The chalk snapped while the teacher was writing.
It was a small sound, but it cut through the room in a strange way. Half the class laughed.
The teacher sighed and reached for another piece without turning around. The ceiling fan kept spinning, slow and lazy, pushing warm air around without helping anyone.
She checked the time again, still it was too early for closing bell.
Her phone had lost signal ten minutes ago, it wasn't just weak it looked gone completely. No bars. No data. Even offline apps were freezing like the device itself was confused.
Hmmpp Weird.....
Two rows ahead, someone else was tapping their screen repeatedly. Another student turned their phone off and on. Same result.
The teacher continued writing as if nothing outside the whiteboard existed.
Then the floor gave a faint vibration subtle, but enough to rattle the window frame. She looked up. A few others noticed it too, exchanging confused looks. It wasn't strong enough to be called a tremor, but it didn't feel like a passing truck either.
The teacher stopped writing and turned slightly, listening. It didn't feel like a normal vibration. It came with a low rolling sound that faded too quickly.
A scream tore through the corridor outside.
The class froze. Every head turned toward the door. It wasn't the playful scream of students it was sharp and broken. Something crashed into metal lockers. Then running footsteps. Then another scream cut short.
The teacher moved to the door and opened it a few inches.
He shut it immediately and locked it.
He didn't give any explanation. Butwhat showed Just on his face was fear.
Students began standing. Questions overlapped. Someone started crying. A heavy thud slammed into the door from the outside, followed by a dragging scrape that traveled downward like fingernails across steel.
Panic bloomed.....
She didn't wait for instructions. Her siblings were in another block lower floor. The thought struck like a command. Sitting here meant gambling their lives on luck.
She slid her bag on, stepped onto the window ledge, and dropped outside before anyone could grab her.
The landing jarred her ankle, but she forced herself forward along the wall. The courtyard was no longer a schoolyard it was chaotic movement without order.
Students were running in every direction.
Some on the ground not getting back up. Others crouched over them in ways that made her stomach turn.
A figure lurched from the side passage a cleaner she recognized blood across his collar and chin. His eyes didn't focus right. He moved toward her with slow insistence.
She swung her backpack into his face and sprinted past.
The JSS corridor was in ruins bags split open, notebooks trampled, chairs overturned. Doors hung open. Silence sat wrong in the air.
She found her little brother and sister hiding where she hoped they would be under the stair recess where students sometimes hid during games. Relief hit so hard it almost made her dizzy.
She pulled them out, checked them quickly, then held their hands tight.
"We have to keep moving alright," she whispered.
They didn't get far before they nearly collided with the biology teacher from the lab wing the female teacher gripping a snapped mop handle like a spear. Her face was streaked with sweat and dust, but her eyes were steady. Two senior boys were with her, both pale, both breathing too fast.
No one asked questions. The teacher simply nodded once and folded them into the group.
They moved as one.
The first infected rushed them at a corridor bend a former student dragging one leg, mouth red. The teacher struck first, hard and direct. One boy shoved it off balance. The other finished it with a trembling second blow. No one spoke afterward.
The silence said enough.
They passed classrooms with voices inside cries for help, pounding on doors but the teacher did not open any. The sounds were too repetitive, too wrong. Survival meant cruelty now.
At the stairwell, three infected came from above at once.
Everything turned frantic and close.
The teacher drove her broken handle forward into a throat. One boy lost his grip and nearly went down the steps before she caught his shirt and hauled him back. The other boy slammed a fire extinguisher into a skull with a desperate shout.
She pulled her siblings behind her body and swung a loose chair leg until the last one fell.
Her arms shook afterward, but she didn't let go of their hands.
They reached the laboratory block winded and splattered. The prep room door still worked.
They piled inside and locked it. Tables dragged. Cabinets pushed. Metal legs screeched across tile until the entrance was barricaded.
Only then did stillness return.
The room smelled of chemicals and dust. Broken glass glittered near a sink. A body lay near the far counter already still lab coat torn open. One of the boys looked away quickly and swallowed hard.
Her sister cried quietly. Her brother tried not to.
She held them both closely trying to calm them.
The teacher checked the barricade twice more, then sank onto a stool, breathing through her nose, forcing calm back into her muscles. Up close, she looked exhausted but unbroken.
"We hold here until everything calms down ," she said quietly.
She or the other boys said nothing.