Revisiting my old school had always been something I had wanted to do. Saying hi to my teachers, asking the kids how it is, things like that. It turned out to be very different.

As I walked to the school gates, I already noticed something was off. No children played in the playgrounds, and no teachers were insight. The place seemed…abandoned. The swings creaked in the wind and the concrete was completely cracked, as if the school was left in a hurry. No…was left because something was chasing them, running for their lives. But still, my curiousity was already peaked, so I climbed over the gate with surprising ease, wiping the rust onto my trousers, and entered the school building, barging down the weathered, wooden doors.

The scent was the first thing I noticed as I stepped in. I couldn’t make out what it was, so I just ignored it. Lockers were turned upside down, tiles were destroyed and most of the ceiling had caved in. I followed the scent. I passed rows and rows of classrooms, all equally as damaged. I continued until I reached the head teacher’s office.

The door was ajar.

I stepped through.

There, sat the headteacher. Blood oozed from his mouth and pooled onto the floor. His limbs were twisted in all different directions, and holes scaled his body, bone sticking out in strange angles. I swallowed the urge to throw up.

Before I could turn and leave, I saw the heateacher’s finger twitch. A slight beacon of hope lit within me.

His eyes opened.

He stood.

I screamed as I saw the blood gush through his eyes and onto his outstretched arms.

He reached for me.

Ran for me.

I tried to escape but it was too late.