Chương 36: Crimson Eyes

The door to the stairwell bursts open with a crash. Crimson and the rest tumble out into the hallway on the second floor. They test doors one by one. Every one of them is locked. Then Scara spots one that's open, and they dive into a Chemistry room, easing the door shut fast and silent. Crimson seizes the teacher's chair and jams it beneath the knob just as the stairwell door bangs open again. They all retreat to the wall, hidden from the door's window, every one of them holding their breath.

Larch, Scara, Willow, Crimson and Churro all flatten themselves against the wall, frozen in fear. Crimson, nearest the door, gradually peeks out past the wall's edge. Churro reaches for him, tugging him back. Yet he tilts his head, straining to listen... The click of claws on the tile floor reaches his ears. The creature drawing nearer and nearer. Its weight makes the door shudder as it approaches. Scara clamps her hands over her mouth, fighting a scream as breath fogs the window in the door.

Then it passes on, the noise of its heavy body fading away. A moment later, the kids let out their breath. Still, nobody stirs. His eyes fixed on the door's window, Crimson whispers...

"Larch, how many people can fit in your car?"

"Make it five, if someone manages to cram onto another person's lap." He answered.

"That doesn't change anything. There's simply no way out of here without attracting notice. How about this instead?" Crimson fixed her gaze on the steel door beyond the teacher's desk.

"It opens onto the roof. From there we could take the fire escape down to the parking lot in seconds. The Janitor keeps a key. I can get my hands on it""You're saying it's on his body." He snatches the teacher's pointer off the chalkboard, clutching it as though it were a baseball bat. Then he catches their expressions.

"Still beats having nothing."

"There has to be another option...

"And there is." Scara tips his head toward the cabinet packed with chemicals.

"What, Like dousing him in acid?

"No, more like a firebomb. Inside it lies everything required to build a Molotov Cocktail that lights itself. Molotov Cocktail. What? I came across it in some book." Larch drives his foot right through the glass. A few moments later, several bottles are arranged across the teacher's desk. Scara tips one bottle into a blend that already sits inside a glass breaker.

"Larch, pass me the sulfuric acid." He rotates each bottle, searching for the correct one, then passes it to Scara with care.

"No. No, this is madness. You can't do this. You can't go out there."

"And we can't just stay here while Churro's dad finally checks his messages." Turning, he works the chair free from beneath the doorknob.

"Crimson, stop. Stop. Just stop." Tears fill her eyes, born of both fear and anger.

"Remember when you told me you'd be able to tell whether or not I was lying? That I've got a tell? So do you. You're an awful liar. And you've spent the whole night lying." Behind her, the others listen, watching with clear unease as Crimson nearly fires back with yet another lie, but then he holds his tongue. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Don't leave us." Standing farthest from the group, Larch can barely keep from grinning, having to bite his lip.

"Lock it behind me." Yet before he can turn away, Willow steps forward. While the others look on, she draws him close, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that is nothing but a plea. Crimson softly pulls back and ends the kiss. His face twisted in agony, he turns and walks out the door. It clicks shut just as the door to the dark stairwell eases open. Fully aware of his own terrified breaths, Crimson steps inside and gazes down... Nothing moves.

He starts down the steps one at a time, creeping his way back to the first floor. Crimson rounds the corner, drawing the air in, tilting his head... and picking up a scent. Two double doors swing open without a sound, letting Crimson enter the school's vast gymnasium. A huge, wide-open space, it is lit only by the emergency lights fixed above the two exits. With the Molotov cocktail gripped tight in his fist, Crimson draws in a lungful of air, his gaze swinging toward the telescope bleachers set against the wall.

He starts toward them. Yet rather than ascending, he slips around the side and ducks beneath the bleachers. Into the gloom of those hidden pockets, Crimson presses on, farther and farther. Hands guiding him along the underside of the bleachers, he gradually lifts his eyes and spots something suspended in the shadows overhead. The janitor's keys Dangling from his body, which in turn dangles from the metal supports that crisscross beneath the bleachers...

Churro, Scara, Larch and Willow are seated, arranged in a row along the wall, awaiting Crimson's return.

"This makes no sense to me. I can't understand why he's out there, why he walked away and... I can't... my hands just won't quit trembling. My hands." she remarked.

"Everything will be fine." Larch attempted to comfort her. Hearing the murmurs, Churro pivots around. His gaze shifts to Scara, who appears oddly unruffled. It's almost as though she's resolved to feel no more fear, while Larch draws nearer to Willow.

"I can't make the shaking stop."

"It's fine." He covers her hands with his own, fingers lacing together, striving to soothe her, though his eyes rest on her a touch too long. Just like in the previous room, Crimson carefully places the Molotov cocktail onto the ground. He extends his hand toward one of the metal supports beneath the bleachers. Climbing cautiously upward, he starts to ascend, heading for the keys dangling from the Janitor's belt.

Once he takes a final step, he reaches out his arm, straining to grab the keys, until a clunking noise halts him. He freezes, his eyes flitting toward the shadows. Then tilts his head to listen. Yet there is absolutely nothing there. Once more he stretches upward toward the keys, and another heavy clunk sends the supports trembling. Spinning around, he spots where the noise is coming from as the bleachers begin caving inward.

From the gym floor, someone, or something, is shoving the seats inward, making the bleachers fold in around him. With a precise, well-aimed slash, Crimson rips the keys from the body. He springs back down to the space between the bleachers and the wall, then races for the light shining just past them. Yet the bleachers sweep in quickly, ready to crush him as he takes one final leap. He seizes the Molotov from the floor and rolls clear to safety.

While, by the teacher's desk, Scara casts a quick look at the chemical bottles they'd employed to concoct the Molotov Cocktail.

"Larch, you're the one who gave me the sulfuric acid, correct? It's got to be sulfuric acid. It won't catch fire, if it isn't..." She turns back toward him, only to catch him glowering at her.

"I handed you precisely what you requested. Didn't I?" He holds her in his gaze, never blinking. A stare that unsettles, that terrifies. Scara's eyes drift back to the bottle.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure you did." All at once, poised at the rim of the wrecked bleachers, Crimson lifts the Molotov Cocktail with trembling hands.

"Come on. Come and get me." Something comes charging forward as Crimson flings the cocktail and shuts his eyes tight, bracing for the burst of flame. Yet all that reaches his ears is the sound of shattering glass. His eyes fly open to find harmless chemicals pooling across the floor.

"Oh damn." something seizes his ankle and yanks him straight down to the floor. The keys slip from his fingers as he is flung into the middle of the gym. A hand tipped with claws seizes the side of Crimson's head, forcing his face against the floor. The claw points dig into his cheek, on the verge of breaking skin, while his eyes fly wide open. Then the alpha's shadowed profile lowers toward Crimson's face, jagged teeth protruding from its gaping jaws.

It unleashes a ROAR as mighty and world-rattling as the bellow of a T-Rex. Trapped and defenseless, Crimson's eyes abruptly flare with a yellow light, as though answering the Alpha's roar. His mouth falls open, his teeth now grown into fangs. The change is starting to take hold in him...

The rest pivot toward the strange sound, listening as its echoes drift up from the school beneath them. Everyone but Larch, who drops to his knees, grimacing in agony. A moment later, he's howling. One hand gripping the nape of his neck, he collapses onto the floor while the others spin around and watch him convulsing in torment. At that very instant, Crimson writhes upward, the Alpha no longer pinning him, no longer visible anywhere at all. With yellow eyes, he shrieks as the werewolf takes over.

Yet this time, summoned by the Alpha's howl, the change is sheer torture, his frame shaken by waves of pain, clawed fingers pushing, nearly burrowing, into the floor. His head snaps up as the transformation finishes. But something has changed. Lips peeled back in a feral snarl, teeth exposed, it's as though the innocent Crimson McCall has vanished entirely. Nowhere to be seen behind those yellow eyes that now scan the darkness for something... Something to slaughter.