Spoon fed

AN: sorry for the late update, will upload two chapters, enjoy :)

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Ella stared, her heart racing. Do I know him? The thought flickered through her mind, but she hated to admit it. Those eyes... she'd never forget them. But who was he?

She shook her head, as though trying to clear the fog creeping into her thoughts. Wait—were those eyes glowing blue, or am I insane? Her stomach churned as she scanned the yard, trying to make sense of it. Why is nobody else panicking about this?

Her gaze shifted back to him. Killian's eyes, intense and unblinking, locked onto hers. There was something magnetic about him—like gravity pulling at her, drawing her in. The way he held her gaze felt... unnerving. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was lost in a trance. But no—Killiam was fully aware of his surroundings and the scariest part, he wasn't exacy aware he was staring at Ella like Ella had been alarmed to think.

"I am," he began, his voice booming through the eerie silence of the schoolyard, " actually name is irrelevant to you people, and so is my military standing. However, there's something I must say—something you need to hear. So listen carefully." His voice cut through the thick tension in the air, sending chills through the students. They stood, blank-faced, like their collective subconscious had been stripped away, leaving them numb from the trauma they'd just witnessed.

"To be honest…" Killian continued, his eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze hardened as he noticed the students' faces twisted with horror. He sneered inwardly but carried on, a calculated malice in his words.

"We don't want spoon-fed students. The kind who'll be nothing but a liability to us."

He paused, watching as the crowd processed his words, his gaze still piercing through them like an eagle sizing up its prey.

The words hit, and the students blinked—some twice—confusion and disbelief spreading like wildfire.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Do you think we want to work with you?"

"Yeah, we were told we had no choice in this!"

Chaos erupted in the yard as students angrily fired back, their voices rising in a cacophony of frustration. They had expected some kind of empathy, some form of understanding, not this cold dismissal. Their anger fed into the growing tension, proving Killian's point about their uselessness.

At first, when the government had made the declaration, Killian had planned to ignore it. But then, someone higher up had forced his hand, and now, here he was—stuck with these preppy, privileged students who knew nothing about survival.

His mind quickly formed a plan B—he would show the government just how utterly useless these students were. If they failed to meet his expectations, maybe the government would abort the entire operation. Hell, he'd even planned to suggest that those who wanted the collaboration could take all the students off his hands. He didn't want any of them.

Grinning, he said, "Good. I'm glad we all understand each other."

Some students muttered, "Yeah, whatever, don't bother us."

"There's no way we're going to those wastelands," another added, the group rejoicing in their shared defiance. They thought Killian stood with them. Every single one of them, except for Professor Zane.

"Commander—" Professor Zane began, stepping forward, her voice firm. But Killian cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't bother," he said, his tone dismissive. "Your students have spoken." Then, pausing for effect, his voice dropped, dripping with menace. "But let me make one thing clear: If any of you set foot in my region, personally, I'll make sure you end up zombie food, or get a bullet in your skull faster than you can say 'I told you so.'" His grin never faltered.

He turned slowly toward the row of professors seated beneath the stage, eyes darkening as he addressed them. "Does that serve as the necessary debriefing your students needed?" he asked, his words laced with contempt. He didn't want to be here. Not one bit. But the Darn institution had connections to the government, and their students were treated differently because of it. Honestly, he'd seen it all. Every profession crumbled in the face of a ZO, but doctors, nurses—they survived. They were always needed, which was why the government had given these last rookies a fighting chance. The institution had promised to train top-tier doctors who would lead the others.

And yet, these entitled brats in front of him had the gall to refuse? Bullshit.

"Oh well," he muttered under his breath. "I never wanted them anyway."

But before he could continue, Professor Zane spoke up again, her voice calm yet unwavering. "No, absolutely not. You're issuing threats instead of offering words of encouragement, Commander. And last we checked, the government promised better care for the students." Her gaze was steady, challenging him.

"Oh?" Killian chuckled, low and vibrating with sarcasm. "Of course, you're right, Professor. That was before we saw that your last batch was actually a bunch of spineless, spoiled brats who think they're everything just because they have a degree that is practically useless in this current world." He let the words hang in the air, his eyes hardening with disdain.

Ella's breath hitched as she processed his words. She could feel the weight of the atmosphere around her, the air charged with tension. That's partly true, she thought. But her mind wandered back to what had just happened. Earlier, it had felt as though she was being drawn into an invisible force when Killian's gaze had locked onto her. It felt suffocating, but there was something else too—something she couldn't quite explain.

Professor Zane took a step back, her face softening slightly as she attempted to reason with him. "I understand, but you must be aware that our students are still in shock. It's only normal for them to react this way."

Killian chuckled again, a dark, almost seductive sound. "You think so?"

"Yes. I assure you, after this, they'll be fine. We just need to give them time to process the situation," Zane replied, her tone measured.

But Killian's smirk disappeared, replaced by an icy seriousness. "Oh? Then, Professor, must we always be there to hold their hands every step of the way? How will they fare when they're told what's really expected of them? It's too much to ask. And if you don't mind, just make sure your precious students never set foot in AZA 19." He finished, and with a flick of his wrist, the screen went black, cutting off the transmission.

AZA 19? Ella's breath caught in her throat as those words echoed in her mind.

"Anti-Zombie Area 19?" she whispered, her voice cracking. Her hands trembled, but she forced them into fists, nails digging into her skin as fury and panic crashed through her in waves.

Jake. That's where Jake was last seen before he ...vanished.