"...wake up! WAKE UP!"
Tariq jolted upright, rubbing his eyes as he scanned the room.
Zora stood there, looking proud of herself. "It's time to go, Tariq."
He blinked at her, deadpan. Then laid back down and burrowed into his comforter.
"No."
She huffed and grabbed the edge of the blanket. "You... have... to... get... dressed!" she growled, yanking with all her strength.
Tariq cracked one eye open and peeked out from under the covers. She was fully committed — red-faced, eyes shut, teeth clenched, struggling like her life depended on it.
Then he let go.
Zora stumbled backward and landed with a grunt. She popped back up, triumphant, hugging the bundled comforter to her chest.
"There! Now you can't go back to sleep," she said smugly.
Tariq stared at her, unimpressed. "Where are we going?"
Zora struck a pose and pointed dramatically at the ceiling. "TO THE STARS!"
He stared harder.
Never in his life had he felt more irritated.
"Just... okay," he sighed in defeat.
She turned to leave but paused at the door.
"You have to get up. They're waiting for us."
Tariq groaned and cracked open his eyes, blinking against the harsh glare of the overhead lights in his classroom.
As the day's events rushed back to him, he winced and quickly sat up — his body still sore from the pain. His first instinct was to check on his students.
He pushed himself to his feet, still shaky… and came face to face with one of them.
A girl.
She stood motionless, eyes wide, expression blank.
"Oh... sorry. I must've passed out," he said with a forced chuckle. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer.
Her eyes didn't even twitch.
"Um... excuse me?" Tariq waved a hand in front of her face — and felt it catch on something.
Sticky. Stringy.
His breath caught. He yanked his hand back.
Then he looked closer.
Thin, nearly invisible threads stretched from her shoulders and arms — all the way up to the ceiling.
Tariq furrowed his brow. What are these threads?
He glanced around the room — and froze.
Four more students were standing upright, just like the girl in front of him. All unmoving. All silent. All staring into nothing.
A cold unease crept down his spine.
He moved toward the next student — and immediately got caught.
His arms jerked as something thin and sticky tugged at his skin and clothes.
He looked down.
It wasn't thread.
It was a web.
And not just any web — this one was dense, unnaturally strong. The strands clung to him like they were alive.
He struggled, trying to pull them off, but they didn't tear easily. Every movement made the threads tighten. His heartbeat quickened.
"The fuck is this" he whispered to himself
Movement caught the corner of Tariq's eye.
He snapped his head up.
One of his students — a young woman — stood against the wall. Her skin looked wrong — pale, almost translucent. A clump of her long black hair fell limp to the ground. Her eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Please... please, I didn't want to do it," she choked out. "It wasn't me... it wasn't my fault."
Tariq's heart pounded. "What do you mean? What happened to them?"
She looked at him.
Locked eyes.
Then tilted her head slightly — and just like that, the tears stopped.
"I killed them," she said calmly. "Hung them up for food."
Tariq's blood ran cold.
He spun around, eyes scanning the webbed students again. Closer this time. One boy's neck was crushed, twisted at a brutal angle. Another had a sunken chest like it had been caved in. Two more were tightly cocooned, thick webbing bulging around key arteries.
He turned back to the girl.
"Hey... you couldn't have done this. Something happened to you. Just tell me—what really happened here?"
She smiled.
It stretched too wide.
Wrong.
Something underneath her skin twitched.
Tariq blinked—instinct more than thought—and when his eyes opened again, she was gone.
Confused and shaken, he stood frozen.
Then—breathing. Soft. Ragged. Behind him.
He turned slowly.
And there she was again.
Closer now.
Her posture hunched. Her skin paler. Her eyes… both of them burning deep, venomous red.
"Oh shi—"
Tariq stumbled back, his foot catching in a web.
He fell hard, crashing into more of the sticky strands. They clung to him like muscle and silk, wrapping around his arms and back as he thrashed.
She was gone.
Vanished again.
But the sound remained.
Breathing.
Soft. Ragged. Close.
His gaze darted around the room. Empty. No movement.
Then slowly—hesitantly—he looked up.
She was on the ceiling.
All fours.
Pressed against it like an insect, her head twisted down to stare at him. Her long black hair hung toward him like roots. Her bloodshot eyes burned a deep, glossy red.
Tariq's throat tightened.
"L-look..." he stammered, lifting a trembling hand. "I-I d-don't know what you want..."
She smiled.
That same devilish smile — too wide. Too calm. She was enjoying this.
Something twitched beneath her skin again. Hard this time. Her whole frame shivered from it.
Tariq's heart thundered in his ears. Panic shot through his chest, thick and paralyzing.
I'm gonna die... I'm gonna die...
The thought looped endlessly in his mind as he stared at her in horror.
But then... she stopped smiling.
Her expression changed — eyes still wide, but now uncertain.
She crept backward, slowly, until she perched in the corner of the ceiling like a frightened animal. Her eyes never left him.
Then she spoke — her voice rasping now, strained, dry like bone on stone.
"What... are... you?"
She shrank further into the corner, trembling.
Tariq froze.
She was afraid.
Of me?
Before he could speak, a low growl rolled through the room. Not from her. From above.
He snapped his head up just in time to catch them—two glowing eyes, floating high in the shadows, locked onto him like twin suns behind smoke.
Then they vanished.
The sound of shattering glass cut through the tension.
He turned back—just in time to see the girl's shadow disappear through the smashed classroom window.
Gone.
Leaving him alone.
Breathing hard.
Covered in web.
Confused. Shaking.
And more terrified than he had ever been in his life.