CHAPTER ONE

  The Breathing Silence

  ____________________

  The silence was alive.

  It pressed against her skin, thick and hot like breath on the back of her neck.

  Eleanore Sorin curled tighter into herself, fists balled so hard her nails split skin. She didn't feel the sting—her brain was too fried for pain to register. Her breath came in rapid, shallow pulls, and her hoodie stuck to her skin with cold sweat. Somewhere in the distance, a drip echoed. Too slow. Too deliberate.

  Too wrong.

  It had been... what? Two days since the sky cracked open and spat out hell? It felt like forever.

  Time was strange when the world went sideways. One moment, she was on her way to the Faculty Building, finishing up a last errand just before she was finally free from summer break. The next, blood rained from above—or oozed down to be more accurate—and people exploded like fruit under a sledgehammer. Screams drowned the campus. Buildings collapsed. And if you got even a drop of that blood on you? Game over. Mutation. Transformation. Death—if you were lucky.

  She had run. No real plan. Just raw instinct and that tingling sixth sense she always had since she could remember—the one she called her Spidey-sense, like a certain superhero. It has always worked as a seasonal hunch for her, but ever since her tenth birthday it became an ever-present radar for her. It could never accurately pinpoint things—of the whys and the hows, just where and how soon—it just yanked her toward safety with stomach-turning urgency.

  Now she’s here—in an abandoned lecture hall, deep in the science wing, barricaded behind shelves and desks. Her sanctuary. Her coffin.

  “Oh, God! Please let them be safe. Let them be safe, please!” Her heart cried out with miniscule hope. She was supposed to go to the campus medical bay, where her mother worked as a nurse. And Kael, her brother, was waiting with their mother for her. They should have been on their way to the beach in Okinawa by now—a long awaited family vacation for them, a delayed celebration of finally settling down and adapting in their new home.

  But no. She somehow ended up in this bizarre mockery of their campus, wisps of an ever present red mist creeping between trees and buildings. And she wasn't alone. Fifteen survivors. Huddled. Whispering. Breathing.

  Fifteen unlucky students who somehow got trapped in this nightmare with her. Most didn't look at her. But some did.

  She hated that.

  They thought she knew what she was doing. Thought she could get them through this. She didn't even know how she'd made it this far—just blur after blur of movement, hiding, dodging, sensing.

  I'm not a hero, she reminded herself. I'm just a thirteen-year-old grant student, from a family of three immigrants.

  A faint chh-chk-chhk sound echoed in the building.

  Her breath caught. Her body locked.

  She knew that sound. It was that awful, gnashing chatter—the sound of their nightmare.

  The Teethers. Their executioners.

  Eight feet tall. Rotting meat fused with steel. Jaws like industrial shredders. No eyes, no voices—just hunger that rattled the walls when they moved. And they never moved alone.

  A thud. Then another.

  Closer.

  "Too late!" Her senses buzzed. She clamped both hands over her mouth. Oh how did she not notice she was dozing off! Why couldn’t she stay awake for a while longer?! Now it was too late. They have barricaded both doors to the lecture hall—their meager attempts to safety against a hulking eight-feet tall monster. A sob clawed up her throat and died behind her fingers.

  Why won't it stop?

  Not the monsters.

  The crying.

  She was trapped! They all were.

  She hated herself for it, feeling inexorably responsible for their fate, how weak and hopeless she felt.

  Every tear felt like a beacon, just another scent for the Teethers to hunt. But even worse was the feeling that crept beneath the fear. Something else. Something inside the room. The reason behind her now blaring in alarm. The feeling of being cornered into a dangerous space with nowhere to go or hide.

  She swallowed hard and glanced around the dim lecture hall, She edged backwards as she felt the window pane behind her. Oh, how she wanted to jump out. But it was too high. Stupid, tall buildings!

  Fifteen students—children. A few were still asleep. Some of the students noticed her backing away. They started to scramble away in the same direction as her. As far away from the doors as they could. The few were startled awake in a panic, eyes bleary with confusion and fear. One muttered to himself. Some were soaked in despair, as they gazed blankly towards the door.

  They all realized that something was wrong. They might not live through after all. Eleanore's eyes strayed towards that odd boy and then towards the door. She frowned. She bit her lips in forced concentration, desperate to figure out why her senses were going haywire.

  She didn't understand. The Teethers were coming. But there was something else out there! Some things were following those monsters unnoticed.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Her eyes flickered towards a boy, who was resting near the podium with another boy. His friend, perhaps, was shaking him awake to no avail. Her radar buzzed—not like danger, not like the Teethers. This was different. A kind of pressure against her skull. Like a heartbeat that pulsed inward instead of out.

  Something was becoming.

  It didn't feel evil. Not yet.

  But it wasn't right.

  Like a cocoon pulsing before the shell breaks. A life not meant to be. A transformation waiting to go wrong.

  And it wasn't the only one.

  Eleanore's hands trembled again. Her mounting headache progressed worse and worse. This time, not just from fear, there was an odd sense of duty. Those people, whether she wanted it or not, followed her with desperate hope and blind faith. She didn't know what was coming with those monsters. But her radar did. And it was screaming in whispers of danger and safety.

  Just beyond her, the rest of the survivors stirred. And that boy, slowly, too slowly for her, opened their eyes. Then there came silence, as if her senses were also holding its breath as she inhaled sharply.

  She remembers how the boy's eyes were a dull shade of brown, but now they've changed. It was the color of the abyss.

  The silence didn't last. It never did.

  Eleanore's breath came in quick, broken gasps, the scent of fear thickening the air. The silence stretched, suffocating the room until it broke. Her radar-like senses spiked—sharp and cold, like ice cracking under her skin.

  Then—

  CRASH.

  The wall exploded inward with a sound like thunder. Shards of wood and broken shelves flew through the air. A jagged chunk clipped her cheek as she dove behind an overturned desk.

  Two Teethers.

  Screams erupted all around her. People scrambled further away—some ducking, others frozen in place. That boy was also frozen in place, his friend pulling at his arm. He was not even budging! As if he were fixed in place by some power

  The barricade was torn apart like paper, and from the darkness beyond, two hulking monsters stomped through the remains of the makeshift wall. They moved with the grim inevitability of death—flesh hanging in ragged tatters, jagged metal fused to their bodies like armor. Their enormous mouths were lined with rows of jagged teeth, gnashing in anticipation.

  Her stomach dropped.

  One of them paused, head jerking like it had sniffed something.

  Then it turned.

  Toward him.

  That frozen kid near the podium, the one who hadn't spoken, who hadn't moved much since they got here—his friend frantically pulling at him in frustration. Now, his eyes were darker than the shadows of those monsters.

  Oh, how his eyes looked...morbidly wrong. Like the light inside had already gone out. Just an empty shell waiting to be cracked open. His friend shivering beside him, still desperately pulling at his sleeves towards safety.

  What a loyal friend. She thought in shock.

  The Teether lunged.

  Eleanore couldn't move fast enough. She did not even understand why she wanted to move and protect that boy, despite looking eerily wrong.

  But something else did. Just before it could reach its prey, his friend's arm swiped to the side, an action to shield a friend no matter the meager chances of doing so, even with his own life on the line. One moment, everything felt like a standstill, to better witness another tragedy, the next came the sound of a sonic boom.

  A blast of something tore across the room like a comet. An invisible force slammed into the creature mid-leap and threw it backward, with its arm swiping wildly and hitting the second Teether with enough force to send it spiraling. A sickening crunch echoed. The force of their impact rattled the wall.

  "Everybody down!" A voice rang out—sharp, commanding—from beyond the door.

  Without a moment to spare, a line of fire tore through the Teethers, and the entire room was illuminated by a blinding flash. The flames surged toward Eleanore, and her instinct kicked in—she hurled herself sideways, the heat blistering her skin as the blast tore through the window behind her. The pain was immediate, searing her back, but it was nothing compared to the roar of destruction that followed.

  She landed hard against the cold floor, eyes snapping open to find both Teethers slumped at the center of the room. Their massive heads, once crowned with teeth, were now nothing but blackened stumps, their mouths reduced to hollow charred remains.

  A stunned silence fell.

  Pain flared up her spine. Something warm ran down her shoulder. Blood?

  She blinked rapidly, vision swimming.

  The monsters were gone.

  Burned through. Blackened stumps where their heads used to be. The smell of scorched meat clung to the air like a curse. A low, disbelieving gasp passed through the room. No one moved. No one even breathed.

  Her ears rang. Her hands shook.

  The survivors, who had once been screaming and panicking, were now frozen in a mix of shock and awe, eyes flicking between the doorway and the grotesque remains of the Teethers. The air was thick with the smoke of scorched flesh, but there was an odd sense of relief—one battle won.

  Eleanore scrambled to her feet, every muscle in her body trembling. She caught sight of the first eerie student, now leaning weakly against the podium. His eyes had lost that strange, vacant quality, but his face was pale. His loyal friend hovered beside him, eyes wide, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

  Three figures stepped into the room. Eleanore's gaze locked on the girl in front, and her heart seized. "Carmen?"

  "Erin?" The girl gasped in disbelief. Her voice cracked—familiar, worried, horrified. "Erin!"

  Before she could speak, Carmen rushed forward and dropped to her knees beside her, grabbing her shoulders like she was afraid Eleanore might vanish again.

  "You didn't answer any of my messages," she gasped. "I—I thought—!"

  "I'm here," Elanore breathed, the words barely forming. Her eyes stung—smoke, pain, shock. "You're here... there was no signal. I didn't receive any messages."

  "I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner. I didn't know where you were...You're hurt!" Carmen exclaimed. Her palms fluttered towards her back, not touching, yet there was a tingling sensation. Oh, she got burnt, she thought absently. She noticed Carmen's brows frowning in concentration, a stray bead of sweat falling.

  "Just give me a minute, Erin." Carmen muttered wearily, "There. Not completely healed. But better."

  Oh. Oh! Between her spidey-sense and that literal flamethrower, of course, healing is not impossible. Her eyes strayed behind Carmen, where two boys came in.

  One of them—lean, tall, arm bare to the shoulder—was breathing hard. His sleeve was scorched, smoke still curling faintly from his skin. But there were no burns. No marks.

  He was the fire. And the monsters didn’t even know what hit them.