Suddenly, Harry paused. A voice called out to him—it was Poure. Reluctantly, Harry stood and turned back, his face etched with disappointment. "We'll find him next time," he muttered, leading the group away.
It wasn't until the footsteps faded that Dick crawled out from the hollow, gasping for air. His once-clean uniform was shredded and stained. His face was swollen, his body riddled with welts and scratches. Blood oozed from spots where he had scratched too hard. The venom coursing through his veins made his head pound violently.
He stumbled forward, his legs heavy as lead. Each step felt like wading through thick mud. Finally, his body gave out, and he collapsed onto the sunlit ground. His limbs twitched, his chest heaving as though he were suffocating. In desperation, he tore off his shirt and trousers, revealing the full extent of the infestation. The ants covered him entirely, even crawling to his groin and scrotum.
Dick let out a guttural roar before falling still.
---
Meanwhile, in an empty classroom, Mikey sat near the window, his expression brooding. When Harry and Poure entered, he turned to face them.
"I already know what happened," Mikey snapped, his voice cold with disappointment. "You couldn't handle one simple task—catching a loser like Dick. How do you expect me to present you to Dr. Bin? He doesn't deal with failures."
Harry lowered his head. "Sorry, Mikey. There'll be another time."
"Another time?" Mikey hissed. "Time waits for no one, Harry."
In his mind, Mikey plotted his next move. Dick was supposed to be delivered to Dr. Bin as a second blood donor—fuel for the doctor's blood-machine. Mikey had made promises, and delays would only put him in Bin's bad graces.
The clock was ticking.
---
Later, Alex found Dick limping near the school gates. He recoiled at Dick's swollen face and disheveled state.
"What happened to you out there?" Alex asked, horrified.
Dick looked at him with hollow eyes. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he whispered, before collapsing into unconsciousness.
---
Harry couldn't suppress the burning question that had been gnawing at him for days. The disappearance of Moore had become a constant source of dread, a looming shadow that clouded their every thought. It weighed on their minds, making it impossible to focus on anything else. There was something about the entire situation that felt wrong—something that went far beyond the usual disappearances.
Standing before Mikey, with Poure silently observing from the side, Harry felt the weight of the silence in the room. It was as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for the conversation to take a dark turn. Harry couldn't ignore the uneasy tension that had settled over them all.
"Where is Moore?" Harry asked, his voice low but sharp, slicing through the thick silence that hung in the air. His question seemed to hang there, echoing off the walls.
Mikey's body stiffened visibly at the mention of the name. A flicker of something—fear, guilt, or perhaps something darker—crossed his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a cold, calculating composure. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, thick with a menacing energy that made it difficult for Harry to breathe.
"I kept him," Mikey finally replied, his words slow and deliberate, each one heavy with meaning. His tone was unsettling, flat, as if he were stating a simple fact rather than acknowledging the horror of his actions.
Harry's heart skipped a beat. The implications of those three words sent a chill down his spine. He wanted to push further, to demand answers, to understand the twisted logic behind Mikey's actions. But the weight of Mikey's presence, the way his eyes darkened with something close to menace, made Harry hesitate. The man in front of him was not someone to be trifled with.
Poure, ever the cautious observer, caught Harry's eye and gave him a subtle shake of the head. It was a warning, an unspoken message: now was not the time. Harry clenched his fists in frustration, but the gravity of the moment kept him from speaking further. Mikey's ominous silence was the final word in their exchange.
---
Dick Awakens in the Hospital
Dick's eyes fluttered open to the harsh, sterile glare of hospital lights above him. He could hear the steady beep of a heart monitor, the soft hum of machines working tirelessly to keep him alive. His body felt sore, every muscle aching as if he had been through a brutal fight, but he was still alive—against all odds.
As his blurred vision slowly cleared, two familiar figures came into focus: his father, Alex, standing rigidly by his side, his face drawn with worry, and Ms. Perry, the school principal, her features tense as though she were trying to maintain control over a situation that had spiraled out of her hands.
"What… what am I doing here?" Dick's voice was weak, barely more than a hoarse whisper as he struggled to sit up. His hand trembled as he reached for the side of the bed, testing his strength.
Ms. Perry stepped forward briskly, her expression professional yet strained. "Mr. Alex, let him recover first," she said, her tone clipped but firm. "I'm here because he's my student. His welfare is my priority."
Alex opened his mouth, ready to argue, but he closed it again, his concern for his son evident but tempered by the principal's unwavering authority. "I understand that, Ms. Perry, but—"
The principal's stern gaze met his, cutting him off. "You'll have all the time in the world to discuss this when you're home, Mr. Alex. Right now, I want him discharged as soon as possible." Her voice brooked no disagreement, and her tone left no room for further debate.
In recent days, Ms. Perry had become a focal point, overwhelmed by the bizarre and increasingly deadly events that had plagued the school. She had taken it upon herself to try and regain control, but even her strength and resolve were beginning to fray under the mounting pressure.
But the tension in the room shattered suddenly.
A picture frame hanging on the wall crashed to the floor, shattering the uneasy stillness. Before anyone could react, the glass of water on the bedside table began to tremble, vibrating violently as if moved by an unseen force. The glass teetered dangerously at the edge of the table before it tipped over, spilling its contents and shattering on the floor.
Dick blinked, his head spinning as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening. Was it just his imagination? Was he still disoriented from whatever had happened to him? No, this was real—something unnatural was occurring.
The air in the room shifted, a sudden coldness creeping in, sending a chill through Dick's spine. A gust of wind, strong and uninvited, swept through the room, slamming the curtains against the walls. Papers and other objects were flung into the air, tumbling toward the ground in chaotic disarray.
"Close the window!" Alex shouted, his voice filled with urgency as he rushed to stop the storm.
But Alex's frantic efforts to close the window were in vain. A ghostly hand materialized from the swirling wind, gripping his wrist with an icy coldness. Before he could pull back, the unseen force flung him violently across the room. He slammed into the wall with a sickening thud and crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain.
Ms. Perry screamed in terror as she spun toward the door, her body instinctively moving toward the safety outside. But she never made it. An invisible force wrapped around her legs, dragging her across the floor as she clawed helplessly at the overturned table. Her voice echoed in desperate panic.
"Somebody, save me!" she screamed, her voice cracking as the wind continued its merciless assault.
Without thinking, Dick sprang to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his body. His instincts took over, and he lunged toward Ms. Perry, grabbing her arms with a strength that surprised even him. He pulled with everything he had, his grip impossibly strong, and slowly, inch by inch, he dragged her back into the room.
With a final, desperate pull, Dick yanked Ms. Perry away from the force's grasp. The moment the window slammed shut, the wind died down instantly, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.
Ms. Perry collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath, her face pale with shock. She looked up at Dick, her wide eyes filled with disbelief. She stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time—this boy who had defied all logic and saved her life when no one else could.
But the danger wasn't over.
A shadow loomed outside the window, and Dick's blood ran cold as he saw a massive stone—no, a boulder—hurtling toward the room with frightening speed. Every instinct told him to dive for cover, but another force inside him, a strange voice urging him to fight, took over.
"Hit it!" the voice commanded.