THE GIRL

Clay awoke to a sharp slap across his face. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but quick and jarring enough to fully rouse him. Groggily opening his eyes, he found Nathan standing over him, impatience written all over his face.

"Get up," Nathan hissed, his voice low but commanding. Behind him stood his two remaining goons, their faces stern and unreadable.

"Why?" Clay mumbled, still half-asleep. His body felt heavy, and his steps were sluggish as Nathan grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet, practically dragging him forward.

It took a few disoriented steps for the grogginess to clear. When Clay realized they were heading toward the door, his heart dropped. He stumbled, suddenly wide awake, panic flashing in his eyes.

"W-Why are we going to the door?" he whispered, his voice trembling. The faint breaths of Nathan behind him sent shivers down his spine.

"Check if it's clear outside," Nathan ordered, his tone cold and menacing.

Clay glanced back at the sleeping students, including Ms. Shirley, slumped over the table, oblivious to the unfolding tension. His stomach churned with dread.

"This is dangerous, Nathan. We can't do this," he whispered, the fear evident in his voice.

"Shut up," Nathan growled, grabbing Clay by the shoulder and shoving him closer to the door. "I'm not rotting in here like a coward. I'm getting out".

Clay's hands trembled as he stammered, "W-why me?" He asked stupidly. He already knew the answer but hoped that he was wrong.

Nathan let out a dark chuckle, yanking Clay's head back by his hair. "Why you?" he sneered. "Because you're the bait, obviously."

Clay's breath hitched, panic gripping him like a vice. "I—I don't want to. It's too dangerous. If we open this door, we'll all die—"

"You know who's gonna die?" Nathan snarled, smacking Clay hard on the back of the head. "You will, if you don't do what I say."

Clay's knees buckled, but he couldn't think of a way to stop Nathan. He couldn't let him open the door. Not like this. Not when there were still people sleeping, trusting that the door would stay shut.

"What are you doing?"

The soft, breathless voice made them all freeze. Turning, they saw the girl with pigtails standing behind them, her face pale and drenched with sweat. She was trembling, her breaths shallow and erratic.

Nathan scowled. "Shut up if you don't want to get hurt," he snapped.

Her eyes narrowed despite her fatigue. "Are you trying to open the door?" Her voice rose, panic lacing her words. "You could get us all killed!"

Nathan stiffened, glancing nervously at the sleeping students. Without hesitation, he stormed over to her, grabbing her face with one hand and leaning in close.

"Keep your voice down, little bitch," he hissed. "Unless you want me to make you shut up permanently."

She swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me!" she spat, glaring at him. "If you open that door, those things will get in here and kill us all. Are you insane?"

Nathan opened his mouth to retort but suddenly stopped, his gaze locking on her. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the scratch on her ear, a thin line of dried blood staining her skin. His lips curled into a mocking grin.

"Well, well," he drawled, taking a step back. "You've been infected this whole time, haven't you?"

The girl's face drained of all color. She instinctively touched her ear, her fingers coming away smeared with blood. "N-No," she stammered, shaking her head violently. "It's just a scratch! I'm fine! I'm not infected!"

The commotion woke the others. Groggy students sat up, confusion quickly turning to alarm as Nathan pointed at the girl.

"She's infected!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"No, I'm not!" she cried, her voice breaking. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Her protests grew desperate, her words barely coherent as panic overtook her. She met Clay's eyes, her face crumpling at the sight of his expression—fear and pity mingled in equal measure.

Clay couldn't hold her gaze. He looked away, guilt gnawing at his insides.

"Get her out of here!" someone yelled, the growing hysteria in the room contagious. Ms. Shirley stood frozen, horror etched into her features, silently berating herself for not being more vigilant.

The girl staggered back, her breathing growing ragged. Her hands shook as she stared at her arms, now streaked with bulging veins. Blood trickled from her nose, and she clawed at her hair in frustration and despair.

"It's not fair!" she wailed. "I don't want this!" Her voice cracked

Clay's heart pounded as the girl with pigtails collapsed to the floor, her entire body shaking violently. The students backed away, forming a semi-circle at the far end of the room, their faces pale and stricken with terror. The air grew thick with tension, their shallow breaths the only sound against the oppressive silence.

She writhed on the cold floor, her body twisting unnaturally. Her back arched so sharply that her chest lifted off the ground, her limbs jerking in sporadic, grotesque movements. Sweat drenched her skin, glistening under the dim light, as veins began to bulge and darken, spreading like ink beneath her pale flesh.

"Help me!" she gasped, her voice cracking with desperation. Her hand clawed weakly at the floor, reaching for someone—anyone. But no one moved. No one dared.

Clay's stomach churned as he watched her bones contort, snapping audibly with each violent spasm. Her neck twisted at an unnatural angle, her jaw slackening as blood trickled from her nose. Her fingers bent backward, the joints audibly cracking as her nails darkened and sharpened into claw-like tips.

"It hurts!" she shrieked, her voice guttural and hoarse, no longer fully human. Her head slammed against the floor, her back arching once more as if her body was fighting against itself. Her teeth clenched so hard that a tooth cracked, the sharp snap echoing in the room. Her eyes, once filled with fear and humanity, began to glaze over, the pupils dilating until they seemed to engulf the whites entirely.

"Do something!" one of the students screamed, their voice cracking in panic. But no one dared to move closer. Even Ms. Shirley stood frozen, clutching her phone uselessly, her eyes wide with horror.

The girl let out a guttural cry, her head jerking violently to the side. Her veins now pulsated visibly beneath her skin, her body trembling as if it were being torn apart from the inside. Her chest heaved, her breathing ragged and erratic. Then she froze, her body unnaturally still, her head tilted at an odd angle.

The room held its collective breath, the silence deafening.

Clay's heart hammered in his chest as he stared at her lifeless body. He felt an overwhelming wave of pity and guilt wash over him. This girl—this kind, helpful girl who had offered him water just hours ago—was gone. He swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight.

And then, her eyes snapped open.

They weren't human anymore. Her irises were a dull, cloudy white, her pupils unnaturally wide, giving her a predatory, otherworldly look. Her head twitched as her nostrils flared, sniffing the air. Slowly, she began to rise, her movements jerky and unnatural, like a marionette being pulled by unseen strings.

Clay couldn't move. His legs felt rooted to the spot as she straightened to her full height. Her lips curled into a grotesque grin, revealing bloodstained teeth. Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth, her head tilting slightly as she regarded the group with a disturbing, almost playful curiosity.

"Stay back," someone whispered, their voice trembling.

The girl tilted her head further, as though amused by the fear emanating from the corner of the room. Her breaths came in short, rapid bursts, her chest rising and falling erratically. Then she opened her mouth wide—far wider than any human should be able to—her jaw cracking as it unhinged slightly. Saliva dripped freely now, pooling on the floor beneath her.

A guttural growl emanated from deep within her throat, building into a horrifying snarl. And then she lunged.

Her target, a boy too slow to react, let out a bloodcurdling scream as she tackled him to the ground. Her teeth sank into his shoulder, tearing through flesh with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the floor as the boy thrashed and screamed, his cries quickly turning to gurgles as she bit down again, this time on his neck.

Chaos erupted.

Students screamed and shoved each other, scrambling to escape the frenzied attack. Desks and chairs toppled over as the room devolved into panic. The infected girl, now drenched in blood, turned her attention to the next nearest person, her movements fast and predatory.

" Fuck! Move! " someone yelled, their voice barely audible over the chaos.

"Save me!" another screamed.

More students fell, each bite spreading the infection like wildfire. Those who were bitten turned within moments, their own bodies convulsing and twisting, joining the chaos in horrifying succession. The once-safe room became a battlefield of screams, growls, and desperate cries for help.

Clay pressed himself against the wall, his chest heaving as he watched the scene unfold. His mind raced, screaming at him to do something—to run, to help, to move. But his body betrayed him, leaving him paralyzed with fear.