Story 1232: Corpse in the Classroom

The classroom was wrong.

It wasn’t the smell—though the stench of mildew and dried rot was overpowering. Nor was it the cold, unnatural stillness that hung in the air like invisible frost.

It was the desk.

One of them was occupied.

Lena froze in the doorway. The sunlight from the shattered window painted long, skeletal shadows across the tile. In the center of it all sat a figure—slumped, rigid, and disturbingly intact.

A corpse.

It wore a tattered school uniform, its hands folded neatly on the desk like a child waiting for roll call. The head was tilted back slightly, mouth agape in a frozen gasp. Its eyes, wide open, were cloudy but fixated on the chalkboard.

Someone—or something—had drawn smiling faces on all the desks except the one it sat at. That desk was scratched with words etched deeply into the wood:

“Still watching.”