Chase followed the line of teens ahead of him mechanically, but his mind was elsewhere. Ever since his encounter with the beast, he'd felt subtle yet undeniable changes in himself. His body was stronger, his vision sharper. Just how strong he'd become, he wasn't sure, but he estimated he might be twice as powerful as he was before. He glanced around the vast white hall, then noticed someone watching him—Kellie, standing a few people back, her expression a mixture of concern and apprehension.
"Why is she looking at me like that? Same with the others," he murmured under his breath. It wasn't just Kellie giving him those looks; Belinda, Carter, Hampton, and Kayla all seemed to regard him with a peculiar caution. Chase shook off the thought, deciding there were more pressing matters to focus on. Only hours earlier, he'd been fighting a monstrous creature, and now he found himself here. The last thing he remembered was the sun glaring down on him as he closed his eyes, catching a glimpse of a boy his age just before everything faded to black. The boy had a weird facial structure with long ears that resembles the elves he reads about in fantasy. But he shifted that to that to the back of his head, it must have been the fatigue playing trick on him. Now, he was in this sterile, mysterious hall with no explanation.
A metallic clanging reverberated through the room, drawing everyone's attention to the wall ahead as it split apart, revealing a new pathway. Beyond it lay an open field, vast and unnaturally green under artificial lights. At the far end stood seven towering machines, each about six feet tall with small screens at the top, their shapes resembling giant, foreboding refrigerators.
"APPROACH THE TESTER AND PLACE YOUR HAND ON IT," a booming voice commanded from above, echoing through hidden speakers. Most of the teens moved forward, albeit hesitantly, their faces shadowed with uncertainty. But Chase held back, something in the air felt wrong—almost threatening. The more he watched, the more his instincts warned him to stay alert.
He slipped through the crowd, weaving around clusters of kids who looked equally uneasy, searching for a particular face. After a few minutes, he spotted him—the boy he'd seen before passing out. Chase grasped the boy's arm, pulling him aside. The boy's eyes went wide with surprise.
"Y-You survived..." the boy stammered, his face pale.
Chase nodded, confirming his suspicion. "You were the one who stopped my bleeding, weren't you?" he murmured.
The boy swallowed, then nodded. "But…how did you know?"
Chase gave him a small, grateful nod, his tone earnest but low. "You saved my life. I owe you one." Without giving the boy time to respond, he continued, "Stay here. Let the others go first. Something doesn't feel right about this place."
The boy's brows knit in confusion, but Chase's calm determination seemed to convince him. They both stayed back, observing as the crowd pushed forward, each teen edging closer to the looming machines. Chase's gaze flicked over the room, noting every detail: the pristine white ceiling with its cold fluorescent lights, the dense grass underfoot that felt odd in such an unnatural setting. But his focus kept returning to the machines, and a deep, uneasy weight settled in his stomach.
Some of the kids seemed excited as they neared the machines, anticipation shining in their eyes. But Chase remained tense, watching and waiting. Among the crowd, he spotted Kellie, Belinda, Carter, Hampton, and Kayla moving forward with the rest. He considered calling out to them, warning them of his suspicions, but a bitter feeling held him back. They had all, in one way or another, turned their backs on him before. He knew he could only rely on himself.
As the first of the teens reached the machines, the ground trembled faintly, a low rumble like the belly of some sleeping beast. Chase's breath caught as he saw a ghastly, pale hand shoot up from the earth, wrapping itself around a boy's ankle. The boy screamed, his voice shrill with terror, as he struggled against the icy grip.
"Help me! Somebody, please!" His cries echoed off the walls, bouncing through the crowd like a dark omen.
A collective gasp rose, and panic erupted. The kids froze, horrified, unable to process what they were seeing. But before they could react, another girl was seized, her body dragged down as her desperate scream was cut short.
A few seconds passed, and then chaos consumed the hall. Kids pushed and scrambled over each other, driven by fear as more hands emerged, dragging down anyone too slow to escape. Chase stood still, watching the pandemonium unfold with a chilling calm. This is exactly what he had feared—and now his suspicions were confirmed.
Through the crowd, he saw Kellie and her friends trying to make sense of the chaos, their expressions torn between terror and disbelief. "STOP!" Kellie and Belinda shouted simultaneously, their voices cutting through the din.
But Carter, fueled by sheer panic, snapped at them. "Are you crazy? You want to stand here in the middle of this? I'm not going to die with you!" He turned and sprinted away, his steps frantic, as though death itself were at his heels.
Hampton and Kayla hesitated, their faces pale as they weighed their options, glancing between their friends and the shrinking safety of the room's perimeter. Every instinct told them to flee, but something in Kellie's determined expression gave them pause.
Chase continued to watch silently from the back, feeling detached from their plight. Their cries of fear and confusion barely registered with him. He had endured three years of isolation, ostracized by these very people. He'd seen how shallow their friendships could be, how quickly they abandoned him when he needed them most. In that moment, he felt no urgency to call them back or warn them.
In the pandemonium, Chase's analytical mind took over, noting the patterns of the spectral hands' appearances and the odd precision with which they seized their victims. They didn't seem indiscriminate; rather, they moved with an eerie purpose, emerging in a way that corralled the teens toward the machines, almost herding them into a trap.
Yet, even as he observed, something inside him felt a growing pang