes, sir," I replied, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Thanks."
"Uh-huh," he muttered before hanging up.
"Scar-head? Jerk," I said under my breath, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
"Talking to yourself?" Ada’s voice came from beside me, her presence sudden yet somehow calm.
"My boss," I replied, meeting her eyes for a moment. "Let him know I’m gonna be late."
Ada’s dark brown hair was styled into a pixie cut, sharp and neat, framing her face in a way that highlighted her high cheekbones. She was medium-height, her posture always slightly slouched, but there was a certain alertness in her dark eyes, like she was always half a step ahead of the conversation.
"I'm thinking of just… sneaking out," Ada said, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Pretend I’m sick or something."
"Hey!" James appeared, practically bouncing over. "Ax! And, uh, Ada. Hi!"
"Hey," Ada said, giving him a polite nod. "James, right?"
"Yeah!" He grinned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Surprised you remember my name."
"I’m not like Axel," she teased lightly. "I’ve got enough room in my brain to remember a few names."
"Har-har," I deadpanned, already moving back to my desk. "Gonna catch some shut-eye."
Settling in my seat, I put my head down, hoping to nap, but sleep just wouldn’t come. I shifted, leaned back, sipped some water, even put on my headphones—nothing worked. Finally, I pulled out a book I’d borrowed from James and started reading. Outside, the weather turned gloomier, dark clouds casting a heavy shadow over the school as the last few students trickled out, and the security guard closed the front gates, retreating into his booth.
All the while, James kept rambling to Ada, never quite managing to bring up anything that seemed to interest her. He went on about random topics, and when Ada finally excused herself, returning to her seat, he sank into his chair with a sigh.
"Hey, Ax," James said, looking utterly defeated. "I think I might be an idiot."
"And the sky is blue," I mumbled, not even looking up from my book.
"I talked about the stock market!" He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Told her she should tell her parents to invest in Kiroma shares… Ax, her parents are fucking dead. I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you tell me?"
"Never asked," I replied calmly, turning the page. "Could’ve been worse, though, right?"
He slumped further into his chair. "Man… do you think I upset her?"
Before I could answer, the door opened, and our biology teacher walked in, a serious look on her face. I straightened up, tucking my book back into my bag as the rest of the students fell silent, eyes fixed on Ms. Carter.
"You might see this as a punishment," Ms. Carter said, standing confidently in front of the blackboard. "But in reality, this is an opportunity for you to get better. I’m not going to sugarcoat it—you might be in F-class, the worst of the second years, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to try.”
Ms. Carter was in her mid-twenties, strikingly beautiful with a kind of elegance that seemed out of place in our dull classroom. Her long chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her sharp green eyes carried a mix of disappointment and determination as she spoke, like she genuinely believed we could do better if we tried. It was hard to find these types of teachers in this day and age…
As two minutes passed, James let out a bored sigh and started twirling his pen between his fingers, his attention clearly drifting away. It was obvious he'd had enough of school for today—just like everyone else in the class, myself included.
"Well…" James leaned in, lowering his voice. "How’s life at home?"
"Ms. Carter’s gonna notice," I muttered. "Don’t talk."
"We’re whispering; she won’t even notice," he insisted, a small grin on his face.
I shot him a look of exasperation. "James, seriously. Just zip it, okay? I don’t wanna—"
"Mr. Millo," Ms. Carter's voice cut through the air like a blade, her gaze landing sharply on me. "What could possibly be so important that you need to discuss it with your friend right now?"
"I, uh—" I stammered, feeling my face flush. "I was just telling him I’m feeling a bit under the weather, ma’am. Could I go to the restroom for a minute?"
Ms. Carter narrowed her eyes, skepticism clear. "Under the weather, is it?" she repeated. "Fine. You may go. But be quick about it."
"Yes, Ms. Carter. Thank you," I replied, throwing a sidelong glance at James, who tried to hide a smirk.
As I exited the classroom, I heard a few students snickering under their breath. Ignoring them, I shut the door behind me and let out a long sigh, heading down the quiet corridors. The emptiness made the place feel almost eerie, the kind of silence that makes you second-guess every step you take. If I believed in ghosts, I'd probably have turned on my heel and gone straight back to class.
I pushed open the door to the restroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My brown hair was a mess, and dark circles clung under my eyes like permanent shadows. I wasn’t exactly handsome, but I wasn’t ugly either—just another forgettable face in the crowd.
Turning on the faucet, I splashed cold water on my face, the chill jolting me slightly awake. I took another glance in the mirror, shaking my head. "What a hassle…" I muttered to myself.
Just as I was about to leave, a flash of bright red light caught my attention through a nearby window. I tried to ignore it at first, but curiosity got the best of me. Changing direction, I moved toward the window, peering outside.
What I saw made my blood run cold—a massive black sphere hovering in the sky, its surface twisted and veiny, as if it were alive, pulsating with some sickly movement. It didn't belong here; it looked like something ripped straight out of a nightmare.
I blinked, and in that heartbeat of a moment, the sphere transformed into a grotesque eye. It snapped open, staring right back at me.
"What in the…?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, disbelief tightening in my chest.
Before I could react, I felt something cold and unnatural beneath my feet. My eyes darted downward, and I saw a dark, swirling hole expanding on the floor, like ink spreading in water. I looked back at the window, and everything outside was suddenly normal again, as if the giant eye had never existed.
Panic surged through me as shadowy hands emerged from the hole, their fingers coated in some kind of dripping black goo. They clutched my legs, yanking me down with a strength that felt otherworldly.
"Help!" I shouted, my voice breaking with fear. "Somebody! Help!"
But my cries were swallowed by the silence. My struggles were useless as the hands pulled me deeper into the abyss, my fingers clawing at the floor in desperation.
Then, as my entire body was engulfed by the darkness, everything went pitch black. I was falling into the void, sure I was done for—gone. And for the first time in my life, I hoped my teacher was right; that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there responsible for all this shitshow.