The air in the classroom had gone heavy, as though an invisible weight pressed down on everyone's chest. The last echoes of the phantom heartbeat Nyra had felt were still drumming faintly in her mind, slow, deliberate, like a warning that refused to fade.
She shifted in her seat, fingers clenched tightly around her pen. To anyone else, she probably looked normal — just another student staring at her notes. But inside, her body was at war with itself. The thrum of blood in the veins of everyone around her was louder than the teacher's voice. Louder than the scratching of chalk. Louder even than her own thoughts.
Tessa, sitting to her left, leaned closer. Her glossy dark-brown curls fell like a curtain around her round face, the golden-brown warmth of her eyes full of concern. "Nyra," she whispered, her soft lips barely moving, "are you okay? You're pale."
Nyra forced a nod, her throat dry. "I'm fine," she muttered, though her voice wavered.
From the corner of her vision, Aisha adjusted the navy-blue hijab that matched the school's uniform trim, the fabric framing her delicate features with quiet dignity. Her almond-shaped eyes, dark and steady, lingered on Nyra with a depth that always made Nyra feel as if Aisha could see past her excuses.
"You don't look fine," Aisha said softly, her voice carrying that melodic lilt that made every word sound like it had been carefully chosen.
The teacher's chalk screeched against the board, snapping Nyra out of her haze. She exhaled slowly, trying to ground herself. Not here. Not now. If she lost control again, she might not be able to stop.
The rest of the day blurred. Every sound seemed sharper, every scent stronger, every heartbeat around her an endless temptation. She had barely made it through lunch without her hands shaking. She kept her tray untouched while Tessa chatted about some silly argument between two students in another class. Aisha, ever observant, noticed Nyra's untouched food but said nothing, only giving her a look that carried both suspicion and patience.
By the time the final bell rang, Nyra was exhausted. But relief washed over her — at least she could finally escape the suffocating walls of the school.
Or so she thought.
---
The schoolyard buzzed with chatter as students poured out through the gates. Tessa linked her arm through Nyra's, her warmth grounding. "Walk with me? We haven't had time to really talk since I came back from Willowridge."
Nyra hesitated, then nodded. Willowridge. That was the town Tessa had gone to when her grandmother had fallen sick. It felt like a lifetime ago now, though it had only been a few weeks.
"I want to hear everything," Tessa continued, smiling. "And don't even think about holding back."
Aisha walked on Nyra's other side, her steps graceful, her books hugged to her chest. Though she said nothing, her presence was strangely reassuring, like a silent anchor.
The three girls strolled down the path leading away from the school. The sun was beginning to set, the horizon painted in hues of gold and crimson. For a brief moment, it almost felt normal. Nyra almost forgot about the phantom pulse still echoing in the back of her skull.
Until it returned.
Ba-dum.
The sound reverberated through her body, a ghostly drumbeat that wasn't hers. It was closer this time. Louder.
Ba-dum.
She froze mid-step. Her grip on Tessa's arm tightened involuntarily.
"Nyra?" Tessa's voice was small now, tinged with worry.
Nyra's gaze darted around. Students were dispersing into the streets, their laughter and footsteps scattering into the evening air. But none of them seemed to notice it. None of them heard it.
Only her.
Ba-dum.
Her breath caught. Her mouth watered. The phantom heartbeat merged with the very real ones around her, creating a dizzying symphony that clawed at the last threads of her restraint.
"I—" Nyra began, but her voice faltered. She didn't even know what she meant to say.
---
The world tilted. She stumbled forward, her vision blurring. The hunger flared, raw and demanding, clawing through her chest like an animal finally breaking free of its cage.
She smelled it before she saw it.
Blood.
A boy, maybe fourteen, had fallen on the pavement near the gates, scraping his knee badly. The crimson trickled down his shin, catching the last rays of the setting sun like molten rubies.
Nyra's body reacted before her mind could stop it. Her pupils dilated, fangs pressing painfully against her gums. The scent was intoxicating, wrapping around her like a velvet chain, pulling her toward him.
Tessa gasped. "Nyra!"
Aisha moved fast, her hand closing tightly around Nyra's wrist. For someone so delicate-looking, her grip was firm, unyielding. "Don't." Her voice was low, steady, almost commanding.
Nyra's breath came in ragged gasps. Her throat burned, her entire body screaming for her to give in. But Aisha's dark eyes held hers, calm yet fierce, as though daring her to break free.
The boy's friends helped him up, oblivious, and hurried away. The scent thinned, but the damage was already done.
Nyra wrenched her wrist out of Aisha's hold and stumbled backward. Her chest heaved, shame crashing down on her in waves. She could still taste the phantom of that scent in the back of her throat, bitter and sweet all at once.
"What was that?" Tessa's voice cracked. Her eyes were wide, filled with fear she was trying to hide. "Nyra… you looked—"
"I have to go." Nyra's voice was hollow. Without waiting for either of them, she turned and ran, the evening wind biting against her skin.
---
The streets blurred. Her legs carried her aimlessly until she was far from the school, far from the people she could hurt. Finally, she collapsed onto a bench in the empty park, clutching her head in her hands.
Her pulse was erratic. Her veins felt aflame. And that phantom heartbeat… it was still there.
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
Only now, it wasn't just in her head. It was all around her, resonating in the shadows that crept across the park as night fell.
Nyra lifted her gaze slowly.
The park was empty. Yet in the corner of her vision, a silhouette lingered beneath the old oak tree. Tall, unmoving, its features lost in the growing darkness.
Her breath hitched.
The heartbeat grew louder.
Ba-dum.
The silhouette tilted its head, as though studying her.
And then — it smiled.