Chapter 22 - Escape from the Glass cage

It was 09:45 AM on a crisp autumn morning, and the classroom at Westridge Academy was immersed in the quiet focus of a literature lesson.

The room, lined with tall wooden bookshelves brimming with well-worn volumes, was bathed in the golden light streaming through the large windows.

The faint scent of old paper mixed with the subtle aroma of freshly sharpened pencils filled the air. Students sat at their desks, heads bent, scribbling notes diligently as Mrs. Taoma guided them through the complexities of Shakespeare's Macbeth.

Mrs. Taoma, a woman in her mid-forties with silver-rimmed glasses perched on her nose and a calm, measured voice, paced slowly along the front of the room.

She was explaining the meaning behind Macbeth's soliloquy, her words flowing steadily like a gentle river.

Her students were captivated, hanging on every word, when suddenly the atmosphere shifted.

From the second row, a boy named Peter : a quiet, reserved, with dark hair that always seemed a little tousled—abruptly stood up.

The sharp scraping of his chair against the polished wooden floor cut through the silence like a knife.

Every head in the room snapped toward him, eyes wide with surprise and confusion.

Peter's movements were strange, almost mechanical. He spread his arms slightly, his fingers stiff and unmoving. His eyes were wide open, unblinking, staring upward as if fixated on something invisible to everyone else.

The room seemed to hold its breath. A collective gasp escaped the lips of the students, who instinctively shrank back in their seats, their terror palpable.

"Peter?" Mrs. Taoma called softly at first, then louder, stepping toward him.

"Peter, stop!" But he did not respond.

Instead, he began to walk slowly toward the classroom door, his steps deliberate yet oddly vacant. His face was expressionless, devoid of any recognition of the panic he was causing.

The teacher's calm shattered like glass.

"Security! Get help, now!" she shouted, her voice echoing down the hall as she rushed out to alert the school staff. Inside, the students sat frozen, eyes wide, hearts pounding.

Some whispered frantic theories, others stared in stunned silence. The eerie procession of Peter, arms still spread and eyes fixed ahead, sent a shiver down everyone's spine.

Within minutes, teachers and security personnel arrived, their hurried footsteps pounding in the corridor. They tried to intercept Peter, but he moved with an unnatural determination, as if controlled by an unseen force.

The incident left the school shaken, marking yet another unsettling mystery in the neighborhood. Whispers of strange occurrences at Westridge Academy spread quickly, leaving students and staff alike on edge.

Early Morning Investigation and Hospital Escape

The next day, long before the sun had risen, the town was cloaked in a cool, misty silence.

••••••• At 6:00 AM, the predawn air hung heavy with anticipation outside Haul Academy. Despite the principal's stern warnings about trespassing and curiosity, Becky's insatiable urge to uncover the truth had convinced her friends Rossie and Ethan to sneak out early.

Armed with flashlights and a sense of urgency, the trio slipped quietly beyond the school gates, their footsteps muffled by the damp grass

. They headed toward the spot near Westridge Academy where the first incident—the unconscious boy found in the town square—had occurred just days before.

The cracked pavement glistened faintly under the weak glow of dawn. Becky knelt down, shining her flashlight across the ground.

"This is where it happened," she whispered, her voice low and serious.

"The first one. It's too close to ignore—especially after what happened yesterday."

Rossie, her bracelet warm against her wrist, nodded thoughtfully.

She still remembered the strange greenish glow that had emanated from it, a sensation that had unnerved her deeply.

"If it's the entity," she said cautiously, "we need proof.

Let's look for traces—symbols, anything unusual."

Ethan swept his flashlight beam across the area, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Maybe we should check the hospital," he suggested.

"See if the boy from yesterday is the same case."

The three friends agreed and quickly arranged a discreet ride to St. Mary's Hospital.

••••••••••• By 7:00 AM, they stood outside the isolated glass cube unit where the boy from Westridge was being held. The hospital was eerily quiet, the sterile white walls reflecting the early morning light.

Through the thick, reinforced glass, they saw Mrs. Nguyen, the boy's mother, standing beside his bed. Her face was etched with despair, eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights. She stared silently at her son, who was still dressed in his Westridge uniform. His eyes remained wide open and unblinking, his arms slightly spread in the same unnatural pose as during the classroom incident.

"We can't go in," Rossie whispered, her voice trembling. "They've locked it down tight."

Ethan nodded grimly. "Let's just observe for now. Maybe we can figure out what's going on."

Suddenly, a sharp crack shattered the silence. The trio spun around, hearts pounding wildly. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the corridor. They rushed back toward the glass cube, only to freeze in shock.

The boy had broken through the thick glass with an unnatural force, shards raining to the floor like deadly confetti. His escape was impossible by any normal means—a display of strength and power that defied human limits.

The boy stepped out, still in his vacant trance, his arms spread wide as if guided by the same invisible force that had controlled him before.

Rossie, Ethan, and Becky exchanged horrified glances.

Could this be the entity or another thing else? Ethan asked

"Maybe or perhaps not"..Becky answered!

Aftermath and Rising TensionNews of the boy's escape spread quickly through the town.

Authorities sealed off the hospital wing and launched an investigation, but no one could explain how the glass had shattered without a sound of struggle or alarm from the boy himself.

Mrs. Nguyen was inconsolable, her grief deepening as she clung to the hope that her son might somehow return to normal.

At school, students whispered in hushed tones about the strange occurrences. Some claimed to have seen shadows moving where there was no light; others spoke of cold chills and unexplained noises in the hallways.

Teachers grew increasingly uneasy, and the principal called an emergency meeting to address the growing fears.

Meanwhile, Becky, Rossie, and Ethan found themselves drawn deeper into the mystery.

They poured over books, researched local legends, and scoured the town for clues.

Determined to uncover the truth and protect their friends, the trio prepared for what lay ahead. They knew the entity was no longer confined to shadows or whispers—it was real, powerful, and hungry for more.

And the next incident was only a matter of time.