The next few periods passed without incident. Nyra led me from class to class, her quiet confidence making it seem almost effortless. By the time I sat down in my fourth-period class, I was beginning to feel like I could get through the day without much trouble.

The bell rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. I reached into my pocket, grabbed my crumpled schedule, and glanced at it. Lunch.

I packed up my things, shoved the schedule back into my pocket, slung my bag over my shoulder, and stepped out into the hallway.

The hall stretched out before me, a sea of noise and movement. To my left and right, students flooded the corridors, their chatter overlapping into a chaotic hum. The walls bore years of wear—paint chipped at the edges of the lockers, and faded graffiti was etched into the metal like battle scars. The air buzzed with an odd mix of excitement and urgency, like everyone was racing toward something.

I glanced around for Nyra but saw no sign of her.

Maybe she finally got tired of guiding me everywhere, I thought bitterly, the idea simmering in the back of my mind. But I didn’t have time to let those thoughts fester.

I was lost. Completely and utterly lost.

My chest tightened at the realization. My worst fear since stepping into this massive school had finally come true. A headline flashed through my mind: Boy found wandering halls of enormous high school, starves to death before lunch. I shook the thought off and tried to come up with a plan.

The best I had was to follow the crowd. There were still groups of students heading down the hall, and if they weren’t going to the cafeteria, maybe I’d figure something else out along the way. I picked a group to tail, staying just far enough behind so it wouldn’t look like I was following them. To sell the illusion, I pulled out my phone and one earbud.

As I reached for the second one, I realized it wasn’t there.

Nyra.

She’d swiped my earbud on the bus and never gave it back. Guess I’d have to make do with one for now.

The group ahead of me stopped in front of a classroom, filing inside. My heart sank as I realized they weren’t heading to the cafeteria—they were meeting friends and pulling out lunch boxes.

Rats.

I turned around, retracing my steps. But by the third left turn and second right, it hit me—I had no idea where I was. The once-busy hallways grew emptier with each step I took.

Admitting defeat, I stopped walking, pacing in place as I tried to figure out my next move.

Keep moving, I told myself. Wandering was better than standing still.

I decided to start marking my route on my phone, creating a rough map to avoid doubling back too much. But then my phone flashed at me: 12% battery left.

If this dies, I’m done for.

I trudged forward, turning corner after corner after corner—and that’s when I saw it.

A set of stairs.

They were old, decayed, and ominous. The steps were cracked and uneven, their edges jagged like broken glass. Dust clung to the wooden banisters, thick enough to leave marks if you brushed it. A faint breeze blew upward from the staircase, even though it only led downward. Strips of caution tape hung loosely across the entrance, faded and torn. Signs that read DO NOT ENTER were barely legible, their letters worn away by time.

I froze, staring at the stairs.

They looked... wrong. The kind of wrong that made your skin crawl and your body scream to turn and run. The air around them felt heavier, colder, like it carried whispers I couldn’t quite make out.

A chill ran down my spine, every hair on my body standing on end. My breath caught, and my chest tightened.

Run, my instincts screamed.

I turned and bolted, not daring to look back. My feet pounded against the floor as I sprinted, but my escape was cut short when I collided with something—or someone.

I stumbled backward, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

Looking up, I froze.

It wasn’t a person.

The figure standing before me was shrouded in darkness. Its limbs were impossibly long, twisting unnaturally at the joints. Its face—or what should have been its face—was obscured, its features shifting and flickering like static on a broken TV.

Before I could react, something struck the side of my neck.

A sharp, cold pressure radiated through me as my vision blurred. My knees buckled, and the world tilted.

The last thing I felt was the cold, hard floor as everything went black.

Cold.

My eyes fluttered open as I registered the floor beneath me and the faint chill in the air. Slowly, I pushed myself upright, taking in my surroundings. I was in another hallway—not the one I was just in, but one I didn’t recognize at all.

I fumbled for my phone to check the time, but as I pressed the power button, the screen flickered once before going black. Dead. Great. Now I was not only lost, but I had no way to navigate or even call for help.

I sat there, the events that had just unfolded rushing back to me. What just happened? The eerie staircase, the bone-chilling figure, the sudden blow to my neck—it was all a blur of confusion and fear. My thoughts churned as I tried to piece it together, but the more I tried, the hazier it became.

Before I could fully dwell on the horror of it all, a sharp scent cut through my spiraling thoughts. Food.

The smell hit me like a jolt, rich and savory, flooding my senses and pulling me to my feet. Blood rushed to my head, leaving me lightheaded. I steadied myself against the wall, blinking away the sensation.

Once balanced, I turned toward the source of the smell. Following it instinctively, I looked up and froze.

Ahead of me was a massive opening leading to a brightly lit, bustling space. The word CAFETERIA was engraved in bold letters above the entryway, and inside, I could make out various food stalls and stations, each one surrounded by a cluster of students. The air was alive with chatter and the clatter of trays. Finally. After what felt like an eternity of wandering aimlessly, I’d made it. The cafeterias.