Creepypasta #1206: I Should Have Canceled Class

Length: Super long

I had just situated myself
comfortably into my seat when the speakers of my personal computer produced the
familiar sound of a well-known video chat application making contact. I looked
over the ascending rows of theater seating that filled the large room being
projected onto my monitor. 

On an ordinary day, the seats would be mostly filled
with the hundred or so students forced to take my class in order to fulfill
general education requirements. Seeing as I was monitoring the classroom from
the comfort of my own home instead of behind the large desk at the front corner
of the classroom, it was clearly not an ordinary day. I was quickly able to
count a total of five individuals sitting in seats scattered throughout the
classroom staring up at the big white screen my head and torso were currently
being projected onto.

Stealing
a quick glance at the blizzard raging outside my window, I was surprised five
students had even bothered to show up. I am still not sure exactly when the
storm had started, but when I woke up that morning it had been already going
strong long enough to cover ground that had been completely bare when I went to
sleep the night before. 

By noon, there had been no way I was going to drive my
ancient Chevy Malibu down the steep half mile driveway where it sat. So instead
of going to campus for my six-thirty class that night, I sent out an email to
all my students explaining I would be telecommunicating to the classroom that
night. My email also encouraged anyone nervous about getting on the snow
covered roads to stay home. Instead of the normal class, I would use the two and
a half hours to review previous material for the upcoming final. The students
sitting inside my monitor had either decided the review was worth the snowy
commute or had completely failed to go over their emails for the day.
Regardless of why, five students had come to my class and I was determined to
make their trip worth it.

As
the first hour came to an end, I can truthfully say nothing out of the ordinary
had occurred. I went over a bit of the most basic information they would need
for the final, and began taking questions from the five of them about anything
they needed reviewed. Part way through an explanation about the functions and
characteristics of mitochondria for a girl in the front row wearing a bright
red scarf, I noticed there were now six students in the classroom. I had not seen the person in the dark green hoodie enter the room
at all. He also wore his hoodie in a way that made it impossible to make
out facial characteristics. The only thing I could make out from my screen was
a chin jutting out. 

I assumed he must have quietly come in while I was
answering an earlier question and didn’t want to be identified for being a late
comer. I finished up answering scarf girl’s question and decided to see if this
new person had anything they needed answered.

“How
about our new friend in the back?” I asked. “Do you have any questions about
final?”

The
five other students turned around in their seats and looked at the back of the
classroom for the new student. For an awkward second or two, no one said
anything, and then a broad shouldered athletic looking man on the right side of
the class laughed slightly. A few other students joined him in the short
awkward laughter and turned back towards the front of the room. Still the
student didn’t say anything. Unsure of the reaction of both the late comer and
his fellow classmates, I decided it was better to move on.

Over
the next forty minutes, I answered a few more questions from students, but it
seemed like things were starting to wind down. I looked at the snow falling
rapidly outside my window and decided that even if these students didn’t have
to drive, the later I kept them, more dangerous even walking back to the dorms
would become. To wrap up I quickly went over the structure of the final exam,
and reminded them using the PowerPoint slides would go a long way towards
helping them prepare.

“Well
I want thank you again for braving the storm despite the fact I couldn’t be
with you in person,” I said about to release them to head home. “Have a great
night, and remember to be careful.”

Before
I could finish, my monitor went completely dark. From the speakers I
heard a student suddenly yelp. In a panic I moved my cursor around, and found I
still had control. It was not the program freezing or my computer ceasing to
work. 

Just as the thought crossed my mind that something might have damaged the
camera in the classroom impeding my video feed, a red light radiated from the
monitor. Bathed in this light sat the six students I had previously been
teaching. Most of them looked around the classroom in confusion. I quickly
realized it was the emergency lights the school had installed in each of the
classrooms just in case the power had gone out.

“Well
this has never happened in any of my other classes,” a student on the right
side of my screen wearing the suit and poorly tied tie which was the uniform of
a fraternity pledge. “Is this normal?”

“Of
course it isn’t normal,” shot back a girl wearing an over-sized plastic looking
parka that made whooshing sounds over the mics wired throughout the classroom
as she got up out of her seat. She began gathering all of her things together.

“The
power must have gone out because of the storm,” said scarf girl as she also
started gathering up her things. “We might as well head home. I’m pretty sure
the professor was wrapping things up anyway.”

“The
power can’t be out if I’m still able to see and hear you,” I stated, studying
the monitor, but no one in the room said anything in response. Then the
realization struck that if I was only seeing the red emergency lights
illuminating the room, it meant the light from the projector was not displaying me
anymore. Judging from their reaction to my comment, or lack thereof, I also
came to the conclusion they weren’t hearing me either. 

As far as they could
tell, all power to the room, besides the emergency lighting, was completely shut
down. I sat in fascination as the students gathered their belongings and headed
to one of the two exits at the back of the classroom. Well, all of them packed
up except the latecomer in the dark green hoodie who still sat in the back row, staring in the direction of the projector.

The
first person to reach on of the doors was a student who looked old enough to be
a fourth year senior. Which was odd for the beginner level course I was
teaching, but not unheard of either. When he pressed in the push bar on the
door, the familiar thud was picked up over the microphones, but looking at the
monitor I noticed there was no give to the door.

“Hey,”
the senior said loud enough for all of his fellow classmates to hear. “This
door won’t open.”

Quickly
the athlete closed the gap between him and the other exit door and put pressure
on the push bar. Again there was a familiar thud, but the door refused to give.
Trying again the athlete placed his hands on the bar and pushed hard with his
feet angled behind him, but even with all his strength the door refused to
budge.

“This
one isn’t going anywhere either,” the athlete said sharing a worried glance
with the senior standing on the other side of the room. A few more times I
could hear both of the students pushing in the push bar of the door, but still
something was keeping them from opening.

“Maybe
when the power goes out the doors lock or something,” the frat boy said, making
his way to the door the senior was still trying to open on the right side of
the classroom.

“That
wouldn’t make any sense,” scarf girl replied while she made her way to the door
the athlete had given up trying to open with brute strength. “If they locked in
an emergency it would be one hell of a fire hazard.”

While
the students discussed the door situation, I began running through the settings
of the video chat program to see if there was anything I could do to get my
microphone to work, but nothing seemed to be broken on my end. For the time
being all I could do was watch as these students tried to make their way out of
a suddenly locked classroom. None of it made any sense to me though. I had
taught in that class for years, and I knew for sure there was no electronic
lock system in the doors. Hell, I’m not sure if there was a key that locked
these particular doors anymore.

“I
have shit I have to do tonight,” parka girl whined indignantly as she shoved
the senior away from the door. Not interested in a fight, he appeared to step
away from the door to allow her room. She violently began pushing the push bar
in over and over again. Every time the thud was produced, the outcome remained
the same. The door was not going to open. As a minute or two passed, the other
four active students took seats near the end of the classroom. Whether through
defiance or disbelief of the reality of the situation, parka girl continued to
try to force the door open.

“For
the love of god would you let it go,” the athlete called over to parka girl.
“Neither of the doors are opening, and all you are doing is giving me a
headache.”

“What
would you have us do then?” Parka girl spat in an increasingly agitated tone.
“Just sleep here tonight, and hope someone comes in the morning to get us?”

“I
think we are getting a little bit ahead of ourselves,” scarf girl said, aligning
herself with the athlete. “It hasn’t even been ten minutes yet. We should
figure out what is going on before we start talking about spending the night.”

“Well
while you all sit around figuring things out, I’m going to get out of this
room,” parka girl said, making her way through the back row of theater towards
the exit closest to the athlete and scarf girl. Her plastic parka swished along
the way. 

I noticed as she slowly pushed past the cramped seating with all of
her belongings, she was heading towards the student in the dark green hoodie. I
had not been looking at him the whole time, but I would have bet money that he
had not moved an inch this whole time. 

Slowly I had a feeling of paranoia wash
over me as I realized he was the last person in the classroom, and could have
easily made all of this happen. I wanted to yell at my computer as parka girl closed
in on the center of the row where he sat staring directly at the front of the
classroom. But I knew they couldn’t hear anything I might say. When she was
within a few feet of him, my screen again went dark.

Much
like the first time the lights had gone out, a scream exploded from my speakers, causing me to jump in my seat. This scream had been much louder than the first
though, and it had been accompanied by a loud crash. After a few seconds of
complete darkness and silence, the red emergency lights once again flickered
back to life. In the aisle on the right side of the classroom stood the frat
boy and senior, and on the left aisle stood the athlete and scarf girl. They
were all staring at the middle of the back row. I couldn’t see either the
hooded individual or parka girl anymore.

After
sitting in total confusion for what felt like eternity, I saw the blond hair of
parka girl suddenly pop up from behind the seats in the second to last row. She
slowly made her way to her feet while looking around the room as if trying to
spot something.

“Which
one of you just pushed me?” She yelled, not trying to hide the rage in her
voice.

“What
are you talking about?” The frat boy asked in total confusion. I wasn’t sure
how she didn’t know who had pushed her. Clearly it was the person in the hoodie
who had pushed her.

“None
of us were even close to you,” the athlete said, calmly making his way back to
his seat. “You must have tripped when the lights went out. It’s nothing to be
embarrassed about.”

“I
know there is nothing to be embarrassed about,” parka girl said behind clenched
teeth. “I’m not embarrassed, because I felt someone push me to the ground right
after the lights went out.”

“That
doesn’t make any sense,” the senior said also making his way to a nearby seat.
“The light was out for ten seconds tops. No one in here could have made it to
you and back to their side of the classroom that fast.”

“I
know what I fucking felt,” parka girl yelled, turning her attention to the
senior who was once again nestled into a seat. “I don’t know where any of you
assholes get off…”

“Hey,”
scarf girl interrupted. “We have only been in the dark for a few minutes and
everyone is at each other’s throats. Let’s just calm down and figure out what
we are going to do.”

None
of this made any sense to me. Parka girl had clearly been pushed by the person
in the hoodie who had to be hiding behind a nearby seat. As they were talking I
scanned the seats looking for the individual, but as far as I could tell he was nowhere to be seen. He must have gotten just off camera somewhere before
the lights went on, which once again backed my belief that he had something to do
with all of this.

“Don’t
bother,” the athlete said, putting his feet up on the back of the chairs in
front of his seat. “She has been making this whole lock-down all about her from
the second it started. She is a lost cause.”

I
witnessed true fury cross the face of parka girl at this, but before she could
rebut, the lights once again went out. There was no screams this time, but
instead an awful gurgling sound started making its way through the speakers. At
first I thought the speakers themselves were producing it, but I quickly
realized the sound was far too wet sounding to have been produced by electronic
malfunctions. 

While I looked over the electronics in front of me, the lights had
come back on though, and my home office was quickly filled with the sounds of
screams from multiple people. When I looked back at my video feed I saw the
horrible origin of the gargling sound.

The
athlete who only about thirty seconds ago had been reclining from a seat near
the back of the theater was no longer sitting. Instead he was being held in the
air from his throat by the individual wearing the dark green hoodie. Despite
the scrawny build of the hooded individual, he appeared to hold the much larger
athlete off the ground with little effort. 

Unwilling to just take the abuse, the
athlete was fighting back as hard as he could muster. Both of his hands clawed
at the single hand holding him off the ground and refusing air into his lungs.
With both feet he violently kicked in all directions, more than once striking
directly into the side of the hooded figure, but nothing he did seemed to faze
his attacker.

I
looked on with horror as the other four people in the classroom stood staring
at the man fighting for his life. No one stepped forward to do anything. I
yelled at my screen for someone to grab a hold of either of the two people, but
of course no one in the classroom could hear me. While the athlete continued to
fight, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to call for help, but the storm must
have damaged a cellphone tower somewhere. So instead of saving the man’s life I
had to sit and watch.

For
several minutes the athlete continued to fight for his life with all the
strength he could muster. His face becoming first crimson, and then purple. At
some point though, his legs had stopped kicking at his attacker, and one of his
arms had fallen limply to his side. His eyes had even begun to glaze over, no
longer looking for help from any of his fellow classmates who still stood
petrified with fear around him. The only parts of the athlete still at work were his open mouth hopelessly gasping for air with no open route to his lungs, and a
single arm still clawing at the hooded figure’s death grasp. 

After another few
moments, his mouth stopped gasping and his arm
fell lifelessly to his sides. The figure dropped the large man, who crumbled to
the ground and out of my view behind the theater chairs. The lights went out
again, accompanied by the screams of the other four individuals in the room. When they came back on, the hooded individual had once again moved out of my
view.

For
a few moments the four students I could see in my classroom sat in total
silence. I also sat, unable to completely comprehend what had just happened. I
sat reliving the last few moments of that poor young man’s life over and over
in my head. My trance was finally snapped by the terror filled screams of parka
girl as she collapsed to the floor of the theater. Searching her immediate area, I didn’t see any sign of the hoodie wearing murderer. I realized the screams
were in response what she had just witnessed.

I
wasn’t the only one cut out of the trance because of the screaming of parka
girl though. As if suddenly filled with new vigor, scarf girl dropped all of the
personal belongings she had been carrying, and made her way to the athlete’s
body. She momentarily disappeared out of my view behind the theater chairs.
After a few seconds, she popped back up and looked at her fellow classmates.

“He
is dead,” she stated through a mixture of fear and sorrow for the deceased.

“What
the hell just happened?” The frat boy yelled back at her, looking around the classroom.
He too, had abandoned his materials in the seat he had previously been sitting
in. He began to carefully make his way towards scarf girl with the senior close
behind him. Meanwhile, parka girl continued to scream wildly from the spot in
the room where she collapsed after seeing the athlete strangled. From the look
in her eyes, no amount of consoling was going to bring her back from the terror
that had enveloped her.

Several times I had shouted at the screen, pleading with the students deaf to my
voice to look for the murderer. As far as they knew, he could be behind any
blind spot in the classroom waiting to take his next victim, but all four of
them seemed completely oblivious to the reality of the danger they were
currently in. I also continued to try and get a signal from my phone or contact
any of the members of the faculty or administration over the internet, but all
attempts I made were falling on deaf ears. Eventually, I turned my full
attention back to the screen and the four students I could see.

The
red lights flickered again. A moment ago, the senior had stood off to the side
of the walkway looking over the body of the athlete. After the lights had
stabilized, he was no longer standing alone. Instead the hooded figure stood
only a few inches away from his face studying him. I yelped with surprise at
the two students now standing so close to one another. The lights had only been
out for a fraction of a second and there was no way he could have made it to
the senior so quickly. Again the lights flickered for a second, and the hooded
figure was once again gone. All of this couldn’t have happened in more than a
span of ten seconds, but still I had just witnessed it occur. Oddly though, at
no point did the senior react to the thing that had temporarily been studying
him so intently. It was then I knew nobody in that room with whatever that
thing was could see it. I was the only witness to its movements.

The
lights went off again for about thirty seconds. During this time, the screams of
parka girl increased to a deafening screech I had never thought a human was
capable of making. I could also hear the rustle of people moving around the
classroom.

When
the lights finally came back on, parka girl was no longer screaming. Instead she
stood upright staring at the front of the classroom where the projection screen
was located. I noticed that in the darkness and commotion, the others in the
room had made their way down to the front of the classroom. Parka girl was
staring directly at them. They stood there huddled together, staring at parka
girl as her tired eyes stared down at them.

“Somebody
help me,” parka girl said in a voice so weak the microphones throughout the
classroom had just barely registered it. Slowly a trickle of blood made its way
down from the corner of her mouth. It was followed immediately by a gargled
cough that sent a mouthful of the viscous substance pouring down the front of
her face. In a quick jerking motion, parka girl’s head was thrown backwards at a
harsh angle, as if someone had grabbed a fistful of her hair and was yanking on it. 

She once again began to screech as her chest began to push forward away from
the rest of her body. Her screams grew in intensity as horrible cracking sounds
poured out my computer’s speakers. With one final crack her chest cavity gave
way to what I realized was a straightened arm that had slowly made its way
through her torso. 

Methodically, the arm pulled itself back out of the hole it had
created inside of her, and from it poured a horrifying mixture of blood, bone
fragments, shredded internal organs, and stuffing from her over-sized parka.
Her head was released from the grasp that kept her upright and her lifeless
body slumped to the floor. Standing behind her was the hooded monster. The
lights flickered, and the hooded figure once again vanished.

In
the silence that followed I became aware of two things. Warm tears were
currently streaming down my cheeks and the three remaining students were
huddled close together in the front of the classroom. For a few moments no one
spoke to one another. Scarf girl and the senior sat with their heads aimed
directly where parka girl had been alive only a bit ago. The frat boy was
looking in the opposite direction of the death with his eyes closed taking deep
labored breaths. The silence was broken when he leaned closer to the wall the
projection was on and vomited just out of sight of my camera.

“What
are we going to do?” The senior whispered to his companions. “That girl’s chest
just exploded. It was like something clawed its way through her.”

“We
need to find a way out of here,” scarf girl stated, turning her attention to the
frat boy who had just finished his business. “Do you think you can get up?”

“What
is the fucking point?” The frat boy yelled back at her in a tone much louder
than his companions. “We are going to die in this god damn classroom.”

“We
aren’t going to die,” scarf girl said placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort
him. “We just need to stay calm and figure out what we are going to do next.”

As
she finished her reassuring statement, the lights went out again. I heard the
frat boy yell in fear but the other two stayed quiet. This darkness lasted for
about a minute or two, without anyone really saying anything. I was just
starting to wonder if my camera had actually stopped recording when I heard the
familiar thud of a doors pull bars. The room was suddenly filled with
incandescent lights from the hallway attached to the large auditorium classroom.

“The
door is open,” the frat boy yelled, jumping to his feet.

“No,”
yelled scarf girl, as the senior unsuccessfully grabbed for the running frat
boy. He stumbled a bit as he made his way to the aisle with the open door. My
eyes adjusted now to the light pouring into the darkened classroom. I noticed a
familiar figure standing off to the side of the aisle. Of course the frat boy
couldn’t have seen the trap he was heading into, and no amount of my yelling
could have stopped him from meeting his fate.

As
he was passing the figure, I saw its leg lift up, and with one powerful thrust, it
made contact with the right knee of the frat boy. A horrible sound was
unleashed from his throat as the pain forced all of the air out of his lungs.
Unable to completely stop the momentum he had gained making his way to the door, the frat boy tumbled forward, with his ruined leg moving in unnatural ways all
along the way. The hooded thing made its way slowly towards the screaming frat
boy, who tried desperately to move into a position that would alleviate the
terrible pain radiating from his destroyed knee. Eventually he worked his way
into a sitting position with his legs out flat and his arms propping him up.
The front of his body was facing the front of the classroom. 

For a moment, he
stopped screaming and a look of disbelief sat across his face as he stared at
his injury. All the while the figure had positioned itself directly behind the
frat boy. Slowly it lowered down to a crouching position and placed its left
arm on the side of the frat boy’s head and placed its right hand on his chin. 

The frat boy didn’t scream again. He merely looked in panic towards the two
people still huddled in the front of the classroom. He opened his mouth to say
something, but before he could get it out, there was a horrible cracking noise.
It took me a moment to understand that although I was looking at the front of
the frat boy’s body still sitting on the ground facing his classmates, I was
looking at the back of his head. His body collapsed backwards as his lifeless
arms no longer had the strength to keep him propped up. The thud that followed
was followed by the swift closing of the door at the back of the class, and the
room was once again filled with darkness.

In
short order the room was bathed in the now familiar red light of the emergency
lighting. I could see my remaining two students sat where they had been moments
ago when their classmate was still alive. Slowly the senior got to his feet, and
put his hand out for scarf girl to take. For a moment she stared at it from her
knees as if an alien object had just been placed in front of her face.

“We
need to get out of here, and I think I have an idea,” the senior said, putting
his hand closer to her and indicting he wanted her to take it. Recognition crossed
her face as she regained her sense. She placed her hand in his and he pulled
her up to her feet.

“What
are we going to do?” She asked.

“Well, I’ve been told a lot of these old classrooms were built with not so great
materials. I was thinking if we put enough force behind one of those doors, we
might be able to break them off their hinges. All we need is something small
and strong we can use to pry.” The lights went off again and the senior
suddenly stopped going over his plan.

When
the lights came back on, scarf girl must have seen the senior standing in front
of her with his mouth suddenly opened as wide as it could be forced. From my
screen, I saw the hooded creature using its hands to force his mouth to its
physiological limit. He struggled against the figure with his hands, but of
course it was to no avail. With one quick downward motion with its hand, the
senior’s jaw was completely separated from the rest of his head. 

Scarf girl
screamed and fled from the senior, as streaks of blood splattered against her.
The figure tossed the dislocated jaw across the room and grabbed the brown hair
on the back of the senior’s head. With another quick motion, the monster
brought the senior’s head to the ground with such force, blood and brain matter
shot in all different directions. The figure came back to its feet as the body
of the senior convulsed. The lights flickered once again and the only living
person left in the room was scarf girl, huddled again in the spot she had been
about a minute ago.

For
the next ten minutes I watched as the poor girl sat weeping in that spot.
Several times I tried my phone and email, knowing full well that I would not be
able to get any communication out to the world. So for the most part I just sat
and watched the room where four of my students had been viciously murdered.
Every now and then, the lights would flicker, and the hooded demon would
momentarily be standing in a different part of the room, but in all that time
it never approached the poor girl. It just looked at her from a distance.

As
I began to hope the girl was spared from a fate like the ones we had just
witnessed, a new light joined the red emergency lights. It was a harsh white
light from behind my camera. Scarf girl squinted up at the picture, that was
apparently too harsh to see clearly after all that time in the much darker
emergency lights. Her eyes eventually adjusted though, and a look of recognition
passed over her face. She quickly got up and ran closer to the camera where I
was viewing the class.

“Professor, oh god, please,” she yelled through the tears running down her face. I realized
all at once the harsh light was the projector screen now displaying my face to
the classroom again. I tried to yell a few things but she did not respond to
them in any way. She could see me, but she couldn’t hear me. She was now
standing so close to the camera, my monitor was filled with her terror stricken
face. “There is something in the classroom, and it killed all of them. I’m the
only one left. You have to do something please. It is going to kill me…”

Her
pleas stopped suddenly as a look of panic came over her face. Her mouth opened
as if to say something again, but nothing escaped it. Her eyes darted from side
to side and slowly her face began to take on an ever darkening hue of purple. The
scarf on her neck pulled tight by some unseen force directly behind her. Just
like the athlete, I sat helplessly as she slowly had the life choked out of her
body. 

With her face right in the camera I
saw as the blood vessels in her face began to bulge from behind the skin. I saw
the tears streaking down her face as she fought for just a little bit of
oxygen. I saw the blood vessels in her eyes burst behind the pressure. Finally
I saw the hope and then life burn away behind those eyes when that thing had
finished its work. Then, as it released the scarf it used to block the
life-saving oxygen from her throat, she fell to the floor.

In
her place stood staring the hooded demon staring directly at the camera. It was
so close, its breath fogged the bottom half of my feed as it looked directly at
me. Even this close I was unable to make out what it looked like from behind
the hood from where the nose would rest up, but I could now see a tiny mouth
placed above its chin. Slowly the mouth grew larger and larger into a twisted
smile whose corners extended beyond the portions of the face I could see.
Through the screen, I could feel the sick pleasure it had making me watch it
slaughter the students in my classroom. Once again my video feed went black.

For
a minute the lights stayed out. I could see just myself in the darkened screen
of my monitor. My eyes blood shot and cheeks chapped from the tears that had
been streaming down my face. I saw an undeniable look of terror written across
my face. A fundamental change in my reflection I still notice when I look in a
mirror today.

Eventually
the lights turned on again, but it wasn’t the red emergency lights I had been
become accustomed to over the course of the incident. Instead it was the normal
glow of the incandescent lights the classroom was usually illuminated with.
Looking around the room, I noticed the bodies and gore left behind by the attack
had disappeared entirely. Instead there sat the five students I watched die
horribly over the course of the last half of an hour sitting in the seats they
had chosen for themselves during the class period. If someone walked into the
classroom right that moment, they wouldn’t believe anything out of the ordinary
had happened.

Only
I knew something wasn’t right. Each of the students was wearing the clothing
they had on during the class. But underneath these clothes was a dark green
hooded shirt that had been pulled up over their faces. Looking at them I was
unable to make out any distinguishable facial features. Quietly, each of them
collected their belongings and headed out of the classroom without talking to
either me or one another. Never once after the lights had come back on did I
see the hooded devil that had brutally murdered those five students and
replaced them with something those shadows of themselves.

I
didn’t go to the final the following week. I told my boss I had a family
emergency of some sort, and told her my TA would be more than qualified to give
the tests out to my students. I asked my TA to send me a
picture of the class at the end with some excuse about needing it to remember
them by. He thought it was sweet and equated it to sentimental feelings towards
the class I had taught. I let him believe that. The reality of what I was
looking for was much less believable.

Around
nine on the night of the final, I sat in my home office with my sixth glass of
whisky. I sat
thinking about the five students I had watched viciously destroyed before my
eyes. I thought about how worthless I had been when they needed me to save
them. I thought about how I had dreamed about them screaming in agony or
gasping for air every night since it had happened.

My
trance was broken when the phone buzzed on the desk in front of me. I downed
what was left in the glass in front of me and opened the text message form my
TA. Most of the students were goofing around for the picture or smiling at the
camera. But I distinctly saw five individuals wearing hoods obscuring their
facial features sitting in the same seats they had the night before.

It was true I couldn’t see their
faces, but I recognized each of them without fail. But the five of them weren’t
the only familiar faces in the crowd. In the back was another hooded individual
with a familiar crooked and far too large smile. I couldn’t mistake it
anywhere. It is all I see when I close my eyes.

Credits to: JDerrick29 (story)