A faint scream made Theresa open her eyes with a gasp. She swiveled toward the entrance of the school chapel behind the rows of pews, dazzling white from the early Monday morning. There were faint laughter from the students outside but inside the room she saw no one. She looked further, across the corner of the hall but there was none. She thought that it might be something else and just tried to quickly ignore it. However, she couldn't help but try to discern what was that sound right now. It was somebody screaming, like asking for help. Something like that. But after a few minutes, her head began to spin from thinking too much that she began slightly rubbing her clasped hands against each other. She looked back at the altar and sighed. After this, I really am gonna sleep extra.
She crossed herself and muttered her silent prayers before fetching for her mirror inside her bag, making sure that no signs of stress were streaking her face. Her chestnut hair was long and wavy that reached just a few inches above her slender hips. A silver cross necklace clung snuggly on her neck. As somewhat a perfectionist herself, tiny eyebags underneath her chocolate eyes would be embarrassing in front of her students.
She stood from the pew, lifting her bag filled with the exam papers for her students. Today was the finals and everybody was excited for summer vacation. She had prayed that night that the Lord would give her the strength to deliver the marks they deserved, and hoped that her students would just be happy and contented with it. If the reactions would not be something that she'd expect, she would just face them with a smile. That would be enough. As if they'd care about their grades anyway. This isn't just your average school.
As she walked the isle toward the chapel entrance, a silhouette of a tall person blocked the light from outside and such incredible height alone made it easy for Theresa to identify who it was.
"Miss Bernstein, I knew you would be here." Sir Harold Lockser said in such a sweet yet masculine voice that Theresa have always admired along with his exotic last name. "You're not that hard to find."
"Something wrong, sir?" Theresa asked and she couldn't help but notice Harold's rare sapphire blue eyes gazing at her as if he was eager for something from her. Despite that though, it made her blush.
"Nothing," Harold said as he gestured his opened hand to her bag of papers. In his finger, she saw that marvelous golden ring with a sapphire gemstone embedded that glimmered impeccably well like his bluish eyes. For a moment, she was allured by the ring before noticing that Harold was offering to help her. She shook her head and smiled at him then nodded her thanks and she handed it to him. "Just making sure that you're ready for later."
"Ready for later?" Theresa narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Why, the finals of course." he said. "The time of judgment."
That was deep and . . . weird. Theresa thought. There was something always archaic about Sir Harold ever since he stepped foot in this school a few months ago. She had never seen such a guy that was so handsome and charming as if he was breathe to life from her favorite fairy tales. He was twenty five, same as her or at least that was what his school records told. Young, fair skinned, blonde hair, yet filled with such experience and skill and knowledge about anything in this world. He would casually talk about the universe and stuff as if he was the one who made it all. There was just this charm in him that Theresa and most students couldn't resist. He had the talent of making everyone kneel—both figuratively and literally. Even as a devout Christian, she would listen to his philosophy about the world at large and the grand scheme of things. Such was the talent of Sir Harold. He knew so much about almost anything yet his past was shrouded with mystery though and all they knew was that he came from abroad and was searching for 'the house of the gifted' for him to share his knowledge and wisdom. There was a time when Theresa asked about his family and she was pretty certain that he had talked about it and yet, she must've forgotten. She tried so hard to remember but something was seemingly in her brain that was blocking such thought. In the end, she decided to shrug that thought because it would only make her head hurt. Maybe Theresa could ask him to talk about it over a coffee session when school is finally over. He is just so . . . perfect.
"Something the matter?" Harold asked.
"Huh? What?" Theresa snapped out of her reverie. She turned to her colleague. "Uhm, nothing. I-what-where were we again?"
"Good morning, Miss Resa!" a somewhat weary greeting came from nearby. The two teachers turned and saw Popoy Makisig on his way to them, atop his bike. He braked as few feet from them. "Naku po, I hope I'm not late."
"Just in time, Popoy." Theresa said after looking at her watch. "You look exhausted, child. Don't tell me you biked all your way to school. You know it's dangerous."
"Pasensya na po. Had to beat traffic." Sorry. Popoy said rubbing sweat from his forehead with his fingers. He was sixteen-year old Filipino student, short but muscular with short, dark hair. Being half-Filipino herself, Theresa had always been fond of the kid especially his determination and resourcefulness. To think that his bike was actually made from scrap and bamboo.
Theresa sighed. "I told you that you can always get a dorm room here. I can always talk to the admin for some arrangement."
"Yeah but . . ." Popoy scratched his head and grinned. "You know . . . I have to watch over my grandma. She's sick."
Theresa felt that heaviness in her chest again when Popoy once told her about his situation after consulting him about his excessive absences in school. "You're a good kid, Popoy. I'll always pray for you and your family."
"Salamat po, miss." Thank you, miss. Popoy said as all of those weariness were slowly being washed away from his face. "I will do my best."
"You're always special, Popoy." Harold said. "You will be part of – woops?"
A hand grabbed Sir Harold's free hand. Emily Greene, another student and one of Sir Harold's avid fan—and Miss Theresa's greatest basher, had joined them. "Sir Harold, I read that book you told me about. It was so mindblowing!"
Sir Harold turned to her with a blank look on his face. This somewhat angered Emily. The young girl's sharp dark blue eyes stared at Theresa like daggers. She had always been smug to Theresa for reasons unknown but one of them was because the girl had been crushing at Sir Harold and the teacher pair had been popular in the campus that students were shipping them always. Emily was a campus crush herself, an American with dazzling golden hair that framed her unblemished face, perky womanly breasts on her slender yet curvy body brought from modeling trainings. All the boys were into her and who wouldn't? Theresa could only feel pity about that thing that Emily do not befitting for a girl her age. Theresa had always wondered how she was able to carry such brand on her life.
"Really? That's great, Emily." Sir Harold said at last. "So, what do you think about it?"
Emily stared at Theresa one last time before rolling her eyes and turning to Sir Harold with a smirk. "I'll tell you, Sir Harry. But let's do it on our way to our classroom." She turned to Popoy. "Hey, poor boy. Take your Miss Tits-I mean, Theresa's bags. I need some alone time with Sir Harry."
"Hoy!" Popoy said. "How dare you talk like that to her."
"Emily, that's not . . ." Sir Harry said. As he faced Emily, the girl's fuming demeanor slowly changed like a child pacified from her tantrums.
Emily simply rolled her eyes and turned her back against them. Theresa studied Harold, trying to figure out how he did that. How he easily took control. She should have such skill as a teacher.
"No, it's okay." Theresa said calmly. "That's not how you should talk to Popoy, Emily. You don't know what he's going through."
Emily shrugged. "Whatever." She pulled Sir Harry by the hand and dragged him off like he was her boyfriend. "Let's go, Sir Harry. Later losers!"
"Well," Harold said, facing Theresa and handed her bag to Popoy. "This will be over soon anyway."
"Over?" Theresa mumbled but only watched her colleague following one of her students along the corridors. The students were staring at them, the girls at Sir Harold and the boys at Emily.
"Pokpok." Popoy said under gritted teeth.
Theresa's eyes widened. "Shh! Don't say that, Popoy."
"But that's true, Miss Resa." Popoy said. "And I can't handle what she told you."
Theresa smiled. "Just let her be, Popoy. She will soon realize her mistakes. What's important is that we don't become the things that we hate. Let's just pray harder that she'll turn well."
Popoy chained his bike on the bike parking railing and sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"So, let's be on our way then, exams about to start." The two headed their way to the classroom. Theresa's voice became slightly grim. "I hope you've studied hard, Popoy."
He gulped and almost fell from his bike. "Naku, don't scare me like that, Miss."
Theresa chuckled. "Just kidding. Of course you'll pass. I believe in you."
Popoy chuckled nervously but thanked her. Then they went on and talked about how they were this morning. Popoy would talk about his work in the farms and his new creations from the machine shop and it always amazed her. While engaging in such heartwarming conversations though, Theresa couldn't help but reflect on what Popoy told Emily and how the girl could just handle that with ease. Pokpok . . . slut. That's what he called her. Almost everyone did. And it seems she was fine by that.
The bell rang and students and teachers alike streamed back into their classrooms. The finals was about to start. Theresa and Popoy evaded students as they scurried toward their rooms. The two turned to the corridor that led to their own classroom at the end, they spotted Creebo Higurashi, Japanese with his chubby chin sagging down his chest. Theresa could spot his eyes weeping behind his large glasses. The Jap was one of her brightest student, ace at every test and exams and probably because he was Asian. Not that Theresa was stereotyping but the kid was focused more on his studies than the rest. However, there was no control over his eating habits and that, along with his baloonish built, made him the target of bullies like Jack Morgan.
So Jack and his gang were on him again. Jack was a ginger boy with freckles on his creamy, arrogant face and a toned built befitting for someone with military training. And he took that to his advantage and had always been a troublemaker and she wasn't sure if it was because of his Texas redneck blood or the fact that his late father was a high ranking military official, just like her father who fought in the fourth World War which divided the Eastern and Western forces of the world, and had every reason to hate the Japanese. But the war was like six years ago and the poor Japanese boy didn't deserve this.
"Come on, Nip," Jack said, pushing at Creebo who simply sulked. His gang snickered around them while others took videos. The Texas boy put something in his pocket. "Not so tough, now, eh? Come on, I thought you guys know karate?"
Theresa sighed and was about to call their attention when Leon Kingsley marched into the group. His father was also in the military, the Allied British Regiment. He was a tall, muscular, and handsome boy with short dark hair and sparking blue eyes that made him the desire of every young girls in his class-even those in the seniors department. "Hey prick, why don't you pick somebody your on size, huh?"
"Leon, stop." His girlfriend, Aerenne Eunhae meekly trailed behind him, hand clasped against her chest and with round eyes brimming with worry. Aerenne is a shy and timid Korean girl with long dark hair that framed a snowy face almost like the one you would see on ghost films. And somehow, her perpetual quietness and her friendly bearing made her loved by everyone in class and that was also the reason why she was somehow, voted for class president despite that innate introversion that she have.
"You got a problem, dude?" Jack said, snickering. His gang sneered behind him.
"Why? You want a piece of me?" Leon replied as he inched forward but Aerenne wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him back. "Can't even bloody land a punch."
Jack was about to lunged at him when Theresa chimed in. "Alright boys, that's enough. Get back into your rooms. You too, Creebo."
Weeping, Creebo scurried back into the classroom while Jack and his gang laughed.
"Jack, give it back." Theresa said, with her palm open.
For a moment, Jack turned to Theresa with a denying and confused look then grumbled as he slapped Creebo's purse unto her hand. Then he stared at Leon, putting two fingers over his glaring wide eyes and then pointing it at the Brit. He glanced at Aerenne then back at Leon then mouthed 'Traitor'. Then he grinned like a shark and Leon simply smiled wryly as he watched Jack and his gang entered the room.
"Alright, that's settled." Theresa said as she entered the room. Leon, Aerenne, and Popoy followed and took their seats. The others students skittered back into their respective seats. Creebo sat quietly on his chair, holding his purse and gasped in surprise when Jack pounded his armrest. Jack and his gang chuckled and moved to their chairs. Theresa took a good look at each one of them, trying to see whether there was even a glimmer of hope or eagerness from them to take their final exams before moving on to senior high school. There were some though. Like Bryan Porter and his girlfriend Jane Wills. Both American. Bryan was one of the school's basketball team along with Leon. Bryan had curly, russet hair and an athletic build suited for the game. Jane had dark long hair and the gentle eyes and composure that made Bryan, a once lackey of Jack, to be interested in sports and academics. The pair walked from one corner of the room to their seats with Jane reciting some terms from the textbook she was holding while Bryan stared at her with a hypnotized face and Theresa wasn't sure if he was paying attention to what Jane was saying.
Then at the rear end of the room, almost near the wall and a few feet away from the row before them, two seats stood flanking the room. Of course, nobody dared, not even Jack's gang, go near these two seats as they were owned by two of the most fearsome students of the class-no, the entire campus.
On the left, near the backdoor, sat a hulking figure of an African-American student with both feet on the chair's armrest, his muscular crossed arms leaning against the wall and the back of his head leaning against them. He had a dark crew cut that crowned a dense, glaring face. Jethro Crawford was already eighteen and still, he looked more adult than Theresa.
As soon as he noticed that the students were going back to their seats, Jethro slowly opened his eyes, eyes of a killer, as he scanned every corner of the room like a predator looking for his prey. Though he had never been involved in any fights in school for being solitary, Theresa knew he had the reputation especially that he had already killed somebody. She spotted Jethro's eyes snapped open and locked toward the other boy on the opposite side of the rear end, near the window, sitting quietly on his chair, and staring blankly at whatever scenery there was outside the window.
Santino Castilloni, Italian, had his elbow resting on the armrest and his chin resting on his palm as he kept his cold, listless eyes on the view beyond the confines of the classroom. He was slender with slicked back, jetblack hair and fair skin. During class, he was always the first to be inside the classroom and Theresa was surprised when she tried to race with him to see how he did it. And it was weirder when even when she unlocked the door that time, Santino was already there. Did he picklocked? Passed by the windows? He was a prodigy of his own, able to quickly grasp complex things like mathematics and art just by spending a few minutes watching them. His grades were topnotched. Too bad, he was not into progress or anything. He was, what does he want anyway? He was always like this and this enigma was one of the reason why nobody dares to come near him as well. Because of course, his mysterious emergence inside the classroom was not the reason why the students were terrified. It was because of what he did once school was over.
Every night or so, reports would spread about local gang's hideout sprawling with bodies and blood spraying all over the place, mutilated but left alive. While Jethro had killed a man once and probably out of self-defense, Santino singlehandedly had made any deemed adversary suffer for the rest of their lives. Others had even killed themselves out of misery and searing pain of losing a limb or two, or an eye or two. Of course, being the son of a mafia boss, the police would just slip these gory reports under the rug. Such a waste. If he had spent his God-given talents on more useful things like those dedicated to the progress of the nation, who knows what the world would've achieved?
See, this is not your average school. This is a school that housed either the elites or the lowest of the low, the extremely gifted or the delinquents and what nots. But of course, Theresa never stopped praying for them, for all of her students. Theresa had always wondered why, being bright and full of talents herself, she had landed in this school out of many other prestigious ones. She had no choice though, it was what her father wanted. Or maybe she was sent here by God for a reason. Even sir Harold would told her that she was meant to guide the future generations. That everything was planned, everything was destined.
After their daily morning routine of prayers and greetings, Theresa pulled the exam papers and placed them on the table. She noticed that Emily hadn't returned after her chats with Sir Harold. However, it was already time for the exams. She faced her students one last time and took a deep breath.
"You are now on the last chapter of your junior years and soon, you will be living with the career of your choice." Theresa said while watching their expressions carefully. The rest looked uninterested but at least some looked keen to listen.
"I hope that this academic year had made you learn a lot of things," Theresa continued. "Not only in scholarly works but in mind, body and spirit. With that, let us begin our final ex—?"
"AHHH!"
Shocks echoed inside the walls as they turned and saw Emily bursting into the room and landing into a heap on the floor beneath Theresa's feet. The girl moaned and sobbed, visibly in pain as she uttered words that Theresa couldn't discern. She bent down to Emily's aid, cradling her head on her lap, trying to calm her down. The girl looked pale, her teary eyes dilated as if she had seen something horrifying. Then more screams startled Theresa.
"What?" Theresa gasped and swiveled to the door and saw Sir Harold standing by the door with a bright smile on his handsome face.
"It's time." he simply said and before Theresa could react, Harold lifted a glowing disk that quickly fired blinding golden light into the entire room.
Theresa winced as she lifted her arms to cover her eyes. She tried to peek from the thin gaps of her arms and along with that light, spawned an array of gigantic purplish, tentacle looking appendages that darted toward the students—and impaling their bodies with it, spraying blood across Theresa's horrified face.
"AHHHHHH!" Everybody screamed and scrambled to escape the room. He ... he . . . Theresa's mind screamed along with others. She was stuck in her current position with Emily on her lap when she stared at the corpse of one of her students lying on a pool of blood with his head crushed like a watermelon.
More of the purple tentacles stretched out from the disk on Harold's palm and skewered and impaled her students Wails of pain and agony echoed in the room. Blood as red as rubies smeared the room, painted its walls and flooded the floor. A beating heart spun in front and sprayed the warm fluid on Theresa's uniform before it squished on the floor. Severed limbs and organs flew and whirled themselves everywhere. Please! Stop! Oh God!
Theresa had no idea what to do. She was still down on the floor amidst this bloody chaos, frozen with fear, having no idea what was going on except that a gruesome scenery was unfolding right in front of her eyes.
Her eyes locked on Harold who waved the disk on his hand. Another golden light glowed in front of the room. Light sparkling like the sun, sending blinding rays in the room. Theresa didn't even blink. A small ball of light suspended itself in midair and in a few seconds, expanded and formed a huge ring a few feet bigger than her. The center was dark and frightening.
A cloud of pungent purple smoke, smelling like dead rat and rotten fish dispersed itself in the room. And before Theresa could react, her body felt numb. Her eyes and head became heavy and she felt some hand was stopping her heart from pumping blood. She collapsed on the blood riddled floor, face first with Emily beside her. A swirling mass of colors whirled in her vision. Something sticky and hot wrapped around her arms and pulled her straight into the glowing light that for her looked like a portal. Screams gradually disappeared and the clattering sound of hands and heads falling and bouncing on the floor ceased. Something warm, sticky, and slimy slithered and coiled around her leg and dragged her across the floor, toward the glowing ring. Her vision began to fade. Oh God, not like this.
And her thoughts and body slipped into the darkness.