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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 
WHY DO THEY ALWAYS HOWL?!
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It opened. We rushed in and Brittany closed the door behind us. We were in the art room. And the only benefit to that was the there were fewer windows that made up the classroom's walls, so that monster wouldn't be able to peek in and see us too easily... But also, because the art room had a literal walk-in closet for supplies. The art room had recently been renovated last semester-- back when winter had not come as yet, and the trees were still in blooming green... Not bare skeletons.

We skirted passed the desks and quickly jogged down to the closet, but I immediately stopped. Brittany slowed down and then stopped too. She unfurrowed her brows and then slowly looked at what I was gawking at.

Blood.

Leaking from the bottom of the closet door. It was dark and glinted sickly in the moonlight, but it didn't seem to be pooling... And after hearing paper shifting inside, I understood that whatever was in there was injured,

but still alive .


Brittany immediately flicks out her pocket knife, adn although she is visibly trembling, she grits her teeth and quietly digs her fingers into the latch to open the door. I whisper in disbelief, "Brittany! Don't!"

I pull her shoulder to stop her, but we hear an oh so familiar screech echo down the hall. If the scream of the monster is loud enough to penetrate the door of the art classroom, that could only mean one of two things: one the monster is really pissed that I mistook his face for a baseball, or two...

He's much closer than we think.

We both gulp as we look at each other. I look from the closet to the door and close my eyes as I suck in air through my teeth. "Alright." I nod and thumb the lip of my old baseball cap, readying my bat. "Whenever you're ready, Brit." I pull a small desperate smile and Brittany squeezes my arm.

She readied her knife and then winked at me. When she flung the slide door open, we charged in with weapons swinging. Brittany dove in, rolling in like some sort of action hero, and I twisted my back, held my stance, and got ready to swing a hefty blow-- no matter where it landed, I was determined to at least buy Brittany some time to retreat.

I would be cover her.

After all, I thought to myself sadly as my heart beat matched that of a rabbit's, this was my fault... I knew of these horrific creatures now. I should have taken responsibility. I should have told everyone to be careful, no matter how insane it would have made me look.

I shouldn't have been playing Nancy Drew... I should have been brave enough to see the danger and warn everyone-- with the stuff I had seen previously with Mr. Clarke and Gabriel... They'd have had to wheel me away in a straight-jacket to get me to stop talking.

But now as I stood, bat held high, baseball cap hiding half my face as I took what felt like my last swing, I focused on protecting Brittany.

One of us had to survive to tell the story of why a stupid blonde b*tch with a baseball bat was found strewn across the floor, mauled beyond recognition, in the art room of Dukesbluff High.

And since I'd definitely be the one to die, i only hoped Brittany's Eulogy at my funeral was short and sweet...

After a few seconds of swinging. I slowly opened my eyes and lowered my bat. I managed to hold Brittany's shoulder and she stopped too. We were attacking air. Cowering in the corner, with cloth swaddling something in her arms was Jinx. Her eyes went from wide with terror to a teary relief. She sighed a sob.

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