"This is so f**ked! We can't go back to the cafeteria or the main hall," Isamu muttered under his breath, his chest heaving as they bolted through the dimly lit corridor. The groans of the undead echoed in the distance, closing in like a tidal wave of dread.
Sato's voice broke through the chaos, his figure suddenly materializing beside them, a crooked grin on his face. "Wow, looks like you got yourself into some deep sh*t this time, huh? Another person dying in your hands. What a streak, Isamu."
The words stung like barbed wire. Takumi glanced back, his face pale as the shadowy forms of the dead grew closer. "You have to leave me, Isamu," he said, his voice taut with pain. "I'm slowing you down—they're catching up. Just leave me Isamu."
"No f**king way!" Isamu snapped, his eyes darting around for an escape. "I'm not leaving you out here to die. Just keep quiet."
His mind raced, juggling fear, anger, and desperation. 'Then have both you and Sato f**king with me in my head, I don't think so.'
Isamu's gaze locked on the gymnasium far up ahead, its double doors gleaming faintly in the dim light. "Okay, listen," he said, his voice firm. "We're gonna split up for a few minutes. You keep moving toward the gym. I'll draw them off your trail."
Takumi hesitated, the weight of survival decisions evident in his trembling nod. Without another word, Isamu spun on his heel, his voice slicing through the air. "HEY!! Get over here, you pieces of sh*t!"
The undead lurched in his direction, drawn to the sound like moths to a flame. Isamu sprinted toward the overgrown garden, his heart pounding in his chest. The smell of damp earth and rot filled his nostrils as he reached into his bag, pulling out the last beaker.
'Okay, think smart. I need to trap them here—maybe even use this later to clear the way back to the main hall.'
Sato reappeared, jogging effortlessly alongside him. "How about smashing it against the fountain up ahead? You know, the one I drank at of and got killed for it," he suggested, his tone almost playful. "The noise will bring them all in, and you can sneak out using the same door we came through in last time."
Isamu didn't bother responding, only gripping the beaker tighter as he approached the ornate fountain. He hurled it against the stone with all his strength. The glass shattered, and the resulting explosion echoed like a thunderclap. For a moment, the groans and shuffling stopped, replaced by an eerie silence. Isamu's breathing sounded deafening in the stillness.
Then came the rush—the dead surged toward the fountain like a wave, their movements jerky and relentless. Isamu bolted, weaving through the garden's twisted paths. Branches tore at his clothes as he slid across slick grass, narrowly dodging their clawing hands. He reached the garden gate and slammed it shut, the metal rattling violently as the undead tried to reach out through the gaps in the fence. He could once again hear his surrounding.
Leaning back and stretching his back, he caught his breath, wiping the sweat from his face. 'That's one door down. The one I came through is open, and so is the one near the cafeteria.'
Steeling himself, Isamu launched into a sprint back toward his starting point, his legs screaming in protest. He reached the doors, slamming each shut and latching them firmly. As the second door clicked into place, his body gave in. He collapsed to his knees, gasping for air as his vision swirled.
The hard concrete beneath him seemed to soften, shifting to polished wood. The faint hum of a crowd replaced the groans of the dead, and a whistle blew sharply. Isamu's head snapped up, his surroundings a gymnasium alive with cheers. His volleyball team stood in formation, their yellow and black uniforms gleaming under the lights.
"Isamu, get up. It's their serve," a voice called.
He rose instinctively, the ball soaring over the net. Takumi dove to the side, his receive perfect, sending the ball high and still. Isamu leapt, setting the ball to the high to the left side. Denji surged forward, his spike a blur past the triple block. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound like a wave crashing over him.
The vision dissolved, the roaring crowd morphing into guttural growls. The gym faded, replaced by the grim reality of the garden. Isamu staggered back, shaking his head. 'That was f**king trippy.'
Sato leaned casually against the gate, smirking. "Good times, huh? Sure, I was just a pinch server, but it felt good—winning, even just scoring a point. Is that what you are feeling right now Isamu? I mean don't get me wrong, locking up this many of them in one place is quite an accomplishment… but you're still a long way from getting out of this hell."
"F**k off," Isamu muttered, walking past him. His steps were heavy as he trudged toward the gymnasium, Sato's presence lingering like a shadow.
"What's the plan to get back to the fourth floor?" Sato pressed. "? You got all the food in your bag, they need to eat, get their strengths up for when you all get out of this school using that ladder of yours. That helicopter definitely ain't coming, it's been what, a week? Yeah, that's not happening."
Isamu sighed, exhaustion and frustration mingling. "What do you want, Sato? Why are you here, huh? To f**k with me 24/7? You think I care who's starving up there? We almost died. Someone opened that f**king window on the first floor—either other survivors or someone upstairs trying to kill us!"
Sato nodded thoughtfully, his tone eerily calm. "You're right. That window being open does seem familiar, doesn't it?"
Isamu stopped, his breath hitching. "The storage room window."
"Ding ding ding," Sato taunted. "I mean, you didn't open it and Takumi sure as hell didn't, Mr. Kazuki had no motive to do it. The only thing that makes sense now is, it's one of them up there. Not Yuna and Haruka of course, but the rest of them there. They opened the window to get the other two killed and also much recently, to get you or Takumi or even both of you killed."