Chapter 4

BAM!

The classroom fell into a suffocating silence as the door burst open. Natasha jerked upright from her desk, eyes still heavy with sleep. Her gaze met Ola's—but he looked away, dismissing her like she didn't exist.

She sighed. She knew what was coming.

This wasn't the time for chaos. Everyone was trying to stay quiet, yet Ola and his gang stirred the air with reckless noise.

BAM!!

The entire class flinched as a desk was slammed with terrifying force.

"You all have some guts!!" Sam, one of Ola's thugs, bellowed.

"Watch it, Sam," Ola warned from the back, his voice low but deadly. "If you yell any louder, we might all get killed."

Sam clenched his jaw, rage bubbling beneath his skin.

"Who was it?! We've been lenient with you rats, and now you think you can run to the teachers for help?!" another boy growled. He was even more arrogant than Sam, with a bulkier build and eyes that gleamed with malice.

He stalked toward Samir, the class rep, and bent down, face inches from his prey. Natasha stood instinctively, but Ola's warning glance pinned her back to her seat. She clenched her fists in frustration.

"Class rep," the boy sneered. "So they followed you, huh? That's why everyone's acting brave."

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Samir stammered, avoiding his eyes.

"Idiot," Natasha seethed in silence. "How long will you let them treat you like this?"

"Playing dumb? Not bad. Give me their names."

"I don't kn—"

BAM.

The boy's fist crashed into Samir's chin, knocking him off his chair. Blood trickled from his mouth as he collapsed.

"Say that again!" the boy snarled, raining more punches onto Samir's limp frame.

"Quietly," Ola reminded coldly, unbothered.

Nehita trembled in her seat beside him. She dared a glance at Ola—even though he wasn't looking at her, his presence alone sent shivers down her spine.

Weren't things like this supposed to happen in schools outside Nigeria? Why…why here?

They had reported the bullying. They'd tried to stop it.

But it only made things worse.

Oh Lord, please, let this stop.

"What are you looking at?" Ola's voice sliced through her thoughts. She immediately looked away, panic swelling in her chest.

"N-nothing," she stammered.

Ola stared at her a few seconds longer, then turned away.

"The… the teacher is on her way," the assistant class rep whispered before sitting. The bully hissed, grabbed Samir by the collar, and whispered in his ear:

"Get me their names before closing time."

He shoved Samir to the floor and went to his seat.

The teacher entered moments later. Her eyes landed on Samir—and the look on the students' faces told her everything.

"What happened here?!" she yelled. Silence.

"Should I repeat myself?!"

"Just do your job and leave," Ola replied flatly.

The teacher blinked, stunned. She clutched her chest as if unsure he had actually spoken to her.

Ola rolled his eyes, laid his head on the desk, and appeared to sleep.

"Samir, follow me. When I'm back, Ola—you and I are going to the principal's office," she snapped before storming off.

Natasha glanced at Ola. He didn't even twitch.

Meanwhile, no one noticed the blood from Samir's wounds trickling to the floor. It sizzled as it seeped into a crack and traveled downward, melting everything in its path—until it reached a pipe. There, it fused with water, lost its burning power, and simply flowed.

A junior boy walked to a nearby tap, filled his bottle, and took a gulp.

SPLASH.

The bottle hit the floor. He grabbed his throat, gasping. Heat surged through his veins—then, snap—his spine twisted grotesquely, and he fell backward.

His dark skin rippled with green pores. His eyes turned orange.

---

"Sit here," the teacher said to Samir in the health room. "Let me get the first aid box. Then you'll tell me everything."

She opened the cabinet.

Empty.

"What the—" she muttered. "I'll be back."

Back in the classroom, the atmosphere lightened slightly. Students whispered cautiously.

"That idiot teacher wants my mom to come to school," grumbled the overweight boy. "As if that woman even sees me as her son."

"What about Ola? That teacher said she's taking him to the principal," Sam asked.

"Shhhh," another boy hushed him quickly.

"So you're more scared of him than me?" Feranmi sneered.

"Boss, of course not! We fear you the most," Sam assured.

Feranmi scoffed and drank from a bottle of local alcohol.

"The wall clock's stopped working again," Ayomide noted, fiddling with it. "But we just changed the battery."

Knock, knock.

"Excuse me," a junior girl said, peeking in. "Oh! Yours too?"

"What?" Ayomide asked.

"Our class clock stopped. We came to check yours. Same time—10:17."

"Us too!" another girl chimed in. "Same time."

"That's strange," said a student. "My phone said 10:17 just before the teacher entered... and now it still says 10:17."

Natasha stopped reading. She pulled out her phone.

10:17.

"Just a coincidence," Ayomide said weakly.

"Mine too."

"Same here!"

"Everyone's devices… all stuck at 10:17?!"

"It'd be fine," Sam said, "if the seconds hand was still moving."

DASH!

Natasha bolted out of the classroom.

"Let's check the others!" Ayomide said. Nehita nodded and followed, but just as she stood, a hand yanked her back into her seat.

She looked down.

Ola's hand.

His head was still resting on the table. His eyes remained shut.

She froze.

"Go check it out," Feranmi ordered.

"We?"

"Or should I go myself?" he roared.

"No—no, boss. We're going!" Sam and the overweight boy replied in sync, scrambling out.

---

"Natasha!" Ayomide called. "It's the same everywhere! All the clocks in the school stopped at 10:17. You knew, didn't you? Is this connected to them?"

"Ayomide, how would she know? All she knows is what the government said on the news," Bridget snapped.

"She's doing her own research!"

"What?!" The others stared.

"You're spouting rubbish," Natasha muttered.

"Then why did you run out of class like that—just to check clocks?"

"You're outside too, aren't you?!" Natasha snapped.

"Don't you have class?!" a teacher yelled.

"We do, ma!" Bridget replied quickly glaring at Natasha and Ayomide sending them a warning gaze.

"Then should I beg you to return?!"

"No ma!" she tugged Ayomide's sleeve. "Let's go."

"Guys…!" a trembling voice called behind them.

A boy pointed ahead, eyes wide with terror.

"Is… is that not Phynicx?!"