Mister Garcia glanced at Lily. Just for a moment.
She still hadn't moved her eyes away from the board since he started lecturing.
He cleared his throat without breaking momentum and continued.
"Nightstalkers immobilize prey with razor-sharp claws," he said, adjusting his reading glasses. "To reproduce, they inject a cocktail of fluids, amino acids and tiny eggs directly into the target's brain."
A few students grimaced. Others looked like they were about to throw up.
Mister Garcia flipped a page, squinting at the diagram, "When the offspring matures, which typically takes three to four days," he interjected, "the body becomes obsolete and peels away. That way, a fresh colony of infant Nightstalkers gets releases into the world."
Mister Garcia snapped the book shut.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you never fight a Nightstalker."
The sound didn't arrive all at once.
It slipped in between Garcia's words.
*ring - ring*
The bell.
Lily froze up.
She forgot.
*ring - ring*
Her fingers dug into the edge of her table, the surface dented underneath the pressure.
No—
The sound cut straight through her chest.
It was too sharp.
It was too close.
*RING - RING*
It grew louder.
Her lungs refused to keep rhythm.
The classroom tilted. Walls shifted. Expressions dripped off of people's faces.
Not... now—
A laugh appeared. Warped and wrong.
Her vision narrowed. Lily forced her eyes open. The world slowly compressed into a void of darkness.
*RING - RING*
—
A hand landed on her shoulder.
She flinched in shock.
Reality returned in pieces.
"—Hey. You okay there, Lily?"
The bell had stopped.
She looked up.
Mister Garcia stood there, smiling. That same easy, energetic smile he always had. Warm and harmless.
One hand was still on her shoulder, the other pressed against her table.
He released her, already turning toward the door.
"Well! That's the bell!" he laughed. "Class is over. Get a move on people—shoo, shoo!"
Chairs scraped. No words were spoken. The room quickly emptied.
No one looked at her.
Lily stayed seated, her hands still gripping the edge of her desk, heart still beating way too fast.
She calmed down.
She noticed Mister Garcia looking back once more. Only for a moment, out of the corner of her eye she caught him. He smiled, just a second longer than necessary.
He left through the door, not looking back.
Lily stood up. Her head hurt.
She walked without knowing where. Voices filled the hallway. Footsteps. People.
Students moved past her in loose streams. She brushed against someones shoulder without noticing. He muttered an apology too late to matter. Lily didn't register it.
MONSTERS CAN LOOK LIKE ANYONE.
A smiling stick figure stood next to a red silhouette with too many teeth.
PREVENTION STARTS WITH YOU.
A checklist. Simple icons.
Posters lined the walls.
She didn't read them.
"Hey." a voice behind her.
She stopped.
Leon jogged a step to catch up, falling into pace beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You coming or what? We've got field practice next."
She stood still, nodded once. They walked in silence for a few seconds.
Leon kicked at a loose strip of tape on the floor, accidentally peeling it up with the toe of his shoe.
"Nightstalkers are messed up, I don't know why Garcia enjoys teaching that stuff so much," he said, dejectingly removing the tape from his shoe.
Lily stared at the floor. She didn't answer.
Leon glanced at her. "You spaced out back there. I mean, thought you were gonna pass out or something."
Lily didn't change expression. She averted her gaze and started walking.
"I'm fine."
Her voice came out flat. Even to her own ears.
"Yeah," he said catching up. "Sure."
STAY ALERT. MONSTERS BLEND IN.
They passed another poster.
Leon snorted. "Imagine being a monster and seeing that every day. Must get old."
He didn't slow down. Lily didn't either.
They turned the next corner. The hallway narrowed closer. Leon kicked at the floor again, quieter this time.
"You know," he said, like the thought had just occurred to him, "I still don't really get why anyone signs up for this place if they don't have to."
He glanced at her.
"So, why'd you join?"
The question landed softly.
It shouldn't have meant anything. It was the kind of thing people asked all the time.
'Why are you here?'
Lily stared at the floor. The answer forming and dissolving before it could reach her mouth.
Leon shifted his weight. "I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just thought…" He shrugged. "Most people here have some big reason, you know? Lost someone... got hurt, stuff like that."
The fluorescent lights silently hummed overhead for what felt like an eternity.
"I don't know," she said finally.
Leon blinked.
"Huh?"
He waited, but she didn't say anything else.
"…Fair enough," he said, forcing a small grin. "Guess that's better than some dramatic speech."
He turned, already stepping away. "Come on. We're gonna be late."
As they walked on, Lily glanced back once. At the poster behind them. The cartoon monster's eyes had been scratched out so hard the paper was torn.
She looked down at her hands. They were steady.
Clean.
She curled her fingers, clenching her fist until nails bit into her palm.
Lily gritted her teeth.
By the time they reached the training wing, her hands were still.
The training hall smelled like old rubber and machine oil. White walls. Bright lights and clean enough to pretend nothing ever bled here. The ceiling had been raised a few meters higher than usual and was supported by thick polished looking metal pillars.
A row of students lined up near the entrance, back facing the wall. Lily and Leon took their stance, joining them in the contest for who could stand stillest and quietest for the longest.
The atmosphere was heavy.
A sliding door opened at the other end of the hall, hissing, decompressing. The teacher's gaze moved across the students one by one as he walked towards them. No one spoke.
He stoped and stood straight like a candle in front of them. Clad in navy blue attire, the three stars on his chest, woven directly on his uniform proudly displayed his status. His left eye was scratched out, probably from battle if the scar across his face was any indicator.
"Pairs of two," he finally said, already clipping a stopwatch to his belt.
Movement rippled through the line.
Some students shifted immediately, turning toward familiar faces. A few exchanged relieved looks, shoulders loosening as they fell into step beside each other.
Others hesitated, scanning the room, counting options.
Lily didn't move.
She kept her gaze on the floor, on the faint scuff marks left by boots dragged too often across the mat.
Leon stepped in beside her. He nudged Lily with his elbow. "Guess we're stuck together again," he said smilling.
The teacher rasped his voice.
"This is basic restraint protocol. No heroics. No improvising."
A dummy emerged from the floor. It stood at the far end of the hall, human-shaped in the loosest sense of the word, grey-toned, elongated, long claws, head tilted at an angle that made it look almost curious. Red circles. No bigger than an apple. One over its chest. Another beneath the chin.
"Nightstalker-class anatomy. Weak points vary, but these?" He pointed at the circles. "These are consistent. Miss them and you're dead."
Someone laughed nervously.
"You."
The student froze up.
His partner already hid in shame.
"Timer starts when you engage," the teacher said.
Sweat pearled down his temples, starring ahead. The mannequin shifted subtly in place, breathing shallow as if awaiting a move.
He gulped once, took a step forward carefully.
"Go."
The dummy moved immediately, It zig-zagged toward him at impossible angles that would turn a physicist in his grave.
The boy tried aiming, his partner had already given up on that option. They both blindly fired toward the other end of the room, only managing to grasp the general direction of the approaching shadow.
Stray bullets flew. Some hit the dummy. Most didn't.
The ones that hit through sheer luck bounced off.
Once it was within range the dummy propelled itself up into the air with its tail, spinning, and leaped toward the boy.
It was over before it even began.
"Six seconds, failed." He made a mark on the clipboard and clicked his tongue. "Alive. Barely," he added flatly.
The dummy reset itself with a dull mechanical click. It resumed its starting position, limbs locking back into place, head tilting forward again.
"Next!"
Leon swallowed, the distance between him and the dummy felt much longer than it had just a second ago. He looked at it without blinking. The red circles were still there, all he had to do was hit them.
Leon hesitated.
Lily didn't.
"Go!" the teacher said.
Leon's breath caught. "Lily!"
Too late.
Lily advanced forward without looking back. She didn't slow down. No hesitation.
Leon shifted his feet. Half a step forward then half a step back. His eyes flicked between her and the dummy, like he was waiting for something to go wrong..
The dummy zig-zagged toward her, claws scraping against the mat,
but she was faster.
Her eyes went shifted to the red circles before she realized she was looking. Her hand found a pressure point beneath the jaw without thinking. Her knee followed, precise, controlled. Her body remembered before her mind could interfere.
Throat.
Chest.
Down.
No gun needed.
The dummy collapsed on the floor with a dull thud.
"Three seconds." The stopwatch beeped.
No one spoke.
The teacher glanced at the time. Then at his clipboard.
He made a mark on the clipboard.
He was... Calm.
"Next."
Lily stepped back into line like it was the most normal thing in the world. Her gaze didn't leave the floor.
Her hands tingled. Not in pain. Something worse.
She passed Leon.
He didn't look at her.
She didn't slow down.
The bus ride home was quiet, as usual. Lily sat by the window, forehead resting tiredly lightly against the cold glass. The city slid past in dull colors. Shops, crosswalks, people moving in patterns she didn't feel part of.
At home, she dropped her bag off by the door and kicked off her shoes.
The apartment was empty.
She went straight to the bathroom, kicking loose cans out of the way from the floor. The sink light flickered when she turned it on. It always did.
Lily rolled up her sleeves and turned the tap until the water was almost too hot.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The skin reddened. The heat stung.
She scrubbed harder, watching the water spiral down the drain.
Nothing came off.
She realized and shut the tap.
For a moment, she stood there, hands dripping, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked the same as it always did.
Same black hair.
Same ordinary face.
Same tired expression.
Again.
She turned away from the mirror. The light stayed on.
Lily sat on the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees, hands clenched together. She curled up.
The first tear had caught her by surprise.
Followed by another. Then another.
She wiped them away with the back of her hand, fast, almost angry. As if crying was just another mistake she couldn't afford.
Her eyes were burning. She tried squeezing them shut, hard enough that spots bloomed behind her lids.
Lily stood up abruptly and crossed the room.
The desk drawer stuck as usual for a moment before giving way. Inside were drinks. Many bright colors. She grabbed one and popped the tab with shaking fingers. She drank half of it in one go. Didn't taste it. Her stomach protested. She drank the rest anyway.
Another can followed. Then a third.
Lily sat back down on the bed, can clutched in one hand, phone in the other.
She set the alarm.
Two minutes.
Again.
Her leg bounced uncontrollably. Her vision started to blur.
She collapsed on the bed.
The alarm went off. She sprang up, almost on reflex, only to fall straight back down, hitting her head on the bedframe.
It hurt her.
She laughed quietly, a broken sound that didn't belong to anything funny.
"I'm trying," she said to no one.
More tears quilled from her eyes.
"What am I supposed to do?"
She stood up again.
A can slipped from her hand and rolled across the floor.
She went toward the bathroom again and turned on the shower. All the way cold.
Lily hated that part the most.
She didn't undress, didn't hesitate.
The shock hit her like a slap. Her breath left in a sharp, broken gasp, shoulders tensed up and her hands curled into fists. Cold soaked through her clothes, the Fabric clung to her skin. Her teeth chattered, fingers went numb.
When she stepped out, water leaked everywhere.
Her clothes were heavy now.
Her movements slow.
Lily didn't register.
She crossed the room and sat back down on the bed.
Just for a second.
Her head dipped.
She told herself she would straighten up.
She didn't.
She fell asleep.
Again.
When Lily woke up, her hands were red again.