The once-bright morning sky now loomed ominously over the high school courtyard. Screams echoed, bouncing off the surrounding buildings, spreading chaos and fear.
In the middle of the courtyard, a student suddenly dropped to his knees, his body trembling violently as if possessed by an unseen force.
"AAARRRGGHH!!" he shrieked, his voice piercing the air before he staggered to his feet, eyes wide with rage. His teeth clenched like a feral beast, and from his throat came a guttural growl—"Grrrhh... Haaahhh..."—a sound so chilling it made the blood of those nearby run cold.
"Hey, what are you doing? Stop messing around!" one of his friends stepped forward, trying to brush it off as a joke. But before he could react, the student lunged without warning, grabbing his collar with inhuman strength.
"Hey! Let me go!" his friend yelled, now panicked, struggling to break free from the vice-like grip.
The laughter that had once filled the courtyard slowly faded, replaced by puzzled and uneasy gazes. But before anyone could say a word, a girl suddenly screamed, clutching her head.
"No! Get away from me! Go away!!" she wailed, clawing at the air as if fighting off something unseen. Moments later, she collapsed to the ground, writhing and convulsing, her lips twisting into a terrifying, unnatural laugh.
The atmosphere shifted drastically. One by one, students began behaving strangely. Some howled, others pounded the ground with their fists, and some even attacked their own friends.
"What the hell is going on?!" the P.E. teacher shouted, trying to restore order. But the students no longer recognized anyone—not even him.
"Sir, help me! They've gone insane!" A boy sprinted toward the teacher, but his path was blocked by another student, who now stared at him with vacant, hollow eyes before tackling him to the ground.
"All of you! Stop this right now!" the teacher bellowed, his voice shaking. But it was useless. More and more students succumbed to this strange frenzy, as if a chain reaction had been set in motion.
CRASH! The sound of shattering glass echoed from the main building, followed by panicked screams. Students who had been watching from the windows now spilled into the courtyard, some sobbing in terror.
"They're coming! They're coming to the building!" a girl's voice rang out, triggering an even greater wave of hysteria.
Security guards and teachers rushed in, scrambling to contain the situation.
"Hold him down! Don't let him run!" one of the guards commanded, pointing at a thrashing student who seemed completely out of control.
Two school staff members grabbed his arms and legs, but his strength was monstrous—he flung them aside like rag dolls.
"What is this… possession?" a teacher whispered, his face drained of color. But before he could find an answer, a student let out a maniacal laugh and lunged at him.
"Hahahaha! You'll all become one of us!"
Amid the chaos, something felt deeply, terribly wrong. The air, once filled only with screams, now felt heavy, suffocating. A faint metallic scent tainted the atmosphere, mingling with the sound of slow, heavy footsteps approaching from the shadows of the building.
"Mass hysteria…" a teacher muttered, wiping the sweat from his face. "What the hell is happening here?"
At Citra Samudra High School, an elite private academy usually known for its order and prestige, the morning had unraveled into a waking nightmare. Something unprecedented was happening—students turning into mindless aggressors, rampaging without reason or restraint.
"Sir… they bit me!" A trembling student staggered toward the P.E. teacher, holding out his arm, where deep bite marks marred his skin.
"Everyone, step back! Don't go near them!" shouted Mr. Arif, the gym teacher, his voice strained and hoarse. But the warning did little to stop the chaos.
Minutes later, the wail of sirens echoed in the distance. Ambulances and police vehicles stormed the school grounds. Health workers rushed out, carrying stretchers and medical kits in their hands.
"How many casualties so far?" a police officer asked one of the teachers, who looked pale with fear.
"We… we haven't been able to count. Everything's in chaos!" the teacher replied, pointing to the courtyard where students were still rampaging, scratching and biting anyone who came too close.
"Doctor, they're hard to calm down!" one of the health workers shouted, struggling to hold back a student who screamed wildly, flailing his arms like a wild animal.
"Stay calm! Hold tight! Don't let him hurt himself or anyone else!"
But even the medical staff seemed overwhelmed. A doctor stepped back, panting, after a female student bit his arm. "They're like… possessed… this isn't regular medical care," he muttered, visibly terrified.
After two hours of mayhem, the headmaster made a decision. "Call Mr. Hadi. He's the religion teacher. Maybe he can help."
Mr. Hadi arrived shortly after, carrying a large bucket of water. His face was calm, despite the terrifying scene around him. He stood in the center of the courtyard, closed his eyes for a moment, then began to pray in a soft, steady voice.
"Mr. Hadi, do you really think this will work?" another teacher asked doubtfully.
Mr. Hadi didn't answer, merely nodding slightly. After finishing his prayer, he dipped his hands into the water and began sprinkling it toward the students who were still thrashing about.
A miracle occurred.
One by one, the students who had been screaming, writhing, or attacking suddenly collapsed. Their bodies slumped to the ground, as if all their strength had been drained away.
"My God, look at that! They… they fainted!" a teacher gasped in disbelief.
The medical staff quickly moved in, lifting the unconscious students onto stretchers. The courtyard, once filled with screams and chaos, began to fall silent.
"What is really going on here, Mr. Hadi?" the headmaster asked, his voice trembling.
Mr. Hadi sighed deeply. "I don't know for sure… but this is more than just an ordinary disturbance."
The mass possession at Citra Samudra High School halted all academic activities. That morning turned into a nightmare that spread like wildfire through the wind. Parents who heard the horrific news rushed to the school. Some were frantic, pulling their children out of the buildings while casting accusing glares at the school authorities.
"You have to take responsibility for this!" screamed one mother, her voice high-pitched. "My child could have been seriously hurt!"
Threats of lawsuits began to surface. The chaos that had started in the courtyard now spilled over into the schoolyard. Under immense pressure, the school administration took swift action.
"All students are allowed to go home. The school will be closed until further notice," the headmaster announced through the loudspeaker. "Further information will be provided via the official school website."
The announcement brought relief to most of the students. Despite just witnessing an event that could have been straight out of a horror film, the atmosphere outside the building shifted instantly. Students rushed out through the school gates, some even cheering as if they had forgotten the terror they had just experienced.
Among them, one student descended the stairs of the main building with a casual gait. The blue batik uniform fit neatly against his slender frame, exuding a calm sense of self-assurance. White headphones were plugged into his ears, drowning out the surrounding chaos.
In one hand, he held a carton of milk, occasionally sipping it with elegance. In the other, his phone lit up brightly, his fingers quickly typing out a message. His expression was calm, even somewhat indifferent to the turmoil around him.
While other students hurried toward the cars lined up in the parking lot, he seemed to enjoy his own time. His steps remained steady, as though the world around him was not important enough to disrupt his rhythm.
"Unexpected holiday. Not bad," he murmured quietly, a small smile curling on his lips before he returned his focus to his phone.
The boy stood at the edge of the field, his eyes observing the line of ambulances busy transporting injured students. The sound of sirens echoed in the air, mingling with the low murmur of panicked conversations from teachers and parents. Amid the chaos, he stood still, appearing calm.
His steady gaze scanned the crowd, but there was something in his eyes—a gleam that was difficult to decipher. It was as if he knew something others didn't.
His reverie was broken by a car horn from the left, followed by a familiar voice calling his name.
"Nong Navarro? Sorry for the wait. Come, I'll give you a ride," the voice said.
The boy turned slowly. From a few meters away, a middle-aged man stood beside a sleek black car, holding the door open for him. It was Om Bagas, his personal driver.
Navarro didn't say a word. He gave a small nod, his steps measured as he walked toward the car. With a smooth motion, he got in, not sparing another glance at the crowd outside.
The car door closed tightly, isolating Navarro from the commotion beyond. Yet, behind his calm expression, his mind was spinning like a silent storm. What had just happened at his school was no accident, and he knew it.
The journey in the car was silent. Navarro sat in the back seat, engrossed in his phone. The white headphones were still in his ears, while his fingers moved swiftly over the screen, typing something. Occasionally, he hummed quietly, a calm melody that barely broke through the hum of the car's engine.
However, something unsettled him. It felt as though a pair of eyes were watching him in silence. Slowly, Navarro lifted his gaze, his sharp eyes meeting the rearview mirror. He locked eyes with his driver, Uncle Bagas.
Uncle Bagas, caught in the act of sneaking a glance at his master, quickly turned his attention back to the road. His face showed a hint of nervousness as his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
Navarro sighed deeply, lowering the headphones from his ears before asking in a flat tone, "What is it, Uncle Bagas?"
Uncle Bagas stole a quick glance at the rearview mirror before answering uncertainly, "Sorry, sir. I just... wanted to know. Why was school suddenly dismissed early? There seemed to be quite a commotion when I came to pick you up."
Navarro paused, staring out of the window. Then, with a calm tone and little explanation, he said, "There was a disturbance. Some students seemed to be possessed and acted strangely. Many got injured."
Uncle Bagas's eyes widened, shocked by the response. "Possessed?" he murmured softly before adding, his voice tinged with concern, "Is young master Navarro... all right?"
Navarro glanced at him briefly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'm fine, Uncle," he answered briefly.
Uncle Bagas glanced at the rearview mirror again, hesitating before asking once more, "Young master, are you sure you're okay? I'm just worried..."
Navarro sighed quietly, his eyes still focused on the screen of his phone. "I'm fine, Uncle," he replied firmly but succinctly, as if to end the conversation.
Still, Uncle Bagas looked uneasy. Speaking cautiously, he said, "If that's the case... I think it might be best if I report this to the Master. After all—"
"No need," Navarro interrupted firmly, his eyes now locking directly with the driver's. "There's nothing to worry about."
Uncle Bagas fell silent, unsure of how to respond, but Navarro continued in a more relaxed, even somewhat indifferent tone. "Besides, 'he' probably already knows. This school is under his ownership, after all."
There was a brief pause before Navarro added with a tone of disdain, a small, not quite genuine smile flickering across his face. "And you know, Uncle, he doesn't care about me. As usual."
Uncle Bagas lowered his gaze slightly, too hesitant to answer.
"What he cares about," Navarro continued, his voice cold, "is his image. This incident will probably tarnish his name a little, and that's the only thing he'll think about."
Silence filled the car once again, the hum of the engine and the spinning wheels on the asphalt the only sounds. Navarro returned his focus to his phone, while Uncle Bagas kept his eyes fixed on the road, his jaw tightening. There was something in the young man's tone that made the atmosphere inside the car feel colder than before.
The black car drove past the large gates, entering the gated community with tight security. Tall fences and surveillance cameras watched over every corner, ensuring that only those with authority could enter. The car continued along a road lined with neatly arranged trees and grand houses, finally stopping in front of the gate of a modern, much larger, and more striking house than the others.
As soon as the vehicle stopped, before Uncle Bagas could step out to open the door, Navarro had already opened the car door himself and exited with quick steps. He walked past the front door of his house, heading straight for his room. His steps were steady as he ascended the large staircase connecting the main floor to the upper level.
However, his steps halted when he heard the hurried voice of a middle-aged woman calling him. "Young master! Wait a moment!"
Navarro turned around, finding Aunt Ira, the head of the household staff, approaching him with a worried expression. She wore her neat uniform, her usually calming face now showing signs of distress.
"Young master, are you okay?" she asked in a rushed tone. "I heard the news from the school, oh my... is it true that something happened there? I'm so worried."
Navarro sighed deeply, the weariness evident in his voice. "I'm fine, Aunt. Just a bit tired, that's all."
Aunt Ira nodded quickly, though her worried expression didn't fully fade. "If that's the case, then you should rest right away. It's not lunchtime yet, so I haven't prepared any food, but I'll bring some fruit and snacks to your room, okay?"
Navarro simply nodded briefly, saying nothing, and began to climb the stairs again. But suddenly, he stopped midway, turning to face Aunt Ira. His gaze was sharp, his voice flat but firm.
"Aunt, how did you know about the incident at school earlier?"
Aunt Ira looked slightly startled by the question, but with a soft tone, she replied, "I heard from the Master's house, young master. They contacted us. Besides, the news is already on social media. Many people are talking about it."
Navarro didn't respond immediately. He simply stared at Aunt Ira with an unreadable expression, as though weighing something in his mind. After a few seconds, he nodded once, without saying a word, then turned and continued his steps toward his room. The door to his room finally closed with a soft click, leaving Aunt Ira standing below with a contemplative look on her face.
Navarro threw himself onto the bed, the springs creaking softly as they absorbed his weight. He took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the clean white ceiling. His thoughts began to drift, returning to the events at school earlier—the chaotic and tense mass possession.
"It's started, hasn't it?" he murmured quietly, almost as if speaking to himself.
There was a tone of certainty in his voice. He knew what had really happened, and more than that, he knew what would come next. The reason was simple—because he was a reader. And what had happened earlier was the beginning of a story he had already read.
Navarro shifted his body slightly, now staring at the wall of his room. He curled up slowly, his mind sinking into memories of this world. A world that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.
This was not his world. He knew that. He was not Navarro Samudrawijaya, not the teenage boy with that identity.
One day, without warning, he had woken up in this body, in a place completely different from his previous life.
***