Classes started as usual the next day. I dragged myself sluggishly to my English class, still exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before.
I dropped into an empty seat beside a black-haired guy whose face I barely registered, then fixed my gaze on our English lecturer. She was passionately explaining something on the board, completely absorbed in her job, almost too absorbed.
Her lips moved nonstop, but I couldn't hear a word she was saying. The classroom was quiet, yet my head felt loud.
"Didn't sleep well last night?" the guy beside me asked. I could hear the teasing smile in his voice.
"Yeah," I replied without looking at him.
My eyes drifted to the front row and there they were. Tasha and Dian, sitting side by side. The jealousy hit instantly.
"Oh," the guy continued, "it's because of Dian, isn't it? He gave you a sleepless night."
What?
I turned sharply and stared at him. He scoffed lightly. "Relax. He's my roommate."
He smiled. "I'm Leo."
His long black hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, and when he smiled, it revealed a sharp, narrow jawline that made him look slightly older than the rest of us.
"Peige," I replied, lowering my gaze back to my English notes. "And what makes you think I didn't sleep well?"
"You've got eye bags," he said casually.
My heart dropped.
I quickly pulled a pocket mirror from my bag and checked and wow. They were bad. Really bad. So bad I didn't even know when I got up.
"What?!" I blurted out.
Every head in the class turned.
Mrs. Chloe, our English lecturer, folded her arms and frowned at me. "Yes, Miss Derka? Is there something you'd like to contribute to today's discussion?"
My mind went completely blank. Like.... what the actual hell?
I turned to Jaca, who was seated behind me, wedged between two annoyingly good-looking guys. The moment she saw my face, she burst into laughter.
"Wow, girl," she whispered loudly, pulling out her mini makeup bag. "You look terrible."
I turned back to Mrs. Chloe. "May I use the restroom, ma'am?"
She sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the board. "Make it quick."
I snatched the makeup kit from Jaca and bolted out of the classroom.
"You're welcome!" Jaca called after me, as laughter filled the room.
In the restroom, I splashed water on my face over and over, then dried it with the small black-and-white spotted handkerchief I always carried. The air reeked of disinfectant and something else I couldn't quite place but it didn't matter right now.
I opened the makeup bag. Of course, Jaca was prepared for every possible lip-combo emergency.
I dabbed a little concealer onto the foundation brush and gently tapped it under my eyes, over the areas that were… well, not okay.
It took nearly thirty minutes to properly hide the dark circles. I set everything with powder and was just applying lip gloss when I heard it...
A thud. Heavy and dull, like a body hitting the floor.
I froze.
Slowly, I turned around. Five stalls stood in a neat row, identical in structure. From the middle stall, I could see two legs beneath the door.
"Hello?" I called but they didn't even flinched.
Why would two girls be in one stall? Are they…?
My stomach tightened as I stepped closer. I knocked once. The door slid open too easily. Like it hadn't been locked at all.
And then I saw them.
Two young women stood facing each other, slumped against opposite ends of the stall like broken mannequins, their heads tilted at unnatural angles. Their eye sockets were empty, hollow, black pits streaked with dried blood. Whatever had taken their eyes hadn't been gentle. Torn flesh clung jaggedly around the sockets, and dark trails had run down their cheeks.
Their mouths were stretched wide open, jaws locked in silent screams so extreme it looked painful, like something had forced them open and left them that way.
Their skin was dry, cracked, greyish, lifeless like they'd been dead longer than they should have been. Deep claw marks raked across their arms, stomachs, and thighs, gouged so violently that muscle peeked through torn skin. Some wounds were layered over others, as if whatever did this hadn't stopped the first time.
Blood soaked their red cheerleading singlets, the white stripes stained brown. Their skirts were splattered, sticky, stiff with it and on their arms, Carved deep into the flesh was a symbol. A beta sign… with horns.
My vision blurred.
My ears started ringing so loudly it drowned out everything else. My chest tightened, breath coming in short, shallow gasps that burned my lungs. My hands shook violently.
No. No. No.
My legs gave out as I staggered backward, my heel slipping on something wet. I hit the floor hard, pain shooting up my spine, but I barely felt it.
I couldn't look away.
My stomach lurched. Heat rushed to my face, then drained all at once. I gagged, bile rising in my throat as my hands clawed uselessly at the tiled floor. Then I screamed.
The restroom door burst open as students rushed in.
I felt hands grabbing my shoulders, someone yelling my name, someone else swearing, another retching. It was indeed a terrible sight.
...
Sirens wailed around the school, their sound echoing off the buildings. The two dead girls were lifted onto stretchers and wheeled away as the NVPD, Northveil Police Department, swarmed the campus and began their investigation.
The restroom was sealed off with yellow police caution tape. Three fully armed officers stood guard, making sure no one went anywhere near it.
They questioned everyone, lecturers, deans, students. Even me.
"I told you," I repeated for what felt like the fifth time, my voice shaking, "I went to use the restroom like any normal student, and I found them like that."
I could tell they didn't fully believe me. But after the doctors on-site declared I was in severe shock, bordering on a breakdown, the questioning finally stopped.
The school was in chaos. Students murmured in frightened clusters. Some filmed everything on their phones. Others just stood there, hands clamped over their mouths, unable to hide their horror.
Soon after, a group of armed women arrived, seven of them, dressed in black-and-green tactical uniforms that reminded me of the navy. Their hair was pulled back into neat ponytails or tight bobs. They moved with discipline, forming a triangular formation, hands behind their backs, faces forward, feet perfectly aligned.
Their leader stepped out and shook hands with the head of the police department.
"We are the Bossa Nova Incorporated team," she said, her voice crisp and rehearsed. "We're here because of the incident. And we have reason to believe this was a demon attack."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
"A demon attack?" I whispered, my heart pounding. There was no denying it now, no normal investigation brought in military units like this.
"We have the situation under control," the police chief said, irritation creeping into his voice.
The woman's expression didn't change. "And how do I know you're not the demon?"
The air froze.
"What?!" the police chief, Zonk shouted. "Are you kidding me?"
Without another word, she pulled out a small chip-like device and held it close to his head.
Fear flashed across his face. "W-what is that?"
"This device would tell me whether or not your a demon" she replied calmly.
My breath caught. No… how is that even possible?
The entire school seemed to hold its breath.
After a few agonizing seconds, the device glowed green.
She gave a hand signal. The other women spread out, moving through the crowd with the scanners.
My thoughts spiraled. You're a demon. You're a demon.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't silence it. I needed to get out of there.
I tapped the grey-haired doctor standing beside me, he looked to be in his fifties. "I need to use the restroom," I whispered.
"In this condition? No," he croaked. "You stay where I can see you."
Panic surged. The armed women were getting closer.
Then a nurse appeared behind me, placing a firm but gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'll take her," she said.
I hadn't even noticed her there but she was my way out.
After a moment's hesitation, the doctor nodded. The nurse hurried me toward the staff restroom.
After a while, the armed women had regrouped.
"All clear, ma'am," they reported in unison. "No demons detected."
Krin stared in disbelief. That's impossible, there were at least three demons he knew of on campus. His eyes scanned the crowd, toward the doctors' area. I was gone, so were Vic and Tasha.
"Where are they?" he muttered.
"Your school is safe," the team leader announced. "It appears the perpetrator has already fled. Our work here is done."
They turned in perfect sync and marched away.
Krin raised a hand, wanting to stop them but a gentle touch on his shoulder sent his arm falling back down.
Vic stood behind him.
Beside Vic was a strange-looking girl, her presence unsettling, like they'd been there the entire time.
"Trust me," Vic murmured, eyes sharp. "You don't want to."
Meanwhile, back in the restroom, the nurse paced restlessly, glancing at the door every few seconds.
"Phew," she sighed at last, peeking through the crack. "They're gone."
Something about her tone made my skin prickle. "Is something wrong?"
"Er…" She smiled awkwardly. "Well… I really hate the Bossa Nova. They give me the creeps."
I stared at her, unimpressed. "You're gonna have to do better than that."
She sighed, brushing a strand of coffee-brown hair behind her ear. "Fine. I'm Tehila, a demongander."
I blinked. "You're a demon too?" I scoffed. "That explains everything."
"Well, you're welcome," she said lightly, then escorted me back to the clinic once the crowd had finally dispersed.
Later that evening, on my way back to the hostel, I ran into Krin, Vic and a strange-looking girl standing beside them.
"Hey, guys. What's up?" I asked.
"Not good," Vic replied, unusually serious.
"And who's that?" I asked, nodding toward the girl.
She had mismatched eyes, one green, one blue and short black hair that framed her face. Her build was muscular, intimidatingly so.
"Kora," she said simply. Her accent was thick, like English wasn't her first language.
"Hi," I waved. "Okay… what's this about?"
Vic tossed me a small photograph, my breath caught. It was the symbol carved into the girls' arms.
"The symbol," I gasped.
"Yeah," Vic said, hands slipping into his pockets. "And I think I know who it belongs to."
"And where to find him," Kora added.
"Where?" Krin asked flatly.
"There's a party tonight at Bench Motel," Kora said. "That's where we'll find the perpetrator."
I frowned. "I'm sorry... we?"
Vic's gaze locked onto mine, sharp, like he could see right through me "You saw what Bossa Nova has. With that device, it won't take long before they start hunting us. And if this guy keeps tearing people apart, it's only a matter of time before things get worse."
"I don't think I'd be comfortable talking to a serial killer," I snapped. "Do you even hear yourself?"
"He's a demon, Peige," Vic said calmly. "He hunts humans, not his own kind."
"No," Krin cut in sharply. "Absolutely not. We are not walking into a demon's den to get ourselves killed. Did you see those girls? We are not ending up like that."
Vic exhaled slowly. "I promise you, nothing will happen to either of you. I guarantee your safety."
Krin and I exchanged a look. It was insane but deep down… I wanted answers.
After a long moment, we agreed.