(CLICK HERE to witness what your younger self missed.)

Peabody Hall Miami University

Claiming a window table in the dining hall, the three students find that they have no appetite after getting very little sleep. Wearing the same clothes from the night before, they look disheveled and those sitting next to them quietly move to the next open space. Dark circles are under all of their eyes, Aurora looking the worst due to her previous late nights. Thomas can only stomach a glass of water while Apollo stares at a bagel like he has made the biggest mistake of his life. The trio yawn in unison, which earns chuckles from some of the nearby diners, who happily go back to their meals. Smacking lips and muffled burps sound like thunderclaps to the exhausted and stressed group until their ears mysteriously pop. Ignoring the strange event, Thomas and Aurora stare at the gloomy outdoors while Apollo continues picking seeds off the bagel.

“Why are we the only three who get the day off?” he finally asks the others. Keeping his voice low, the black-haired student looks around to see if anyone is watching them. “If this was about the hockey team and the sorority then shouldn’t the entire school take the day off? So far, it looks like everyone else is going about their business. All of those students had friends here, but we’re the only ones told to skip classes. This has nothing to do with Bryce or Harvey either because them leaving had to be a secret. Nobody has mentioned them at all on social media and I’ve been looking. Doesn’t that seem weird to you?”

“Weird is an understatement,” Thomas replies while he looks around the room. Feeling like the coast is clear, he takes a quick sip from his flask, which is filled with a strong coffee instead of alcohol. “Why do you think I got us out of there so quickly? Professor Soleman was acting strange from the beginning. I mean, he just walked out in front of the car and beckoned us to follow. None of us saw him coming and he would have had to be walking that way before we reached the corner. Too unnerving. Even worse, he hinted that he’s not the only one involved in . . . whatever this is. We need to keep our heads down until we know more.”

“No, we stay out of their way,” Aurora hisses in a hoarse voice. Taking Thomas’s water, she finishes the drink and hacks until her throat is clear. “Have you considered that we’ve been given this day off to calm down? This is a warning that we’re poking around something that we have no business going near. I don’t care what they’re up to. You shouldn’t either since we got in trouble after only two days of investigating. Take today to study and accept that we have more important things to worry about.”

After waiting for a janitor to walk by and out of earshot, Thomas slowly leans forward to whisper, “I refuse to be a victim. Chris and Jennifer are dead. Harvey and Bryce are missing. I don’t know why the first two were taken out, but the others were helping us. Professor Soleman, Charlene, and everyone else in their group won’t let us walk away so easily. They’ll come for us eventually.”

“And paranoia rears its ugly head.”

“I’d rather be cautious than ambushed.”

“Nobody is going to attack you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you’re just a student who can’t even focus on a major.”

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“Please talk some sense into him, brother.”

Snapped out of his trance, Apollo looks from Aurora to Thomas and tries to figure out what they are fighting about. All he can do is shrug helplessly before going back to the design he is making with poppy seeds. He is mildly surprised that he has had enough to make a unicorn, which is rearing up. Hearing his sister tapping on the table, Apollo glances at her and opens his mouth to speak. His jaws snaps shut at the sight of hundreds of ravens soaring over the trees and buildings. Their wings silently flap and none of the animals make a noise as they threaten to block the sun. Nobody else pays attention to the flock, making him fear that he has fallen asleep and is dreaming. He relaxes a bit when Thomas finally turns around and nearly jumps out of his seat, his roommate’s knuckles crack as he grips the table. Following their gaze, Aurora is less impressed by the birds, but watches them pass.

The instant his companions turn away, Apollo spots a white form within the flying mass of black. It takes him a second to realize that there is an albino raven hiding among the others, its beak only slightly darker than the rest of its body. Focusing on the rare bird, he watches it veer away from the flock and head toward the lake. As its black-feathered brethren disappear around one of the dorms, the solitary animal continues soaring over the water. The sun begins to pierce the clouds, casting blinding beams that make it impossible to track the raven. The last Apollo sees of it is a flicker of movement near the lake’s surface, which has become choppy and dark green.

“I have no idea what that’s about,” Aurora states before anyone can ask. Leaning back and crossing her arms, she takes a final glance out the window to see if any ravens are still in the area. “Birds aren’t my specialty, so I can only take a guess. They sensed something to eat over there, which could be an open dumpster or a dead deer. Although, there were a lot of them in that flock. Surprised the population is so big considering there are hawks and owls here. Those should keep the ravens under control. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen either of those animals around in the last month.”

“Another mystery or is it connected to the one we already have?” Thomas asks with a proud smile. Scratching his head, he tries to think of a story that would explain everything and happily snaps his fingers when he gets an idea. “Professor Soleman, Coach Warner, and Charlene made a deal with a big company. They get rich while toxic waste is dumped somewhere on or near campus. Just so happens this stuff killed off the hawk and owl populations, which they’re now trying to hide.”

“And you said I need to look into creative writing,” Apollo jokes, his stomach rumbling slightly. He is about to take a bite of his bagel when a foul smell makes his guts twist. “Just when I almost had an appetite. Does anybody else smell that? Can’t put my finger on what it reminds me of.”

“Like rotting meat,” Thomas says while sniffing the air. He freezes when a chorus of faint clicks echoes throughout the dining hall. “I’m starting to worry here. Not sure about what, but I just have a bad feeling.”

“Is that gas?” Aurora asks as she backs away from the heating vent. Wisps of white mist stream out of the slits, the vapor fading away as it touches the light. “Maybe they’re cleaning the ducts with water. Not sure if that’s a thing, but it makes more sense than everyone here getting poisoned. I feel dizzy.”

Apollo is the only one who manages to cover his nose and mouth before a flood of gas pours from the vents. He scrambles away from the table as Aurora and Thomas slump over, their loud snores shaking the windows. None of the other students act like they see the cloud that is flowing across the floor. Grotesque faces appear beneath all of the seats and remain, the open mouths pumping gas into the air. Reaching for their victims, the twisting tendrils are inhaled with every breath, bite, and uttered word. Feeling cornered and desperate, Apollo grabs an abandoned handkerchief from a table and presses it to his face. He climbs onto a chair, but jumps off immediately when one of the faces materializes on the floor. The bug-eyed apparition pouts and spits a stream of mist before stretching back into a shapeless form.

Once he gets to the stairs, Apollo sees that the gas is staying on the upper floor and only the first step has been covered. Determined to escape, he runs for the doors and tries to use his shoulder to open them. With a grunt, he puts all of his strength into the blow and tries not to yell at the pain that rockets down his arm. For a brief moment, he feels blood flowing under his sleeve, but he ignores out of self-preservation. Bracing his back foot against the bottom step, Apollo gets the doors to give an inch and feels a delicious rush of cool air come in from the empty lobby. With the creak of straining metal, the exit slams back together and knocks him to the ground. Looking up, he sees that the gas is flowing towards him, so he rushes back upstairs to avoid getting trapped in the narrow stairwell.

Apollo is about to grab a chair and charge the distant windows when he realizes that the students are no longer sitting still. While Thomas and Aurora are exactly as he left them, the others have broken out into a mad frenzy. He can only guess that in the short time he has been gone, they have raided the kitchen and salad bar. Food is on every flat surface and nearly all of it has been partially eaten, some pieces even showing signs that they were swallowed and spit back up. Famished students are everywhere gorging themselves on whatever they can greedily get their teeth into. Many are missing fingers, which they failed to get out of the way of their own mouths while eating. Apollo jumps back when a young woman rolls out from behind the drink dispenser and falls down the stairs. Her arms have already been devoured up to the elbows and she continues working on her legs even though she has broken her spine during the bouncing fall. As the real food runs out, more of the students settle for self-cannibalization or merely pouncing on the nearest person.

Unable to get to the windows or save his friends, Apollo carefully makes his way to the kitchen entrance. He looks around the corner to see if there is anyone there, but only the gutted staff are in view. Shocked by the violence, he tries not to throw up, but fails when he finds a cook with her head still stuck in the deep fryer. The sound of clanging pots and pans come from the back, so he grabs a carving knife in case he runs into a hungry student. Apollo stops when he realizes that he has not been covering his mouth since he got back upstairs. No longer afraid, he is about to return to the dining hall and make another attempt to rescue Aurora and Thomas when a metal colander hits him in the head. The impact is enough to knock him out, the last thing he sees being a short, hazy form standing on the counter.

(*insert feeble attempt at being witty about link here*)

Chateau De Noisy

Diving into the nearest room, Harvey crashes to the floor and scrambles to close the door before his pursuer can catch up. Nearly drowned out by a droning hum, he hears rapid footsteps in the distance and the occasional thud of a fist hitting a wall. Backing away from the door, he tries to catch his breath and calm himself enough to think. With no light, the terrified student does his best to feel around and move by sliding his feet. His fingers touch cool glass and metal shelves while he sniffs at the faint aroma of ammonia. Reaching the back wall, Harvey continues searching for another door until his hand goes into water. He jerks his arm back when he feels a fish bump into him since he remembers running by an aquarium full of piranha.

“The switch is out here,” Coach Warner says as the lights turn on. The door rattles as the teacher tries to force his way in, his attempt ending with a frustrated kick. “I know you don’t want to be here, but you have no choice. This is something that’s more important than either of us. The world deserves her return. Now, open the door and come with me. Your friends miss you.”

“I would rather go back to my room,” Harvey states while he takes in his surrounds. Shelves of fish tanks and maintenance equipment cover all of the walls, which are an ugly brown that reminds him of drying dirt. “I wish I had more to say, but you obviously won’t listen to reason or logic. Anything more would be a waste of breath. It would be wiser to use my energy for escaping.”

The crazed teacher pounds on the door before bending down to pointlessly slip a finger into the room. “You’re cornered and your size is useless since you only train your brain. Even if you could get out of the room, I’m still hunting you. At some point, we’ll have to get physical and that’s when you lose. Might as well give up now because this will only end one way. That’s you coming with me to do what you were gifted to do.”

Searching the room for a weapon, Harvey picks up an empty tank of water and places it on the floor. He gets a step ladder to help him reach the lone lightbulb in the ceiling, but is unsure how he can safely strip the wires. Looking around for rubber gloves, he finds nothing that would protect him and realizes that he might not have it in him to knowingly electrocute another human being. Giving on up his original plan, the panicking young man takes a seat and puts his head between his knees. It only takes a minute for Harvey to come up with a new idea, but he remains silent and still to make sure he is thinking clearly. Quietly getting to his feet, he gently tips over the tank and watches the water flow under the door. All of the stones scattered about the floor, none of them bouncing into the hallway.

Harvey rubs his eyes and braces himself for a fight even though he prays that he can escape instead. Tiptoeing through the tiny stones, he unlocks the door and shoves it open before hurrying back to the middle of the room. As he had hoped, Coach Warner barges in and charges, but the man trips on the damp rocks. While the teacher crashes to the floor, the quick-witted student darts into the hallway and charges toward where he remembers seeing stairs. It is not long before he is being chased again, but Coach Warner’s broken ankle makes it difficult for the man to catch up. The only reason the two remain close to each other is that Harvey is already tired and has never been a strong runner. Contrary to his large size, he never had an interest in sports or keeping in shape.

Rushing around a corner, Harvey momentarily stops when it looks like the hallway is warping and twisting. A vase getting thrown at his head, but hitting the wall, urges him to continue running for the only way out. It feels like it takes an hour for him to reach the exit, Coach Warner screaming at his heels the entire time. Stressed and nearing exhaustion, Harvey puts all of his weight behind getting through the door. He stumbles onto a metal grating that goes around the open top of the aquarium. There is no escape from the circular room unless he tries to climb the pipes that lead to a skylight. Grabbing a railing, he stops himself from falling into the water and whirls around to face his pursuer.

“Last chance to come quietly,” Coach Warner says as he blocks the only door. Reaching to the back of his head, his fingers come back with blood. “That’s going to require stitches. Who would have thought you’d be the difficult one? I was betting on Ms. Hall since always had more fire than you.”

“I thought I already had my last chance,” Harvey replies, unsure if he sounds defiant and witty. Looking over his shoulder, he can see the piranhas darting through the plants, their scales almost mesmerizing in the light. “Come any closer and I’ll jump into the water. It sounds like you need me alive, which means you won’t risk me killing myself. All I have to do is throw myself over the railing. Wouldn’t even take much effort.”

“So much for being the smart one,” the teacher claims with a smirk. Picking up a nearby pipe, he takes a few steps forward and finds that his target stays out of the aquarium. “I thought so. Not very good at bluffing, Mr. Pugh. I’ve played more than enough poker to see through your half-baked lies. This game is over.”

Coach Warner rushes forward with the pipe swinging for his prey’s stomach, but the younger man clumsily jumps to the side. Reflexes slowed by his injury and anger, the teacher trips over Harvey’s legs and topples into the water. He is about to thrash and swim when he remembers the piranha are attracted to erratic movement. Gently moving his limbs to float toward the edge, Coach Warner keeps his eyes on his victim, who is still dazed from the lucky fall. The two lock gazes as the teacher reaches the far end of the aquarium and begins to climb out. He is about to pull himself over the railing when his leg is jerked down, his injured foot still in the water. Both men look down to see a huge moray eel with its teeth embedded in Coach Warner’s flesh. The moment he tries to move again, the creature violently drags him to the bottom where he thrashes enough that the piranhas join the frenzy. Within seconds, the water is crimson and the surface remains perfectly still.

“Please don’t throw up,” a friendly voice says from behind Harvey. The young man jumps and backs away from the wetsuit-wearing brunette that seems to step out of the wall. “On second thought, feel free to vomit all you want. Just not on my fins because I just had the tips painted to look like rainbows. You can’t see them unless I’m in the water. By the way, I’m Dawn Addison and I’m a friend of your friends. We’ve all had terrific meetings. Though, you’re going to have to be my last one. Time is running out or of the essence or flying or money or something so cliché that I simply want to kill every author in the world.”

“What do you want from me?” Harvey asks, sensing that he is still in danger. Thinking she cannot catch him, he takes a step for the open door, which melts off the wall. “I must be dreaming. That can’t happen in the real world. Yet, I can tell that Coach Warner just died and it’s not in my head. Maybe I passed out from seeing the accident and now this is a dream. That must be it.”

“Unless everything has been a dream and only now you’re waking up to reality,” the woman responds before hopping onto the railing. Pulling two tridents out of her hair, she casually walks along the slick metal. “I fear that you aren’t ripe yet. The piece I need won’t fit and is growing funny. At least from what I can tell from here. Excuse me while I take a closer look. I’ll buy you an ice pop afterwards.”

Before Harvey can react, the tridents are slammed into his feet and the shafts grow to wrap around his arms. With the young man stuck to the floor, Dawn has no problem climbing onto his shoulders and begins tapping on his head. She cracks her knuckles before digging her nails into his skull and forcing the bone apart. Frowning at the exposed brain, she wraps her legs around Harvey’s neck while poking at the organ. When his nose twitches, she happily probes the spot to repeat the spasm and make it occur in a bouncy rhythm. Dawn stops when she fears that the brain will become damaged and her finger gets tired. Slamming the skull shut, she remains sitting on the young man’s shoulders and lets out a sputtering sigh.

“I need to put a little extra work into you,” she whispers into Harvey’s ear. Removing her fins, Dawn slides to the floor and takes off her wetsuit to reveal a colorful dress. “Let the fun begin and pay close attention. Reality and dreams are one and the same. We simply pick the one we prefer and hold onto it for dear life. That and feel free to scream at the top of your lungs in agony when the moment feels right.”

(So close to the end! CLICK HERE to play catch up.)

University of Toronto

Bryce is stirred by songbirds, the tiny creatures flitting by the tinted window that looks over the lake. The young woman sits up in an unfamiliar bed and rubs her eyes, a heavy grogginess making it difficult to focus. It takes her a moment to realize she is naked, but she feels no sense of shame. Leaving the sheet behind, a familiar scent touches Bryce’s nose and her heart flutters with every breath. She wanders over to a dresser and opens a drawer to find a collection of lingerie, each one from a wish list that she only shared with one person. Stretching her arms and arching her back, she notices a torn teddy hanging from a ceiling fan. Curious about the ruined garment, she climbs onto the bed and carefully takes it down. Without thinking, she presses it to her face and inhales the smell that has permeated the entire hotel room.

Hearing movement in the bathroom, Bryce vaguely remembers spending the night with Trina. The longer she thinks about the beautiful event, the more vivid the memories and emotions become. With a mischievous grin, she returns to the dresser and searches for a bra and panty set that she knows is in the drawer. To her dismay, she notices it already ripped and piled beneath a table. Knowing she has to think quickly, Bryce searches for a combination that she knows Trina will enjoy. After choosing a pair of crimson shorts that hug her curves and a black sports bra, she strategically puts a little water from an ice bucket on her skin. Checking herself in the mirror, the young woman smiles and jumps onto the bed where she strikes a pose that part of her knows is more ridiculous than seductive.

“I can hear you moving out there,” Trina calls from the bathroom. She is momentarily drowned out by a shower turning on, but the door cracks open to let her speak clearly. “Getting away from everyone was a great idea. Both of us really needed the break. Not that we’re physically resting. Do you want me to invite you in or will you surprise me? I’m up for either way.”

“I was hoping to stay in bed,” Bryce admits, hiding her disappointment. Hearing a thud on the window, she turns in time to see a raven fly away with a crimson songbird held tightly in its beak. “Since we aren’t going anywhere, we can start here and move into the shower. Love the smell of the room, so I don’t want to risk changing it. Is that a new perfume that you started wearing?”

“It’s called Odeur de Fantome,” her girlfriend replies before coughing. Steam wafts out of the room and drifts toward the bed like a warm fog. “It’s new and I wanted to experiment. Very intoxicating and makes me feel like myself. Best thing about this perfume is that it’s made better when you wear it in a hot shower.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I swear it’s true.”

“You’re trying to trick me into the bathroom.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Licking her lips, Bryce is about to climb out of bed when her legs lock and she is left dangling over the edge. Pushing herself into a more comfortable position, she stares at the stiff limbs and tries to massage them. She wiggles her toes and bends her knees, which show no signs of the momentary affliction. Once Bryce can move both legs again, she swings them to the floor first and waits a moment before standing up. A surge of pain rockets up her spine and drives back onto the bed, the violent impact threatening to break the frame. The agony is gone almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving the young woman gasping for air and too terrified to move. Her eyes dart from one corner of the room to the other, her brain searching for anything that would explain the strange occurrence. It is not until she hears Trina singing her favorite song that Bryce clenches her fists and jumps to the other side of the bed. Nothing happens this time, but she moves carefully to be safe and keeps one hand on the moist wall. It takes a few steps for her to be sure that she is back to normal even though there is a lingering sense that something is wrong and she is in danger.

Coming to the bathroom door, Bryce is amazed at how much steam is flowing out of the crack. Stepping inside, she cannot see anything in the hot fog and immediately strips off her clothes that are already sticking to her skin. Not hearing Trina, she opens her mouth to call out her girlfriend, but a violent cough cuts off her voice. Before she can recover, Bryce steps on a pool of warm and sticky liquid. Unable to see the floor, she bends down and puts her hand on the damp tiles. A ripple of fear runs through her body when she finds blood on her fingers, a horrible stench suddenly filling the room. Groans and a gagging gasp for air emerge from the thickest part of the steam where a bloated silhouette moving from one side of the room to the other. Too scared to continue forward, the young woman blindly goes back to the door and runs her hands along the walls.

Finding a pair of switches, Bryce flips one and nearly screams when the lights go off. The sensation of fingers gently touching her bare back calm her down, but the feeling disappears when she turns around. Standing in the darkness, she listens to a wet plop that repeats from the direction of the shower. Hoping that her mind is playing tricks on her, Bryce flicks both switches to put the lights and fan back on. The steam is sucked through the ceiling vent as her eyes focus on Trina. She shrieks and backs away from the dead body, its internal organs dripping out of its mouth and into the toilet.

“Poor little thing,” a voice says from the bed. Slithering out of the covers, a brunette in ebony lingerie playfully slinks toward the terrified student. “You should have listened to your mind and muscles. Much smarter than that tattered piece of junk you call a heart. Kept up the strong façade for longer than I expected, but you couldn’t hide from this. By the way, you should feel guilty. That one would still be alive if you never entered her life. Maybe. Hard to tell since I’ve killed people for less. Now, this is when you ask who I am and I proudly declare that Dawn Addison is . . . Kind of dead?”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Bryce mutters as she moves into a corner. She tries to slide down to the floor, but the strange woman grabs her by the chest. “None of this can be real. I have to be dreaming, so I want to wake up now. Unless I died in the library. I think I remember getting crushed by a shelf. What are you doing here?”

“Having fun,” Dawn replies with a wide smile. She goes in to lick the side of her victim’s face, but abruptly veers to the left and kisses a face in the wallpaper. “Whether you think you’re alive or dead is not my concern. I’m only here to play and tenderize. Need to make sure the piece I need is ripe. You and the others take less effort than the other others.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course not. Why would a cog understand its purpose?”

“Stop touching me.”

“Like I said, I’m checking to make sure the piece is ripe.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Oh dearie, I haven’t even started.”

With a wild grin, Dawn pushes against Bryce’s chest until her hands begin sinking into the soft and sweaty flesh. Bird-like claws burst from the wall to grab the red-haired woman’s flailing limbs and prevent her from escaping. All attempts to scream are stoppered by the struggling victim’s tongue enlarging like a balloon to fill her entire mouth. There is no blood seeping from the neat wounds that enlarge as the mysterious killer grabs her real target. A golden eyepatch sprouts from Dawn’s face as she pulls out Bryce’s lungs and leans in for a closer look. She carefully sniffs at the organ, which is a healthy pink and rapidly moving due to the young woman’s rising terror. Pulling them up more, she checks the exposed cavity to make sure she is not missing anything. Shrinking her head, the reality-warping killer sticks her face into the gore, which shifts to avoid touching her.

“Perfect and pretty,” Dawn announces as she shoves the lungs back into place. She yanks off the skin of her hands like there are latex gloves, the flesh beneath clean and tan. “Thank you for being a helpful hostess. Wish all of the pieces were as well-behaved as you. One in particular is giving me some trouble. Do you have any suggestions? Hello? Now, it’s just rude to collapse and drool on a guest’s feet. Kids these days have no manners.”