Their plan wasn't perfect. It was barely even a plan.
But it was the only thing they had.
The school office.
If there was any place left with records, contact logs, phones—answers—it would be there.
Kaede had made the call.
"We can't just rot in this damn library. There has to be something left—maps, intercom access, a radio… anything."
No one argued.
They moved quietly through the hall, flashlights flickering low, weapons clutched tight in trembling hands. Broken glass crunched beneath their feet despite their careful steps. The walls of Sankt Viktoria Akademie für Mädchen once bore the elegance of a forgotten aristocratic age—gilded frames, soft red carpets, polished marble trims.
Now, they stank of death.
Blood had dried in long streaks on the floor. Some desks were overturned. The lockers hung open like screaming mouths, some with nails dragged across them.
And the silence was deceptive.
It didn't last long.
They passed the hallway leading to the school café—"Mädchenbrise," once a cozy, overpriced space where girls laughed over iced lattes and studied for chemistry.
Now it was filled with them.
The infected.
Dozens of them.
Girls in shredded uniforms, twitching and jerking as they fed on something they had already torn into so much that it didn't resemble a body anymore.
Katharina's breath caught.
"Don't. Stop," Kaede whispered.
Too late.
One of the infected raised its head. Eyes white, mouth hanging open. Gore smeared from chin to collarbone.
It shrieked.
Then the rest turned.
Chaos.
They surged from the café, sprinting and snarling, glass shattering as they burst through the tall windows and into the hallway.
"RUN!" Henriette screamed, grabbing Monika's wrist and dragging her.
Katharina swung her metal bar into the nearest creature—a former classmate, her cheek half torn away. The impact cracked her jaw sideways, but she didn't fall. It took three more hits to put her down.
Screams echoed.
A girl from another dorm—one of the survivors they'd picked up—slipped. Jocelyn tried to help her, but the infected were too fast.
They pounced.
The girl's cry was sharp, high-pitched—then cut off as her throat was torn open. Blood sprayed in an arc against the marble floor. Her eyes stared blankly as they ripped her apart, her limbs twitching violently.
Elyria froze—just for a second—but Kaede grabbed her by the collar.
"MOVE!"
They broke into a classroom, slammed the door shut, and barricaded it with desks.
Panting. Shaking.
Monika vomited in the corner.
Seraphina sat slumped against the wall, hands smeared in blood—not her own, but still.
"How many—" Katharina tried to ask, but her voice gave out.
"Two," Kaede said grimly. "Maybe three. That girl from the music dorm, and the twins. They didn't make it."
Henriette stared at the blood dripping from her metal pipe.
"They were just here. Ten minutes ago…"
Silence again.
Not peace. Just aftermath.
The infected scratched at the door for a while, then faded—drawn by something else. Something deeper inside the building.
Jocelyn wiped her face, voice shaking. "We… we can't keep doing this."
"We have to," Kaede replied. "The office isn't far. We get what we need. Then we decide."
Katharina stood up, heart hammering in her ears. Her hands were slick with sweat. Her arms ached from swinging her weapon.
And still—they moved.
Down the stairwell. Past the chemistry labs. Through a corridor still wet with blood.
The school office loomed ahead, just past a locked gate.
And something about the silence in that wing… felt different.
Like they weren't the only ones thinking of the office.