How to Save Your School From Soul Stealing Demons

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

It happens so fast that I can barely process it. It feels like my brain is lagging, failing to—or maybe trying not to—understand what it's seeing.

His tuba falls to the floor with a loud gong, and her head jerks back at a ninety-degree angle, then forward with a grunt. A look of horror crosses Hoffman's face as she goes straight for his neck again, mouth open impossibly wide.

The sound is the worst part. Meat being torn, his scream fading into high-pitched non-existence as his vocal cords get pulled to their breaking point. Behind me, I hear Watts take in a shaky gasp, and Renny shift to cover her mouth. 

As Bernadette reels back to rip off the chunk of Hoffman's flesh, she emits a low, animalistic growling that expresses an urge so primal I understand it without words: hunger.

Blood goes flying, painting the white walls of the band room, defiling the music posters as Darren goes limp, eyes rolling back. His body falls into view while Bernadette chews above him, and my stomach lurches as blood pools out onto the tiled floor. So much of it. The gore of his spurting wound registers next. The exposed muscle, crimson tissue, the bite marks.

It's so hot in the locker; my skin is clammy and I think I'm overheating. I can't breathe—when I do manage to inhale, I find myself choking on a gag. I try to stop it, but I can feel the sting of bile crawling up my throat and I know it's too late. I cover my mouth, but a cough has vomit spewing against my hand, through my fingers, splashing against the door and through the crack.

Bernadette is hunched over and chewing desperately, but at the sound of my sickness, her head snaps towards us. Through my watery eyes, I can see how unnatural it looks, how her head is almost backward, how her pupils are white and her skin is pallid. Her mouth is covered in blood and littered with bits of meat, but there's no missing the sharpness of her teeth or her widened jaw.

As Bernadette jerkily stalks towards us, Renny grabs my shoulders. and slides by me in the small space, switching our positions. Her brow is set, jaw tight. She looks prepared, but as she sidles past me, I can feel her heart pounding in her chest, just as heavy and fast as mine.

Bernadette's breathing is ragged, growing louder and louder as she nears our door. It, I think, Not she.

When it's right outside, when its shadow crosses over the moonlight leaking in from the windows, Renny throws herself forward, bursting out of the locker with a warriors yell and tackling the demon with a fierce headbutt that knocks both of them to the floor.

This was the plan, I try to remind myself. Subdue it. I try not to think about how Hoffman's already dead, how we already failed and will likely end up just like him.

Ambrose hops out of his locker to help, but Renny's already being tossed aside like a ragdoll. She hits the tile hard with a grunt of pain, ad the demon is on its feet in a second. It turns to Ambrose and uses one arm to lift him with ease, throwing him into the rack of music stands. The sound of clanging metal echoes off the walls, barely muddling Renny's loud curse of clear shock.

Then its soulless eyes are on me. And I feel like something inside of it registers; something clicks. It wants me. It wants me dead, just like Darren.

With one swift motion, I'm being yanked out of the locker. Watts tries to hold me, but his strength is no match and my arms slip out of his grasp. As I'm being lifted into the air, I do the first thing I can think of—I shove my thumbs right into those whited-out eyes.

It screeches in pain, tossing me aside to rid its sockets of my fingers. I land hard on the floor, pain shooting through my body as my elbows and tailbone connect with the tile. Watts scrambles out of the locker, but makes it nowhere—he yelps helplessly as the thing pins him up against the doors by his throat.