"Sayers, tell me you have an idea! Please! I'll do anything, I don't care, tell me!" I pleaded, hearing the heavy thudding of shoes behind us, the floor shaking more and more, each vibration stronger than the last.
"SAYERS!" I begged louder, tears streaming down my cheeks. My body shook violently, getting stronger the closer Craig got to us, yet I forced myself to stand. I ignored the searing pain in my side, the stinging in my shoulder, and the aching of my legs. I needed him to answer.
"Get to the other stairwell!" Sayers ordered, his eyes blazing orange once more. Without a second of hesitation, I sprinted down the hallway, and a loud crash followed closely behind me.
I heaved heavily, each step taking more out of me, but I didn't stop. "I wish you were here, Dad. I'd give anything to see you right now," I muttered, my eyes clouded in tears as I gritted my teeth and kept running, ignoring the pain spreading through my body.
"QUIT BITCHING AND RUN DAMMIT!" Sayers commanded, snapping me out of my thoughts. Loud gunshots sounded from behind me, but no bullets came in my direction, he found a different target. "Keep running, use this chance!"
Screams echoed loudly, reminding me of my classroom, I winced but kept going. "Either Craig or the person who orchestrated this shitshow will have the remote to the bombs, all you have to do is take him out!" Sayers explained in a hurry, guiding me through the blood-soaked halls.
The heavy scent of iron filled my lungs as I breathed heavily, sweat pouring down my face and mixing with the dried blood, creating a waterfall of pink. My ankle collapsed under me, sending me sprawling across the floor. The same one I sprained and heard the cracking from.
"Don't you dare say you can't run! Get the fuck up now!" Sayers ordered, ignoring the tears pouring out of my eyes. I didn't say anything, I couldn't, I was trying not to scream at the pain.
I looked at him, not saying a word, but my mouth was wide open. A scream started to escape my lips, but I bit down hard on my tongue, stopping me from letting it out. "Just make it either upstairs or back to the offices Oliver, there should be first-aid supplies somewhere!"
"I-I'm trying," I managed to force out, a pause between each word. Barely holding it together, I stood back up and ran with a limp, almost dragging my leg behind me as I neared the staircase that led upstairs.
My knees collapsed under me, making me crash into the tile once more. My chin bounced off, causing blood to spew out of my mouth as I lay still. "GET THE FUCK UP! SOMEONE'S NEARBY!" Sayers shouted, grabbing my shirt with his claws.
I looked up, and for a brief second, I could see his long, wild, jet-black hair flowing smoothly, sailing with an invisible wind. "DO YOU WANT TO DIE OR NOT?! GET UP!"
My arm forced me off the ground, my hard planted hard on the ground, and I shook viciously, barely keeping myself on a knee. "Please, anyone, anything! I don't care, just let me do this! I'll give anything, so let me talk to my dad one last time!" I begged, finally lifting myself off the ground.
"If you're doing this for your dad, then drag yourself for fucks sake! Just make it dammit!" Sayers screamed, his eyes lighting ablaze as the gunshots behind us died down. "Your window is closing, Oliver!"
With a heavy limp, I carried my body forward, blood leaking out of my shirt. One step at a time, I made it upstairs by the skin of my teeth, Craig's footsteps shaking the hallway. "He won't come up, I'm pretty sure they're dividing the floors by territory. Remember the radio call between whoever it was and Claudia?" Sayers reminded me, making a good point as I dragged my body forward.
I crashed down, my head bouncing off the floor as I made it to a first-aid kit. I barely lifted my hand, grabbing a roll of gauze as Sayers instructed me step-by-step on how to address my cuts.
With a heavy hand, I managed to lock the door to the classroom and lay down. There wasn't any blood in the room, even though the teacher had class today. "That's odd," Sayers commented, walking around the room as I propped myself up, finally adjusting to the pain coursing through my bones.
"Oliver, you said the teacher had class today, right?" Sayers asked, his eyes glancing around the room, seemingly searching for something. I nodded, my head slamming into the wall when I stopped, and a heavy breath escaped from my lungs.
"No blood, but the desks are all over the place. Almost like this was staged," He mumbled, his voice dark as his eyes lowered toward the ground, giving me another eye-full of his black hair.
"Oliver, you need to get up and see this," Sayers ordered, he wasn't asking, his tone was serious, almost like he just found a body. I forced myself up and stood next to him, my eyes wide open as I stared down.
His desk drawer was chalked full of receipts from a store, a gun store. Thousands of dollars worth of ammo were purchased, along with half a dozen bulletproof vests, and finally, a bulk order of ten M16 Carbine's.
I looked at Sayers, my eyes wide, while he was blazing. His eyes lit a bright orange, not even close to a volcano, it was as if they were lava itself. A choking sensation wrapped around my throat, but kept enough that I could breathe, almost as if he noticed his anger suffocated me before.
"Two shooters dead, while there's around eight extra guns, do you realize what this means?" He asked, his voice sharp enough to cut the air in half.
"There's not thirteen shooters?" I guessed, clutching my head as a pain seared through it.
"Yes, but, he helped organize this," Sayers said, walking away from the desk drawer and opening another. I stood still, my eyes wide open in shock, before finally, I fell over, and my vision faded to black.
I awoke with a start, staring into Sayers's eyes as he hovered over me. Before I could ask, he cut my sentence off, "It's been thirty minutes."
I opened my mouth to speak, but the doorknob rattling immediately stopped me. I glanced backward, my head no longer hurting, and crawled behind the desk. Sayers whipped around, his hair floating above his eyes, before squinting toward the door.
"Oliver, stay hidden. Something is...Wrong, very wrong," He muttered, leaving out any mention of bloodlust as his eyes got higher off the floor. A loud bang came from the door, then another, and finally another.
The door flew off its hinges, knocking over desk after desk as it slammed against the ground. "That was an awful lot of blood for such a clean classroom," A feminine voice said loudly like she was trying to announce her presence, but I knew the voice, I had heard it dozens of times.
"Wow, gauze too? You had quite a party, didn't you? A scared little mouse, running away from the cats?" Her repeated questions threw me off guard, I was cupping my mouth hard, keeping myself from making a sound as her footsteps echoed around the room. I recognized the voice, but from where?
The last bell rang, signaling the end of the day, it was now One-Thirty, almost seven hours since school, started. "Shame, you'd normally be allowed to go home about now, little mouse, right?" She asked again, I shook again, a cold chill creeping up my spine the longer she spoke.
"I wonder, were you the one who called the police and forced us to activate the hidden trump card so early? You caused a real problem, you know? Speeding up our whole extermination project, does that make you happy, little mouse?" Finally, I recognized the voice, she was in my first period, but her name, what was it?
"Oliver!" Sayers screamed, his voice echoing through the room, almost shattering my eardrums. Not even a second later, a sound more terrifying echoed, a single click.
Hour 7- To be continued