Booming around his skull, the school gong rouses Noe from his slumber. Back aching, poking, and bruised, he rises from the thin mattress he lies on.
Alone, the metallic bunk bed blaringly creaks as he swings his legs over and stands, shoes still on but shirt and blazer freshly changed by someone unknown.
There are no windows in sight. Light peeping through the door cracks hankers at him. The encroaching, narrow four corners of the room push him towards the door. Lethargic, he hauls it open.
A flurry of activity rushes past him - boys, from twelve to possibly twenty-one - dressed in identical black and red uniform hurriedly walk in the same direction. Leaning forward, Noe sees open double doors at the end of the corridor.
Joining the crashing wave of bodies, everyone separates to give him room. As he walks, whispers emerge around him, breaking the monotonous tap tap tapping of everyone's heels.
"Who is he?"
"Heard he burnt down a school."
"Didn't he kill, like, four people?"
"I thought this school was just for small-time delinquents. Shouldn't he be in juvie?"
"Juvie would be better than this hell-hole."
"Stay away from him. We might be bad but he's a devil."
"Silence!" Sir Renner thunders as he garishly walks down the hall, hips first and familiarised whip behind his belt swooshing and swaying.
On arrival at the doors, Noe is cast into a canteen.
Swiftly collecting his lunch, he surveys the room; he does not want to make anyone uncomfortable by sitting with them. The black, indoor benches are placed just as neatly as desks in a classroom. Stark blue lighting seems to be the school's mode.
However, instead of dull bricks, the walls are plastered white.
Gentle conversation ensuing all around erupts in his head and gives him a slight indication of what this place is; the cafeteria may be the only place people interact. He has been thrown away by society and deposited in a boarding school.
"Hey, new guy!" a lanky boy whose uniform swings in ribbons around his frame breaks the cold bubble Noe had been trapped in.
The boy, in stark contrast to the gloominess around him, beams a bright smile at Noe.
"Let's go," grabbing onto Noe's elbow, he propels them to a bench at the far corner of the cafeteria where two people are awaiting.
"You must be new," brown eyes surrounded by sleepless bags look at Noe.
Noe stares at him as he takes his seat in front of the cafeteria's wall. Brown eye's figure is outlined by the bright light of the room.
"I'm Lancaster," brown eyes says. "The one who carted you over here is Jinn."
Jinn smiles and waves at Noe, "Hiya."
"And that's Terry," Lancaster points at an ordinary-looking guy, Terry.
Craning to look around the cafeteria, Jinn asks, "Have you seen Bodhi?"
"We had Renner for fourth period. I think he might be back... in there," Terry speaks.
"Oh..." Jinn sighs as he pokes and moves around his food without eating it.
A solemn atmosphere worms into the conversation. For the next ten minutes, food is consumed without a word uttered.
"What if we just rebelled?" Jinn begins.
"We've talked about this before, Jinn," Terry counters.
"It's better than just sitting around while Bodhi is stuck in that place," a crinkle appears between Jin's eyebrows.
"If we do and fail, one of us could be killed in some 'laboratory accident'," Lancaster interjects.
"Not if everyone is involved."
"What do you mean?" Terry asks, his words saturated in mundanity.
"New kid," Lancaster calls.
Noe looks over at him.
"If you say a word about this, then," he stands and reveals his huge figure that towers supremely, "you'll have me to deal with." Sitting down, Lancaster manoeuvres his dominating form to fit beneath the comparatively minuscule height of the table.
"As I was saying," everyone huddles forward with Jinn at the centre. "Nobody but the tyrannical "teachers" in this prison want to be here. If we get everyone to agree on the plan, we can find a way to at least survive better."
A strange tickling attacks Noe's shoulder and he brushes it off.
"We're gonna be beaten up anyway. Why not be beaten up for a reason?"
Suddenly, Terry's face contorts in terror, a slithering emotion that bites to numb the senses.
Aimed at Noe, a frown etches itself across his face and he says, "There's somebody behind you."
Noe turns back but only sees the plastered wall standing at attention.
"Did Renner scare you too much? Stop making these jokes all the time, Terry," Jin chuckles.
"I'm serious. There's a man with decayed teeth and scraggly hair breathing down your neck," his gaze drills into Noe.
Noe looks back once more and is confronted by thin air. As he turns back, he catches a slight darkness beside him.
"Let's meet tomorrow at the Dec, 10PM," Jinn instructs as he sees a kitchen maid walking towards them.
Though she seems harmless, a sharp fork is gripped tightly between her fingers, a grin concealing her flawless apprehension.
Soon, dinner ends and silence resumes.
A meaningful glance is secretly passed between the four boys. Looking down, they separate and make their way to their dormitories.
Silently entering his room, under the blinking, orange lightbulb stamped on the ceiling, a well-built Korean man pumps push ups one after the other.
The power in his arms jets him up and down until he shoots off the ground to stand in front of Noe, abs rippling and distorting in Noe's eyes. Beads of sweat drop from his inky hair. The flashing light continues to mess with Noe's to make him think he saw a slight redness to the black stare spearing into his own.
"Will we have a problem?"
Noe continues to stare back at him. For five minutes, they remain like that. The Korean student oozes domination that falls flat on its face against Noe's peerless demeanor.
Finally, the door slams shut, their stalemate ends and they are locked up.
The Korean man, fazed at Noe's apathy, towels himself dry and jumps into the cold, woody, bottom bunk.
"Are you the one who carried me here?" Noe asks.
"No," the Korean man responds then lays his head upon his forearms. Unbekownst to Noe, he pulls out a paper from his pants, clutching it near his heart.
None of Noe's belongings have been transferred to his room.
An itch to draw rubs against his fingers but there is nothing he can use to sketch. He can only lie in bed, still, until he falls asleep.
In the infirmary, Mr. Henderson peals away the bandages wrapping around his hands. Shadows of his past drift across his face under the dim, candlelit light. He stares at his throbbing, red flesh.
Terry shifts to and fro, jostling Jinn above him at the dorms.
"Jinn," he utters after an hour of the same act.
"Sh," Jinn instructs, too tired to say much more.
"Jinn."
"Hm?" the cold permeates through his thin blanket and Jinn shivers.
"The dead are awakening."