Sam cursed as coffee spilled out of the bright blue disposable cup and landed on his hand, burning him. The customer watched him suspiciously as he wrapped a napkin around the cup and handed it to her, thanking her through gritted teeth. As soon as she turned away from the counter, Sam snatched up a second napkin and swabbed it across his hand, wincing slightly. Just another painful burn from working at Caffeinated, he groused.

"Mocha latte," his coworker, Selena, snapped, not even bothering to look at him as she handed a familiar looking customer a receipt. Sam nodded, taking the cup she handed him with the name Marcus scribbled on it in black sharpie. He went about making the drink as Marcus waited by the counter, looking preoccupied. He wasn't scrolled through his phone with earbuds in like normal, which was weird.

"Here you go," Sam said, handing Marcus the cup. Marcus took it, frowning at Sam.

"You seen Jake today?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I haven't. Haven't seen him since...since Monday night, actually."

"I saw him yesterday around noon," Marcus said. "When I came back after class to get a sandwich. Haven't seen him since, and neither has Raj."

"Have you texted him?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow.

"Texted and called," Marcus affirmed. "Nothing. I even called Becky, but she says she hasn't seen him since they got out of their class yesterday afternoon."

"That's weird," Sam said, frowning. "No one's seen him today?"

"He didn't come in last night, and he wasn't at the apartment this morning," Marcus said, taking a sip of his latte. "Raj said we should call the cops if he doesn't turn up by tonight. He's really freaked, and it's starting to get to me."

"I have a class with Jake this afternoon," Sam said, chewing his bottom lip. "Classical myths. I know where he normally sits; I'll keep an eye out for him."

Marcus nodded. "Raj is going to call his parents in the meantime."

"Maybe it's nothing," Sam said, although he felt uneasy. Jake may be lazy and unreliable, but he normally wasn't this hard to reach. And it wasn't like he was a part of a broad social circle – he was either with them, Becky, or occasionally the kids in his music club. "Maybe he's cheating on Becky?"

"I don't know, man," Marcus said, looking worried. "That's just not Jake. Besides, Becky's already way out of his league, and she's a step down from the Goth over there." He jerked his head toward Selena, whose regular appearance of black eyeshadow and lipstick, black pattern T-shirt and ripped jeans, and combat boots certainly gave her the appearance of being Goth, although other customers had referred to her as emo, so Sam wasn't sure which she was. "He'd be an idiot to cheat on her. And he knows it."

"We'll call the cops tonight if he doesn't show up," Sam said. First the letter, now Jake. What's next? Selena turning into a vampire and sucking out all my blood?

Though, after a glance at Selena, Sam reasoned that actually wasn't too far outside the realm of possibility.

"Hey!" Selena called, snapping her fingers at Sam and tapping his sleeve with the large, clear plastic cup. "Strawberry infusion, dork."

Sam took the cup, rolling his eyes at Marcus as he set to making the drink. "See you later, man," Marcus said, taking a sip from his coffee before exiting the shop.

Selena shook her long, wavy blonde hair out of her face and glanced at Sam, widening her ebony-enshrouded eyes at him. "Classical myths? Really, dork?"

"I had to take a lit class!" Sam snapped back. "It's required."

Selena turned completely toward him, tilting her body toward the register, and planted her hand on her hip, lifting an eyebrow at him. "Well, I took Death in Literature for that requirement," she retorted coolly. "You had other options."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Sam muttered.

[----]

Sam walked down the quiet hallway toward his classical mythology classroom, adjusting his backpack hanging from his shoulder. Students in dark blue medical scrubs passed him, coming from the nursing class that had just let out.

Why the school had scheduled a lit class to take place in the nursing building was beyond Sam.

The large auditorium was relatively empty as Sam entered, taking a seat on the end in the third row of the middle section. Flipping up the small table beside his chair and placing his caramel latte down, he rummaged through his backpack for his notebook and marked up copy of the Iliad.

Despite Selena's comments about the class being dorky, Sam actually enjoyed it. It was the one respite in his busy schedule from the required classes for his aerospace engineering major. For once, he got to read books and think about fictional things, instead of trying to wrap his head around differential equations or vector calculus. Sometimes, he wondered why he had majored in engineering in the first place. All he seemed to do was complain about it.

Sam glanced around the auditorium idly. No Jake, but that was typical. Jake never arrived early for class. He tended to come in just as Professor Sinclair was beginning his lecture, taking the first empty seat he saw. Ever since Sam had refused to give him his notes after Jake mooched off of him for the first week of classes, he had had to take his own notes.

At the very least, it meant Jake actually came to class, albeit late.

Sam's phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. Taking a sip of his latte, he flicked the screensaver of his sister's pet snake up and read the text message from Raj.

Jake's parents haven't seen him. He in class?

No. But he's normally late.

Text me when class starts.

K.

Sam set his phone aside and his thoughts turned from Jake to the letter from the GRS. What even was the Grim Reaper Services? Was there a chance it was some sort of prank? Or could it really be real? Would his life be terminated if he didn't show up for his court appearance tomorrow? And how would he be terminated? Poison? Assassins?

But how was he supposed to show up for a court appearance when he had no idea where to go, what time he was supposed to be there? What if it coincided with one of his classes? Sam couldn't afford to miss anything – it was already confusing enough having attended all the classes and office hours. He couldn't imagine the hell he would be in if he missed one.

Why, oh, why, did I choose engineering?

Professor Sinclair entered the auditorium and began to set up in the front of the classroom. Sam flipped through his copy of the Iliad. The story, for being really old, was actually quite interesting, although not entirely accurate to the movie version. Sam was glad that he, unlike Jake, had decided to use the book as his primary source of information for the class, not the film Troy.

Sam glanced around again. Still no Jake.

The minutes ticked past and Sinclair started lecturing, reminding everyone in his British accent of where they had left off on Monday and introducing the section of the poem they'd be discussing today. Sam barely listened as he continued to look around, but he continued to see no sign of Jake.

Surreptitiously, he pulled out his phone and tapped out a message to Raj. No Jake.

Raj responded within a second. This isn't good.

No crap, Sherlock.

Sam turned his attention with difficulty back to the class, dutifully taking notes on the text. But Jake and the GRS lingered in the back of his mind, poking at his attention and trying to distract him.

"Okay, class, we're going to detour from the Iliad a moment and discuss heroes," Sinclair announced. "What can you tell me about Heracles?"

"He was the star of a Disney film?" someone in the back called out, and a titter ran through the classroom. Sinclair frowned in the general direction of the jokester and waited.

But the jokester wasn't done. "Oh, and he needs no introduction, when you knock him down he gets –"

"We get the gist of it, yes," Sinclair interrupted coolly before the guy could finish quoting the Hamilton song referencing Hercules Mulligan. More giggles ran through the classroom as the guy leaned back in his chair. He made comments like that every time he had the opportunity. It was like instead of doing his homework on the questions posted about the chapter, he spent his time researching other references he could connect with the Greek myths. Sam was surprised Sinclair hadn't done anything to him yet by way of punishment.

Sam raised his hand. "Yes?" Sinclair called, pointing at him.

"He's a son of Zeus?" Sam said questioningly. "He was a hero, and performed many feats. Hera hated him."

"Correct," Sinclair affirmed, looking satisfied it hadn't been a joke answer. "Heracles was one of the greatest heroes of ancient Greece. Yet he died before the Trojan War took place. So why am I bringing him up?"

Murmurs rippled around the auditorium as students turned to each other to ask if Heracles had been mentioned at all in the reading for today. Around him, Sam heard the questions and answers – no one remembered a mention of Heracles appearing in the assigned books for today's class.

Sinclair remained silent for a moment, to draw out the suspense, and then he resumed speaking. "You've all been reading about Achilles, one of the main heroes of the Iliad and whose death the entire poem sets up. I've been telling you how heroes don't have happy endings in Greek myth – it almost always ends in death or disaster. Heracles himself died painfully before being elevated to the rank of god, and his life is one of the best examples of what a Greek hero looked like. I want you to think about him in comparison to Achilles. Remember, Hera and Zeus argued over Heracles, as in much the same way they argue over the outcome of the Trojan War."

As the lecture continued, Sam risked another glance behind him. Still no Jake. Turning back around to the front, he listened to Sinclair lecture on about Heracles, and almost jumped out of his chair when he realized something.

Sinclair. Jake had another class with him! His only class on Tuesdays and Thursdays was with Sinclair, who taught Ancient Greek Drama, the class Jake and his girlfriend Becky were taking together. The class Jake had gone missing after.

I'll ask him about Jake. He might know something!

Impatiently, Sam waited for the class to end, having to force himself to take notes on the materials. When Sinclair finally dismissed them with a reminder to do the reading for Friday, Sam threw his notebook, book, and pen into his backpack and stood up so quickly he banged against the small table covering his lap.

Wincing and gritting his teeth, Sam grabbed up his empty latte cup and shoved the table down out of sight before swinging his backpack over his shoulder and hurrying up to the front, where Sinclair was talking with a red-headed student about his recent exam grade.

"Come to office hours if you continue having trouble with the material," Sinclair told the guy, who nodded and hurried to join the mass of students exiting the auditorium. The professor turned toward Sam. "Yes?"

"Hi, I have a weird question," Sam said. "My roommate, Jake Miller, he's in this class and he's also in your Ancient Greek Drama class? Anyway, we haven't seen him since yesterday and the last sighting we've had is leaving your class. I was just wondering if you noticed anything. I'm sorry, we're just really worried and we're on the edge of reporting him as missing."

Sinclair frowned, looking concerned. "Jake Miller. He's the one who's taking the class with his girlfriend? Yes, I did see him yesterday in my class. He wanted to discuss the midterm paper with me and I advised him to come to office hours to do so, since I had another class directly after. He agreed but never showed. I wasn't concerned at the time – I supposed he had merely forgotten. But missing? Oh, dear."

Sam sighed. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just thought that since he'd been in your class, maybe...oh, I don't know."

"That's perfectly all right," Sinclair said. "It's normal to be worried....what is your name?"

"Sam," Sam said. "Sam Walker."

"Sam Walker," Sinclair repeated. "Nice to officially meet you, Sam."

Sam nodded. "Thank you, anyway."

He moved away from Sinclair as the student who had been waiting behind Sam began to speak energetically about "how surprised she had been to find out Heracles had been considered a hero by the Greeks after killing his own family." He rolled his eyes. It was that girl, Cecily, who thought that just because Sinclair had recently gotten his doctorate and was a young, relatively good looking guy, that he was available.

As he headed toward the exit, Sam pulled out his phone and called Raj. The phone only rang once before Raj picked up. "Sam?"

"No Jake," Sam confirmed grimly. "I even asked the myth professor if he'd seen him. Sinclair teaches Jake and Becky's lit class, too, but he said he's seen nothing of Jake since he left class."

Raj sighed. "This isn't good, this isn't good. Okay. I'll call the hospitals and ask if they admitted anyone matching Jake's description. I need you to go down to the student union and check Jake's club."

"Jake's club?" Sam repeated. "What for?"

"Jake's in that emo club or something," Raj said. "They meet somewhere in the student union on Tuesdays. Becky doesn't go, but maybe Jake went that night? You might be able to find someone you can call to find out."

"Okay, I'll go," Sam said, frowning as he pulled open the door to the stairwell and began to climb the spiraling stairs. Immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt uncomfortably like someone was watching him. But a glance over his shoulder revealed nothing but shadows, playing off the walls of the cylindrical stairwell. "Ever considered that maybe Jake is okay?"

"I have," Raj asserted. "But to be this detached from us, from Becky? Not likely."

"I saw Marcus this morning when he came into the shop. He was a little rattled by all this, said you were very worried. What's got you on edge, Raj?"

Raj was silent for a moment. "It's this research project I'm working on. It's...well."

Sam furrowed his brow. "I thought you were researching ULD's founding."

"I am," Raj confirmed, sounding uneasy. "But...look, it's just giving me the creeps. I'm calling the cops, but if you can get a lead from the club, it'll help."

"I'm heading there now," Sam promised.

As he hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket, Sam left the nursing building behind and began the short trek across campus to the student union building for ULD, or the University of Liberty or Death, named after Patrick Henry's famous quote and the town that surrounded it, Liberty. Now he just had to find Jake's emo club and track down someone from it to answer his questions about last night's meeting.

I have statics homework, and differential equations to figure out, and here I am, acting as some damn investigator instead of just letting the cops do their job.

Not to mention I have some court appearance with the GRS tomorrow or they'll kill me.

What a great week. Who wouldn't want to be me right now?

[----]

The student union was an L-shaped, three story building painted blue and black, the school colors. Sam pushed through one of the doors into the building and took the stairs leading into the basement, shifting his backpack on his shoulders. Raj had texted him that, according to Becky, Jake's club met in the basement. She had also confirmed Professor Sinclair's story of Jake's intention to go to office hours.

So he vanished somewhere between 2:40 and 4:00.

What time does the club meet? Sam texted Raj.

7.

Sam left the concrete steps, still unable to shake the feeling someone was following him. His wasn't the only moving, human-shaped shadow on the walls, but whenever he turned, there was no one there, no movement, no noise to indicate a follower. The shadow remained, but there was no owner of the shadow.

Shudders running down his spine, Sam increased his pace down the hall, glancing around for some sign of an emo presence. He wasn't sure what he was looking for – posters, emo music playing?

Does Becky know exactly where in the basement the club meets?

No. Just somewhere down there.

Sam rounded a bend in the hall, the air dropping in temperature at least ten degrees. He shivered, glancing over his shoulder apprehensively. This would be a perfect place for that shadow to attack him, where there was no one around to help him.

Stop it, he chided himself. Shadows can't attack people.

The hallway ended up ahead, the door leading into the room beyond cracked open. An old concert poster for My Chemical Romance hung lopsided on the door, the top curling down until it reached the tip of the skeleton soldier's feather. Above the poster was the painted image of a bat, wings spread wide, like the Batman symbol, but a little more realistic and gruesome. Low music drifted from the room. He'd found the right place.

Pushing open the door, Sam tensed. "I'm not okay," drifted to his ears from the song quietly playing as he glanced into the room and froze, horrified.

Standing in the corner, staring down at the mangled body of Jake, was Selena.