CREEPY

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp stone and old wood through the dormitory corridors. The large Roman-style windows let in soft golden light, casting long, angular shadows across the stone walls. Despite last night's terror, the school had woken up as if nothing had happened.

The moment the wake-up bell rang, the dormitory erupted into chaos. Girls scrambled out of bed, some groggy and barely awake, others already arguing over the bathroom. The scent of soap and shampoo mixed with the sharp, medicinal scent of the old wooden floors.

Tasha sat on her bed, hugging her knees, still shaken by the images from last night. The blood. The twisted bodies. The way the crowd whispered in horrified fascination. She shivered.

"Still thinking about it?"

She looked up to see Lina standing over her, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. Naomi was behind her, brushing her long black hair.

"You ran so fast last night, I almost thought you'd break the sound barrier," Naomi teased, her voice light. "The gateman was calling after you, but you didn't even hear him!"

Tasha glared at them. "I saw two people butchered in the street! You think that's funny? I can't even hear myself breath"

Naomi chuckled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "No, no, but you have to admit, you made it dramatic. You burst into the room like a horror movie final girl. If you had screamed, I swear Grimshaw would have kicked the door down thinking a demon got in."

Tasha rolled her eyes. "Ha. Ha."

Lina plopped down beside her, draping an arm over her shoulder. "Okay, okay, we'll stop. But seriously, are you okay?"

Tasha hesitated before nodding. "Yeah… I guess."

"Good. Now hurry up and get dressed before breakfast runs out."

The dormitory continued its morning madness, but to Tasha, something felt off. Even as she moved through the routine—brushing her teeth, buttoning her uniform, tying her shoes—there was an uneasy weight in the air.

Something was watching her.

The trio made their way down the stone corridors, their footsteps echoing against the high ceilings. The school felt normal—students chatting, papers shuffling, the occasional distant laughter.

Yet, as they passed the old library, Tasha's breath hitched.

A shadow. Just for a second. Moving inside.

She stopped, staring through the glass-paneled door. The library was dimly lit, rows of towering bookshelves stretching into darkness. Nothing moved.

Lina noticed her hesitation. "Tasha?"

Tasha blinked. "I… I thought I saw someone inside."

Naomi peered in. "It's probably just the librarian creeping around. You know he moves like a haunted mannequin."

Lina snorted. "Yeah, let's go before he jumps out and scolds us for breathing too close to his books."

Tasha forced a laugh and walked on, but the sensation didn't fade.

Something was wrong.

By the time they arrived at class, the tension in Tasha's chest had eased—at least, until their teacher walked in.

Mr. Halloway, the school's most chaotic instructor, entered with the kind of energy that immediately made students sit up. His tie was slightly crooked, his sleeves rolled up as if he had been fighting for his life moments ago, and he carried a stack of books that looked like they might collapse at any second.

"Good morning, my unfortunate victims!" he bellowed, slamming the books onto his desk. "Today, we suffer through another thrilling episode of 'How to Survive Academia Without Losing Your Soul!'"

The class chuckled.

Tasha let out a relieved breath. This was exactly what she needed.

"Now!" Mr. Halloway pointed dramatically at the blackboard. "Before we begin, who can tell me why I am absolutely done with life today?"

Several students raised their hands.

"You woke up and realized you were still a teacher?"

"Your coffee machine broke?"

"Grimshaw spoke to you this morning?"

The last one earned a collective groan from the class. The headmistress had that effect on people.

"Ah, I see we have some geniuses among us," Mr. Halloway said, pacing. "But no, my dear scholars of suffering, it is far worse than that!" He dramatically leaned against his desk. "My cat knocked over my research papers at exactly 3:00 AM, and I had to reassemble my life before coming here. Moral of the story—never trust a cute face."

Mr. Halloway marched to the blackboard like a general preparing for battle. He grabbed a piece of chalk, held it up as if it were a divine instrument, and began scribbling furiously. The sound of chalk scratching against the board sent a shiver through the classroom, but the students were used to his theatrics.

"For those of you who were mentally absent yesterday," he declared, spinning dramatically, "today we shall revisit the cursed subject of history!"

The class groaned in unison.

"Ah, yes, groan away! Let the despair fuel you!" He pointed at a random student. "You! When was the Battle of Agincourt?"

The boy stammered. "Uh… 1415?"

Mr. Halloway gasped, clutching his chest. "You… you actually studied?" He staggered backward, pretending to faint against his desk. "My faith in humanity is restored!"

The class burst into laughter.

"But!" He snapped back upright. "That was an easy one! Let's try something harder." He turned to Tasha. "Miss Monroe! You look suspiciously quiet. Tell me, who was the first ruler of the Holy Roman Empire?"

Tasha blinked. She knew this one. "Charlemagne?"

Mr. Halloway froze. The room fell silent. He slowly removed his glasses, wiping them dramatically.

"My word," he whispered. "Two students… in one class… who actually remembered something?" He turned to the ceiling. "Have the heavens finally answered my prayers?"

Another round of laughter erupted.

"Now," he continued, "before I get too excited and start weeping tears of joy, let's move on to something a bit more challenging."

For the next thirty minutes, the lesson continued in Mr. Halloway's usual chaotic fashion. He mimicked historical figures, reenacted battles using chairs as shields, and even attempted an impromptu sword fight using rulers.

At one point, he clambered onto a chair, raised a book like a sword, and shouted, "For Sparta!" before nearly toppling over.

"Sir, please get down before Grimshaw hears about this," one student pleaded.

"You think Grimshaw can scare me?" Mr. Halloway scoffed. "I've stared into the abyss! I've graded midterm essays written in crayon! I fear nothing!"

That was a lie. Everyone feared Grimshaw.

By the time the bell rang, the class was exhausted—from both laughing and the sheer chaos of the lesson.

As students filed out, Mr. Halloway dramatically collapsed onto his desk. "Go, my children. Live your lives. Be free… until tomorrow, when we suffer again!"

Tasha, Lina, and Naomi were still giggling as they walked to the cafeteria.

"Honestly," Naomi said, wiping a tear from her eye, "if all teachers were like him, I'd actually want to study."

Lina smirked. "Yeah, but I think the school board is just barely tolerating his existence."

Tasha nodded. "One day, Grimshaw's going to walk in and drag him out by his tie."

The cafeteria was its usual mess of noise and movement. The smell of bread, soup, and something vaguely burnt lingered in the air. They grabbed their trays and found their usual spot.

Naomi took a bite of her food and sighed. "Okay, so, important topic—did you guys hear about Alexander and Celeste?"

Lina raised an eyebrow. "What about them?"

Naomi leaned in. "Apparently, they had a huge fight last night. Like, screaming in the hallways kind of fight. Some say Celeste slapped him."

Tasha blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yup. Something about him flirting with another girl."

Lina scoffed. "Well, that's no surprise. Alexander has the loyalty of a hungry dog."

Tasha frowned, poking at her food. "Still… Celeste doesn't seem like the type to make a scene."

"Exactly! That's what makes it interesting." Naomi grinned. "Ooooh, and speaking of interesting—Tasha, did you see the way Collins looked at you today?"

Tasha nearly choked. "W-What?!"

Lina smirked. "Yeah, Naomi's right. He definitely glanced your way more than once."

Tasha's face burned. "You guys are imagining things."

Naomi gasped, clutching her heart. "She's blushing!"

Lina nudged her. "Ohhh, Tasha has a crush!"

"Stop it!" Tasha hissed, covering her face.

Naomi laughed. "Relax! It's not a crime to like someone. Besides, you could do worse."

Tasha groaned, trying to change the subject. "Can we not make me the topic of gossip?"

"Fine, fine," Lina said, waving a hand. "But if Collins asks you out, you have to tell us immediately."

As they continued their lighthearted chatter, someone approached their table.

The air shifted. The laughter faded.

It was a student Tasha barely knew. Pale, quiet, her deep-set eyes carrying an odd emptiness.

She stood there, silent, before speaking.

"Be careful."

Tasha frowned. "What?"

The girl's gaze locked onto hers. "Just… be careful." Her voice was distant, almost mechanical.

Naomi blinked. "Uh… be careful of what?"

The girl didn't answer. Instead, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

A cold shiver ran down Tasha's spine.

Lina and Naomi exchanged looks.

"That was weird," Naomi muttered.

Lina frowned. "She's not usually like that."

Tasha swallowed, unease creeping back in.