1         
He was sitting in his bed, staring out the window. The absolute deprivation of creativity and things that even really interest him had rendered him in a state of unending boredom. His alarm clock flashed repeatedly at him, in that red light he abhorred. The time was 6 in the morning, and he was supposed to be getting up and ready for another day of the same repeated activities he was to perform everyday, which had also taken him here, staring out his window, verging on the brink of madness. The small electronic beeping had been fazed out of his reality while he sat there contemplating all of his life choices. Deciding this was no way to start his day and that all this would do would make his day far more dreary, he got out of his bed and proceeded to get dressed. He lived in a 2 story home, with him on the top floor and the garage on the bottom, where his younger resided. He heard him start his day much more musically than him. His brother was an amatuer gutarist, and he woke up everyday and practiced a song he was learning for school. It was a very low quality song, something any loser who cared to try to learn the thing could do so, but yet quite complex, and took years to master. He had been trying to perfect his playthrough of the song for roughly 7 months now. Upstairs, the other brother tried to tune out the song. He resented this song and hoped the writers of it suffered a slow and painful death. As he was packing he thought of the other areas of his house, where his mother and father slept. They were likely already awake and very physically active with each other. He knew that by the time he went downstairs, the both of them would already be there, complaining that he didn’t wake up and come down from his room fast enough. He resented this about them, along with nearly everything about them. They were both micromanagers, attempting to control every aspect of his life, and shelter him from anything they deemed unfit for him. As he walked downstairs, the exact things he predicted happened, and he marked down that today was going to be manotanous and overall fucked, as most his days felt. He finished packing his bag and took the microwave burrito his mom gave him that she had bought on clearance from the Walmart a few months ago. He said his goodbyes and walked with his brother towards their bus stop. His brother was in middle school, and considered himself a ‘badass’, which means he was cruel to him and enjoyed picking at him. Because he had let his veil down too many times to try and trust him, the brother knew the things that made him tick, but this morning the brother put his headphones in and turned on insanely loud music. This relieved him. The brother was usually docile in this mood, which was a nice change of pace from the average activites of this walk. His bus came first taking him and the other few kids at the bus stop to their destination. He had very few friends, most of who didn’t take this bus. In fact, most of his friends didn’t even live in this state. His bus ride was boring as usual, riding through the inner city. Pittsburg was a very lovely city if you were passing through, or if you were a tourist, but living here was a very different story. The historic buildings turn into markers that you are nothing, and that this city was here after you were born and it will be here hundreds of years after you move to a new plane of life. But then again, doesn’t that happen in every city? Maybe, he thought. He looked around the bus to distract him from his everyday staring at the cityscape. There was a sea of heads, most of them staring down at a screen. He didn’t own a smartphone. His parents had taken it from him and never planned to give it back. They had left it in their old house in Colorado Springs. Ignoring his resentment for his parents for not letting him proceed through life like an average high schooler, he looked at other people. Some kids were handing around a vape, and doing cool tricks with the smoke. He was tempted to ask for it, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He assumed that groups like that took to thier own and fucked everyone else over, so he decied against it. It wasn’t like he didn’t smoke at all; he dabbled in it on the occasion, but he assumed he couldn’t inhale all the smoke like they did, and he would fill the bus with smoke and get himself and the other kids kicked off, which would surely seal his place as someone to not talk to by this group, and if they affiliated with anyone else, they would also likely exclude him from anything if he tried to get involved with them. His thoughts of this group faded from his mind as the bus stopped at his favorite stop. He didn’t know the street name, but he loved it anyway. He loved it because the girl he loved got on here. Her name was Izzy, and she had long brown hair. Today, she wore a black NWA t-shirt that was about 3 sizes too big for her, baggy black corduroy pants, and a beanie with the words ‘Jack Daniels’ embroidered on it. The sun shone on her beautiful eyes, the color of night. She wore pink lipstick, which was the only color on her that seemed out of place, which made her even more beautiful to him. She walked slowly to the back of the bus, which today was unusually crowded, and she looked around. The majority of the seats were taken, and the ones that were empty were the ones that nobody dared sit in. Why, he was unaware, but they were always empty and everyone planned on keeping them empty, and Izzy was no exception to this. The only seat open was directly across from him, which he realized and suddenly his heart rate spiked exponentially. She came and sat down. He was instantly in a nervous sweat of happiness and fear. Her beauty was directly in front of him and he had no idea to either attempt to strike up a conversation or to play it cool and say nothing. He was compenplating deeply when she spoke to him on her own accord. “Hey you, do you have a lightning cord?”, she asked him, which shook him a little bit. He wasn’t expecting this. Perhaps today might not be as monotonous as he thought it would be. “Yea, I have 2. Do you need a battery pack as well?”, he replied, trying to be as helpful as possible. He knew that this was probably his best shot at getting to talk to her. “Uh, yea I do actually, I forgot mine this morning. ありがとうございます.”, she replied. He was confused by what she said because he didn’t understand the last part. Lucky for him, it showed on his face and she explained it to him. “That means thank you in Japanese. My best friend is Japanese so she’s been teaching me some basic phrases, and I’m tryna practice them in real world scenarios.”. She blushed, “Thought it wouldn’t be awkward, my bad.”. His heart gushed a little. She was so adorable when she was like this. He had a few classes with her and had been looking at her then. “It’s ‘ight, it was cute.” He immediately was terrified the second the words escaped his lips. Time slowed, and his reality was shaky. He really didn’t feel like crashing out this morning. God fucking damnit, he thought as he was waiting for her reply, depending on it to be something good and not something that would obliterate what little sense of hope and light in his life. Then, her mouth opened. “Cute, huh? Well I think you're cute when you stare at me  all flustered like this.”. She stopped for a second, “Wait, aren’t you in my art class? You stare at me like, all the time.”. Oh fuck, she knows about that? “Uh, my bad,” He replied, suddenly anxious beyond belief. Damn, and here I thought I was being slick with the staring, he thought. “Well, it’s cute. Can I get your number? I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently.” ‘Holy shit’ were the only two words that could currently mark how he felt. This was literally insane and suddenly, his anxiety melted and he felt immortal. He lavished in this immortal moment, for it felt as if it lasted an eternity. Alas, as quick as it formed, his moment had faded, and the bus pulled to a stop. His eyes opened as Izzy got up, leaving the bus as quick as she got on. He often wonders why his thoughts get so vivid, the feeling as if they are happening, just not to this version of him, the one that lives and breathes in this reality. He sighs. The hallucinations have been getting worse since he moved here. Whatever. The meds didn’t help, so he just got up, shook it off, and headed to his first class of the day. The class where he actually had a friend.


2
        He opened the creaky door that felt like it was straight out of a handbook for building the shittest classroom ever. The windows were plexiglass, and usually fogged up beyond belief. There was no natural sunlight that could get in, and the lights were the type that you would see when you're getting interrogated. The tables were most certainly repurposed operating tables. Rumor had it that the old science teacher used to dissect bodies here. In the room, under those lights that most certainly would give you skin cancer sat Josh. Josh had dirty blonde hair, the kind you would expect a ‘thug’ kid to have. He wore a red hoodie, one that made him stick out like a sore thumb, yet also let him blend in. His jeans were the kind that you could buy in bulk at Costco, which fit the financial crisis his family was suffering. His dad took nearly all of his family’s money and went off with some prostitute to Vegas, where he was killed in a gunfight on the strip.  Josh was his only friend, as he was Josh’s only friend. “Yo, what’s up dude,” Josh said as he sat down next to him, getting settled in for whatever lay ahead of them here. “Same shit, different day man. Hallucinated about Izzy again. What about you gang, what’s goin’ on in the latest episode of Josh’s life of totally absurd fuckery?”He replied to Josh, an almost comical tone in his voice. His mood tended to get better when he was around Josh. Josh laughed a little before he responded, “You know, the usual screaming and beating violent thugs senseless with a balloon, a paper clip, and a rubber band where they were all armed with illegal firearms.” He laughed a little. Josh always had a thing for dumb 80’s shit. He always said he was born in the wrong generation. “You, sire, are not fucking MacGyver. Besides, that godforsaken show is like, 60 years old. Seriously, find a new hobby,” He said as he watched the room began to fill in with people. Most of them were complete psychopaths, and liked this class. The rest were normal folk, put in this class because nobody wanted to be in it, so therefore it always had open seats. New meat for the machine.  “Ah ah, MacGyver is 61 years old. Get your dates correct sir, or else I’ll have to put you to death,” His voice took on a very poor British accent, one that almost sounded Australian, “Thou’s knowlegde of dumb shite from the years of MCMLXXXV is lesser than that of head duke sir Joshua Sakins XIV? Thy shall execute you by my own hand!”Behind them, a voice spoke coldly. “Execution, eh? Perhaps we should save that for class.” Their science teacher had emerged from somewhere in the darkness of their class room. His name was Mr. Springs, but everyone referred to him as Mr. Murder, and he seemed to like that name. He was tall, with skin the color of milk, and eyes that seemed to pierce your soul and damn you to eternity in the lake of fire. He wore a lab coat that smelled of death. Everyone thought he was a serial killer or a back alley surgeon. Him and Josh thought he was both. “Good morning Mr. Murder. You seem in high spirits today,” Josh said to him tauntingly. “Well of course I’m in high spirits. Today we are going to dissect pig hearts. Hearts, as you know, are the second most vital organ in the body, and it’s such an honor to be able to get inside of these beautiful things today and see their inner workings. Now flip to page 459 in your textbooks to analyze the anatomy and from there I’ll pass out the hearts.” He pulled out his textbook and scrolled to the designated page. Inside, he found a picture of a heart. The page of the book, which had seen its fair share of usage over the years, had blood stains on it. He guessed it wasn’t the first time it was used to assist in an operation of this manner. He considered himself lucky when he looked around the room, and saw that a girl three seats back from him had chunks of rotted organ tissue on her page, rendering it unable to be seen. “Fucking disgusting, isn’t it?” Joshua said, staring at the girl's book. “Shit makes me sick. Why do we have to do this anyways?” He looked at Josh and took a voice mocking that of Mr. Murder. “In the name of science of course.”Josh chuckled at that. Mr. Murder started the lesson , and after droning on for what seems like an eternity, he broke out the ice chest. He would’ve never thought the chest had hearts in it. If he didn’t know it, if it was on the beach on a hot day, he would’ve opened it up, looking for Dr. Pepper. But alas, there were no Dr. Pepper’s, only organs of deceased, tortured animals. He passed out the hearts, one to a table. They looked reminiscent of an undercooked meatloaf, almost begging to be tossed in the oven for several more minutes. As the scalpels came out, Josh got anxious. He never liked scalpels, as they were frequently used on him as a child, when he liked skateboarding and breaking ribs. He asked to use the bathroom, which left him stranded there, to perform this alone. He made the first incision as Mr. Murder had instructed, but after the first one, he was instructed to use the textbook as his only guidance. He began cutting, small and controlled at first, but then as he got less grossed out, he got more free, more open to what they were supposed to do, which actually evaded his mind, but was going to continue looking productive. He set the scalpel down for a second, and wiped his brow. The lights above him seemed to be getting hotter, almost that of the sun scorching the barren ground that was this godforsaken table. Then, as he picked up the scalpel and applied it back onto the heart, a shock went out, so small that his human mind didn't process it at first, but the effects it had were nigh instantaneous. The heart began beating. Small at first, so small that he didn’t notice, but it grew, producing more and more blood. As he noticed the increasing blood flow, he stopped. The heart picked up the pace, going from a light, slow beating to that of an obese man at the gym. Blood splattered everywhere, splashing on the textbook, dousing his clothes. The heart began to seal itself of the wounds he had created, and began to form a body. He watched in horror as veins grew out of the heart, the blood flow now directed into these vessels. Underneath the veins, a skeletal structure formed, with tissue and muscle forming right behind it. Then came the skin. He looked around the classroom, seeing if anyone else was seeing this absolute fucking insanity. But, the classroom was empty, nothing but those lights and empty tables. The skin covered the toes first, but then grew its way upward, as the organs began to fill the body up. The skin was all the way up to the chest now, and slowing down. And then, as soon as it started, the formation was over, the body was formed, pale and dead, yet formed from nothing but a heart. He stood up, his body shaking with fear, and looked over the body. It lay there naked, disgusting and dead, yet the pure human form was so gorgeous to him, alive or not. It had long dirty blonde hair, with pieces of it dyed a fading brown hue. The figure looked familiar to him, as if he had dreamed of it before hundreds of times. He looked at the face, and when he did his heart stopped. No, it couldn’t be. Night black eyes stared up at the ceiling, lifeless, their movement forever ceased. Holy fuck, this can’t be happening. His reality was falling apart at the weak, poorly manufactured seams. It was Izzy. She was dead, and he had killed her.


3
        He opened his eyes, which were now bloodshot red, and filled with tears. Josh had tapped his shoulder. “Dude, are you fucking good? Do you need something? Water? Meds?”He covered his face as he shed a tear, one from experiencing something that never happened in this life. “No, I...I think I’m okay. Just...fucking hate this class.” The trembling tone in his voice showed that something was amiss, but Josh knew better than to pick at him on the matter. “Well, get your ass up then. It’s lunch time.” Josh offered him an assist up, which he gladly took. His legs still felt too weak after the ordeal, but he needed to regain strength. Assisted strength, but strength nonetheless. He gathered his things, and headed out. His heart was already gone, but the tools he was using remained there, covered in the blood of Izzy’s beating heart. He left the textbook there to rot, all of its bloodsoaked pages despised by every cell in his soul. Him and Josh made their way slowly through the wallways toward the freedom of lunch, where some food would likely help his condition. He looked at the graffiti on the wall, its loud colors soothing him. He always liked graffiti, the way it bends in weird ways to form letters, the shading of the text like that of an old cartoon. By the time they reached the lunchroom, he was standing on his own feet again, the shaking slowing to a manageable level. The lunchroom was fairly expansive, rounding out to roughly 1500 square feet. He knew how to tell things like these because his dad worked in flooring, and had passed down all his knowledge to him, but more to his brother. His brother had always been the favorite child, and he would always resent that despite trying to be the best kid he could to them, he was always only second. Idle in his thoughts, he walked into the line to receive the processed ‘chicken’ sandwich, which he knew was certainly some form of discount mystery meat, or it was a Biotechnia thing, which meant it was worm meat. The source of the meat didn’t really matter, it tasted horrible either way. It was the most hated meal in the school, and the line was incredibly short, which is why he walked into it subconsciously. As he waited there, calming himself over what just occurred in his own mind, he began to look around the room. Dead. She was fucking dead. Right there, on that damned table, her body lay there, still, unblinking, her beauty changed from death’s grasp. Not like she wasn’t gorgeous still, but her skin had gone from a vibrant tan to a cold, deep white; her eyes, dark in life, but even darker when life had left them abandoned like old warehouses. Everyone around him seemed to be in a fairly decent mood, smiling and talking with each other. They all seemed so warm and alive, whereas he felt empty, dead himself after seeing Izzy in such a state. He realized that he was crying then. Not a bellowing sob, the ones that rattle one's soul, but the kind where the mental suffering has accidentally caused a cataclysmic welling and condensing of water in the eyes. The tears dropped on the floor, so loud to him, but insignificant to anyone and everyone else in the room, their conversations continuing without any attention being directed to him. After the first droplet fell, none other followed. He had regained control of his body, and had ceased the crying. With his body back in his own control, he decided to look up and decipher his current surroundings. As he picked his head up, he saw that he was almost to receive his meal, which was certainly going to be shit, but that didn’t really matter. His appetite had nosedived, just like the stock market, so he was likely just going to toss the thing anyway. As he continued to survey the area, he saw Josh in a separate line, talking to a girl he had never seen before. Odd, Josh was usually afraid of girls.  Then, not 7 people behind Josh stood Izzy. She was no longer wearing the beanie, and looked as if she was shivering. She had PE last period, so it wasn’t an awful shock. Pittsburg in the fall was awfully chilly, especially with snow on the way. She was looking down at her phone, her old and battered headphones plugged in, cranking away at giving her music. She looked so fucking gorgeous, standing there, oblivious to the whole world around her. He stared at her for just a few moments, taking in her beauty to soothe his soul from the horrors of his own mind. The images flashed back to him of her dead corpse, still as gorgeous as she stood here, alive and well, not more than 10 minutes after her gruesome, gory death. She was truly immortal to him, being able to survive a death that never happened here, in this world. After a few minutes, he realized his eyes were still on her, fixated. His heart was truly her’s now; anything and everything she could want out of him was her’s at just the snap of her fingers, those gorgeous fingers that tapped away at the screen, beckoning more music from the abyssal void that is the internet. She looked up at him, and smiled. She gave a little wave, and he reciprocated. God he loved her with all his heart and more. The lunchlady cried out for the next in line, and he was forced to take his eyes off of Izzy and to receive his foul sandwich. The sandwich was sticky, slathered in cheap barbeque sauce to hide its cheap fake meat taste. He loathed this abomination of a meal, and resented that he got in line for it in the first place. Even worse, he now had lost track of Josh once more. Alone, among a crowd of people larger than some indie bands' entire fanbase, he was dumbfounded as what to do and where to go. Fortunately, because he didn’t know anyone, it was fairly easy for him to blend in with the mass of people exiting the room, going to socialize. He walked for a while down the main corridor of the school until he realized everyone went away and he was standing there, alone. The only audible sound around him was distant human talking, incomprehensible, but one could tell it was happiness of some kind. As he stood there longer he knew that he had never been here before. This hallway was dim compared to how bright the other ones were, the lockers here dusty and barren, untouched for many months. The hallway kept going on beyond this point, seemingly to no end. He thought that he was hallucinating again, maybe his subconscious symbolizing his descent into madness. Despite his inner thoughts telling him that down that hallway, 50 feet and 10 minutes away, lay his lifeless body, he wandered further down, unsure of what reality he existed in. The hallway smelt dank, almost that of a cavern; the poorly maintained lights flickered off and on, sometimes not coming back, remaining dark. As he continued, he noticed a fork in the path, cutting left, towards the front of the school. When he reached the split, he saw that down the hallway going left were stairs. On those stairs sat people, 5 of them to be exact. Nobody wore any clothing that was distinctly characterizing, mostly gray and black. One wore a blue t-shirt advertising a fictional soda, another one wore a bowler hat and a black tracksuit. He thought that maybe he would go talk to them, they seemed chill enough. He needed new affiliates to hang out with anyways. Alas, he looked away from down the fork in the path and continued down the hallway, which looked like it got narrower and narrower. As he continued forward, it looked more and more dilapidated, almost to the point of collapse. At the end of the hall, someone rounded the corner. The figure wore a navy long sleeved shirt, battered by time. The figure’s jeans were perfectly fitting, not too baggy to where they would be considered cool, but not tight enough to be considered skinny jeans. The figure’s hair was dark, and at shoulder length, and had some sort of cosmetic sparkle? His aunt used to put sparkly ribbons in her hair just like these, but he forgot the name. He continued to study her as he walked onward, with her standing there, staring back at him. Her dark skin was so clear, and her ruby red lipstick contrasting every other color on her. The colorful lipstick on an otherwise completely dark outfit, was it a trend or maybe it was a sign? It was applied in the same bizarre manner as Izzy's pink lipstick was, so maybe they knew each other. As he continued towards the figure, the more red he saw on not only her lips but her face and her chest, splattered across her with an impressive force. By the time they were within 20 feet of each other, he had noticed that couldn’t have been human. The girl’s dark skin was not only dark in color, but it wasn’t skin. In fact, she was just a shadow, walking by him. Maybe she was here in another time, another reality, but not this one. Here, she was a figment of something, not quite here, not quite there, but scattered about in between, being reformed by hand and placed right here, walking down this very old and beaten hallway. Her facial features were indistinguishable in this shadowy form, but he could make out some form of fear and pain. Her eyes were the darkest part of her, simply being black dots on the canvas, like that of a face drawn by a child. As they came closer to the point of interception, or as least as close as they would come, he could feel the pure energy of evil and vengeance, the red on her seeming to begin to drip. Time felt like it had a delay for a second time that day as they passed. When they were at their closest point, she came to a complete stop, leaving a single footstep echo ringing through the hall. He felt as if he was still walking, and was still telling his body to move, but the movement had ceased. He stood there, perfectly still, next to this shadow person. Surely he was hallucinating again, but he had no way to get out of the trance. He tried to scream out, but that too, was only imagined. The girl next to him stood there, in the now flickering lights, waiting to do anything. As they stood there in what felt like hours, he watched her from his peripheral vision, prepping for what she would do next. As the lights continued to flicker, he noticed her twitching. At first it was nothing, but then, after several minutes, she seemed to be glitching like an NPC in a Bethesda game, her body convulsing involuntarily. When her neck started twitching, she began screaming. It was bloodcurdling and high pitched, on a frequency that he didn’t think he should be able to comprehend. The scream pierced his skull,  like his brain was aflame. The scream only got louder while his body still couldn’t move, unable to hit this fucking demon monster and shut it up. The sound was painful at this point, and it made him feel violent. He wanted to slam her head against the walls until they were painted a deep crimson, with chunks of bone and brain smeared throughout, if she had either of those. As the screaming got louder, the twitching got worse, almost looking as if she was dancing. But then, the twitching stopped abruptly and so did the screaming. His relief was short lived, but God, was it the best relief he had ever felt. His aggression against her faded instantly, and he was tranquil once more, euphoric even. While enjoying the euphoria, he looked at his surroundings again. The shadow girl was still there, but she stood still now, looking forward in the flickering light. Then the light went out.


4
        When the lights were cut, so was everything else. The air conditioner stopped and various other machinery in the walls with it. The hallway was dead silent, the only lighting being from the emergency exit signs that lit up a very small area with an eerie green glow. He was luckily able to be close to an exit sign, with an arrow pointing forward, further down the hall. He tried moving his neck and found that he was no longer frozen there. The first thing he did was look around for the girl. She stood there no longer, but a circle of ground around where she stood was burnt, like a large wax seal on an old letter. He heard no other footsteps near him, nobody with him to follow or to tag along with to get to safety. Around him, he heard the cold, empty sound of nothing. Complete silence. He felt as if he was in space, walking around in the stars, the green glow from the engine of a nearby starship. As he stood there in the blissful emptiness of the hallway, he heard a skitter of sorts, bringing him down from the empty space euphoria into his world, where the peace had now turned to tension once more. He was more aware of sounds in the dark, listening hard for more skitters or just anything at all. There was nothing again however, so he figured to best course of action for himself was to get the fuck out of here. He began walking slowly toward where the exit sign pointed, continuing to listen for more movement. As he walked, the sounds of his footsteps seemed to amplify and startled him a few times. His feet had been unnaturally large since he was 11. God, scared by my own fucking footsteps, he thought to himself, feeling like a child about his heightened sense of fear. As he continued to walk down the hall, his footsteps seemed to get louder, despite his attempts to walk softer and quieter. Psychosomatic, perhaps? He began to relax and his footsteps grew to a normal level of noise, a calm coming over him. He walked down the hallway further, gathering back his sense of calm. His night vision cabalities are much more heightened then most, granting him the ability to see somewhat, despite the intense darkness that acted as almost a retardant for light. He saw that he wasn’t excruciatingly far from the window, were he saw that it had began to snow, and that if he didn’t leave soon he’d be snowed in. Maybe with the demons that lurk here as well.