Rigel should have just stayed home. He should have listened to that gnawing instinct deep within him, the one whispering in his ear that today was not a day for school. Of course, that instinct hadn't warned him about the chaos and horror that lay ahead; it hadn't foreseen the unbelievable madness that would unfold. But still! He really should have just stayed home.
The day had started off normal, like any other day, especially considering the whirlwind of craziness that had engulfed him yesterday. He had managed to push aside the thoughts of Dreamcatchers, Veilkeepers, and Greek gods from his mind—though they lingered just out of sight, like shadows at the edge of his consciousness.
He woke up at his usual time, dressed quickly, and stepped out of the house, bracing himself for the long walk to school. But as soon as he crossed the threshold of his home, an unsettling wave of sickness washed over him. This was not your typical tummy ache; no, this was a bone-chilling malaise that gripped him like icy fingers around his spine. He felt cold—so cold that beads of sweat formed on his forehead despite the chill in the air—and an overwhelming sensation crept over him: he felt like he was being watched.
That should have been his first warning, a clear sign that screamed for him to turn back and retreat into the safety of his home. But Rigel, stubborn and stupid as ever, brushed aside the sickening feeling and continued on his path.
Even after arriving at school, that sense of dread lingered—now heavier, more suffocating than before. If only he had seen this as an omen! Instead of heading to his first class—History—Rigel found himself wandering toward the bathroom instead. Class hadn't started yet; surely he had time for a moment alone.
He walked to the sink and turned on the tap, letting cold water run as he washed his hands and splashed some on his face in a desperate attempt to calm his racing heart. That's when it happened.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Rigel heard footsteps echoing off the tiled floor behind him. He didn't look up; instead, he focused on the cool water cascading over his skin, hoping it would soothe the growing panic within him. But then he realized why that feeling had intensified—the presence behind him had come to a halt directly in his line of sight.
His heart thundered in his chest as he felt a weighty gaze bore into him from behind. The chilling sound of heavy breathing filled the air, yet the stranger said nothing. They simply stood there—an ominous silhouette looming in the dimly lit bathroom.
Swallowing down a lump of bile lodged firmly in his throat, Rigel slowly raised his head and turned around. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his lips.
What stood before him was no mere person; it was something ripped straight from a nightmare. The shadowy figure loomed tall with elongated limbs that appeared almost grotesque in their unnatural length. Its face twisted and shifted like smoke caught in a breeze, changing shape with each flicker of light in the grimy bathroom.
Rigel was frozen in place, unable to move or scream—a statue caught in an unending moment of terror. It didn't even seem to be looking at him at first; it merely stood there as if it were meant to occupy this space. But then its eyes—if they could even be called eyes—zeroed in on him with a predatory intensity that sent icy spikes of dread coursing through him.
In that moment of sheer horror, Rigel remembered Theo's warning: "𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝑖𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛; 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘."
Yesterday's vague warnings suddenly crystallized into horrifying clarity as he stared at this creature now reaching for him with its razor-sharp fingers elongated like twisted branches ready to snatch away life itself.
With a sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Rigel bolted out of the bathroom, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He raced down the dimly lit hallway, ignoring the bewildered stares and hushed whispers that followed him like shadows. Every footfall echoed ominously against the cold tiles as he sprinted toward the exit, desperate to escape the unseen terror that lurked just behind him.
When he finally dared to glance back over his shoulder, a chill gripped him. The creature was right there, lingering in the shadows, its form shrouded in an unsettling stillness. It wasn't running; it didn't even look like it was moving closer. Instead, it seemed to absorb the darkness around it, a grotesque silhouette that sent shivers down his spine. Rigel felt a primal instinct claw at him, a gut-wrenching realization that there was only one place left where he could seek refuge from this nightmare.
Fear propelled him onward as he turned sharply and continued his frantic flight. Today, school was no longer an option; survival took precedence over attendance. His mind raced with thoughts of safety as he dashed through the school gates, heart racing and breath ragged. The world outside felt hot, but even the sunlight seemed tainted by the dread that clung to him like a second skin. Skipping school today was no longer a choice—it was a desperate bid for survival against whatever the fuck that was.