𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄. empire now

THE RESTROOM WAS A TOMB, HEAVY WITH the stench of decay and despair. The ground, once tiled and clean, was now a grotesque mosaic of dirt and blood, smeared across the once-pristine white squares like a macabre work of art. Each step threatened to pull them down into the filth, a mix of coagulated blood, grime, and the slickness of what they could only guess was vomit. The air hung thick with the reek of fecal matter, so strong it clung to their throats, forcing them to breathe through their mouths. Even that brought little relief; the taste of rot was pervasive, bitter, and relentless.

The sinks were now just as ruined as the rest of the room. Cracked porcelain, smeared with a grimy residue, barely functioned anymore. The taps groaned with rust when twisted, producing only dribbles of murky water that reeked of iron and mildew.

The mirrors above them were shattered, leaving behind jagged shards clinging to the frames, reflecting distorted images of their haunted faces. It had been weeks since any of them had seen themselves properly, not that they would want to in this state.

Wendy, Enzo, and Jade had huddled together in one of the stalls for what felt like an eternity, the cold metal of the partition pressing against their backs, grounding them in this horrific reality. Time had become meaningless, lost in the oppressive silence and the distant, sporadic growls of the geeks roaming the hallways.

Jade's grip on Wendy was iron-clad, fingers digging into her skin as if letting go would mean being swallowed whole by the darkness around them.

But Jade couldn't stay still any longer. The terror that had paralyzed her for so long began to morph into something else — an anger, a need to move, to fight, to survive.

With a sudden burst of energy, she freed herself from Wendy, the movement so abrupt that it left her breathless. She scrambled back, her hands slipping in the filth beneath her as she struggled to stand, her breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Her uniform clung to her body, damp from the moisture that clung to every surface, heavy with the blood of someone — maybe a friend, maybe a stranger — she couldn't remember anymore.

It was all the same now.

It had been two months since the outbreak, since the world as they knew it had crumbled into chaos. The group that had once been seven strong was now down to three.

Seven faces that had been familiar, full of life and hope, now reduced to memories that haunted them with every quiet moment.

They had been surviving on the snacks from the vending machines outside the restroom door — two metallic beacons of hope in the otherwise desolate school. For weeks, they had rationed bags of chips, candy bars, and soda cans, the taste of preservatives and sugar their only source of energy. But a few days ago, the last of it had been eaten, leaving them with nothing but the gnawing hunger that twisted their stomachs.

Too many geeks roamed the hallways now, their grotesque forms shuffling aimlessly, their vacant eyes searching for anything living. The school had become a labyrinth of death, with no safe passage to the outside world.

Wendy could hear them sometimes, their shuffling footsteps just beyond the door, the occasional groan or snarl that sent shivers down her spine.

Jade's breath slowed as she gathered herself, her muscles coiled with the adrenaline that still surged through her veins. Her mind raced with the possibilities, none of them good, but all better than sitting here waiting to die. She glanced back at Wendy and Enzo, their eyes hollow with exhaustion, fear etched into every line of their faces. This was no longer the place they knew; it was a prison, and the only way out was through the swarm of death outside.

She had to get out. They had to get out.

Jade's hands trembled as she tried to steady herself, the cold from the tiled floor seeping through her skin, amplifying the chill already coursing through her veins. Her breaths came out ragged, the adrenaline that had fueled her moment of defiance now ebbing away, leaving her with the crushing weight of reality.

They were trapped, starving, and terrified, and the small flicker of hope she had tried to stoke with her sudden movement was already fading. But she couldn't let it die, not yet.

"We need to leave," she whispered, her voice cracking under the strain. It barely broke the silence that had settled between them, the words hanging in the putrid air like a fragile thread of desperation. Jade forced herself to continue, despite the fear constricting her chest. "We need to find food, somewhere, somehow. Either we go outside and try to scavenge, or we risk it and head further into the school. Maybe the geeks haven't overrun the upper floors yet..."

Her words trailed off, and she looked at them, searching their faces for any sign of agreement, any glimmer of the will to survive. But they were motionless, their eyes fixed on the floor or the cracked walls, lost in their own private hells.

Enzo was slumped against the wall, his once-athletic frame now gaunt and hollow, a shadow of the person he used to be. His eyes, sunken and lifeless, were half-closed, as if he was trying to escape into sleep, the only refuge left to him.

Wendy sat beside him, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them in a protective cocoon. Her dark hair, matted with sweat and grime, hung limply over her face, obscuring her expression. But Jade knew — she had seen it before. The emptiness, the resignation that had taken root in Wendy's eyes. It had started two weeks after the outbreak when the initial shock had worn off and the reality of their situation had settled in.

Wendy had been the first to give up, the first to be consumed by the despair that now threatened to engulf them all.

At first, Wendy had been their leader, the one who held them together when everything else fell apart. She had been the one to venture out of the restroom when the rest of them were too scared to move, braving the dark hallways to retrieve whatever food she could find. It was Wendy who had cracked open the vending machines, her knuckles bloodied from the effort, and brought back armfuls of snacks, keeping them alive while the world outside descended into chaos.

Every time she returned, she would describe the growing number of geeks, the way they swarmed the halls in greater numbers each day, the way the school — once a place of safety and routine — had become a labyrinth of death.

But it was also Wendy who had seen the worst of it, who had seen what the geeks had done to their classmates, their teachers, everyone they had known. She had seen the bodies, torn apart, blood soaking the linoleum floors, and the vacant, dead eyes of the people she had once passed in the hallways every day.

And with each trip she made, she came back quieter, more withdrawn, the spark in her eyes dimming until it was almost gone.

Now, that spark was all but extinguished. Wendy didn't look at Jade, didn't even acknowledge her words. She had given up.

They had all been surviving off the tap water from the sinks, which they didn't even know was still safe, but it had kept them alive — barely.

"We can't stay here," Jade said again, louder this time, trying to will them into action, to shake them out of their stupor. But her voice was met with silence, the only sound the distant shuffle of feet from somewhere beyond the restroom door.

"We're going to die in here if we don't do something," she added, the words coming out harsher than she intended. Her voice wavered, betraying the fear she was trying so hard to push down.

She wanted to scream at them, to shake them, to make them understand that they couldn't just sit here and wait for the inevitable. But all she could do was watch as Enzo's eyes slowly closed, his breathing shallow and slow. Wendy's grip on her knees tightened, her knuckles white, but she still didn't move, didn't respond.

Jade's heart pounded in her chest, panic rising as she realized that she was truly alone in this. They had all been so close once, bound together by the shared horror of the outbreak, but now it felt like they were drifting apart, slipping away from each other into their own personal abysses. Jade bit her lip, the taste of blood filling her mouth as she fought back tears. She couldn't let them give up. She couldn't let them die here.

"I'm going," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but firm with resolve. She didn't know if they heard her, if they even cared, but it didn't matter anymore. She couldn't stay here and wait for death to claim them all. She had to do something, anything, to keep moving, to keep surviving.

A hard body crashed into Wendy, knocking her breathless. The force of the impact sent her sprawling back against the cold, blood-streaked floor, the air rushing out of her lungs in a painful gasp. For a moment, she was too stunned to react, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. But as she blinked through the haze of shock, her eyes focused on the figure standing over her, and realization dawned.

Jade.

Jade, who had been trembling with fear just moments ago, now stood with an expression that was almost defiant. Her chest heaved with exertion, her fists clenched at her sides as she stared down at Wendy, her eyes wide with a mix of desperation and determination.

It was unlike anything Wendy had ever seen from her before — Jade, who had always been so quiet, so reluctant to speak up, was now the one challenging her.

For a moment, Wendy just stared, too shocked to speak. But then, something inside her snapped. All the fear, all the exhaustion, all the grief that had been festering in her for weeks came pouring out, and she pushed herself up from the floor, forcing herself to look Jade in the eyes.

"You're going to die out there if you leave." Wendy's voice was rough, raw from disuse, but it cut through the air like a knife.

Her words were harsh, cold, and they hung between them like a heavy weight. But it was the truth, the brutal reality they had been living in since the outbreak began. Wendy had seen what was out there, had faced it time and time again, and she knew what awaited anyone foolish enough to believe there was a way out.

Jade recoiled slightly, as if struck by the force of Wendy's words, but she didn't back down. Instead, she squared her shoulders, her lips pressing into a thin line. "We're going to die if we don't do something."

"So we die either way," Wendy shot back, her voice rising in frustration. She hated how cynical she sounded, hated the person she had become, but there was no room for sugarcoating things anymore. Not here. Not now. "This isn't some game where you get to be the hero and save the day. This is life or death. Out there, it's only death."

Jade flinched, but she didn't break eye contact. Wendy could see the fear in her eyes, could see that Jade knew she was right, but was fighting it with everything she had. It was that stubborn streak that Wendy had always admired in her, but now it only made her more angry, more desperate to make Jade understand.

"You don't know what it's like," Wendy continued, her voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper. "You've never had to face them. You think the blood on your clothes makes you strong? That blood isn't even yours. It's from holding on to our dead friends, trying to keep them alive until their last breath. But you didn't kill them, Jade. I did."

Jade's eyes widened, and for a moment, Wendy saw the resolve in her falter. The truth was painful, and Wendy could see the weight of it pressing down on Jade's shoulders. But it was a reality she had to face.

"The blood on my clothes is from those things outside," Wendy said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "Those geeks that used to be people. I've killed them. I've had to bash their heads in with whatever I could find because it was them or me. I've seen what they can do, and it's not something you can just run from."

Wendy could feel her own eyes burning, the tears threatening to spill over as she spoke. She had tried to be strong for them, had tried to be the one to keep them safe, but every day it felt like she was losing that battle. Every death, every loss, had chipped away at her resolve until there was almost nothing left.

"They're not just walking corpses," Wendy said, her voice barely above a whisper. "They're relentless. They don't stop, they don't tire, and they're everywhere. You'll get tired, you'll make a mistake, and then it's over. And it won't be quick. It'll be slow and painful, and you'll wish you had stayed in here."

Jade's hands were shaking again, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to process Wendy's words. The determination in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a growing fear, but there was still a spark of stubbornness there. "We can't just give up. We have to try."

Wendy shook her head, her expression hardening. "You think I haven't tried? You think I haven't looked into going up? I was the one who went out there, every time. I was the one who saw what happened to the others. And I'm telling you, there's nothing out there for us anymore. We're all that's left, and if we go, we'll be nothing but another body for the geeks to tear apart."

Jade's resolve finally broke, and she sank to her knees, her head bowed as tears streamed down her face. Wendy could see the exhaustion in her, the way the fight had been slowly draining out of her just as it had out of all of them. But this was the truth they had to live with, the reality that had crushed them all.

"We're already dead," Wendy said softly, her voice laced with a sadness that had been festering in her heart for weeks. "The only difference is how long we can hold on before the end comes."

Jade didn't respond. She couldn't. The weight of Wendy's words had finally broken through the wall of denial she had been clinging to, and now all that was left was the harsh, bitter truth. There was no escape, no hope, no way out. All they had was this small, filthy room and the dwindling time that remained.

Wendy knelt beside her, placing a trembling hand on Jade's shoulder. It was the first time she had touched anyone in days, and the connection felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. "I'm sorry," Wendy whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "But this is all we have now."

Jade nodded, her body wracked with silent sobs as she finally let go of the hope she had been clinging to. Wendy didn't know what else to say, didn't know how to make this any easier.

Wendy's thoughts drifted away from the stifling reality of the bathroom and back to Glenn, the one person she wished more than anything could be here now.

The thought of him had been her anchor in this sea of despair, a small flame of warmth that she clung to in the darkness. She wondered if he had survived this long, if he was out there somewhere, fighting to stay alive just as she was.

Was he looking for her? Was he scouring the city, the countryside, the ruins of their world, trying to find her, to bring her back to safety?

She allowed herself to sink into the memories of him, the ones that had been playing in the back of her mind like an old, familiar song since the outbreak began.

She could see him so clearly in her mind, that lopsided grin he'd flash when he walked through the door with a pizza box in hand. He'd always bring back the cold ones, the orders that people called in and then never showed up for, the boxes sitting lonely on the warming racks until Glenn's shift ended. He'd drop the box on the table with a triumphant flourish, like he'd just returned from a successful hunt, and they'd dig in together, sitting on the floor of their house, laughing at nothing and everything.

She thought of the times when Glenn had been the only one to show up at her archery competitions, standing at the edge of the field, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched her with a quiet pride. She could still remember how he'd clap, louder than anyone else, when she hit a bullseye, how he'd give her a small, crooked smile when she came in second or third, and how he never let her feel like a failure, even when she didn't place at all. He was always there, the one constant in her life, the person she could rely on when everything else fell apart.

And she thought of the nights they spent together, when Glenn would show up at the door with red-rimmed eyes and a broken heart, some girl or another having crushed his spirit once again. He'd sit on her couch, hunched over with his head in his hands, while Wendy made them both tea. She'd sit beside him, listening as he poured out his heart, and when the words ran dry, she'd wrap her arms around him, holding him until the worst of the pain passed. They'd stay like that for hours sometimes, saying nothing, just finding comfort in each other's presence.

It was those memories that kept her going, that gave her the strength to face each day in this nightmare world.

The thought of Glenn's smile, his laugh, the way he always knew how to make her feel better, even when everything was going wrong. She held on to the hope that somehow, someway, they'd find each other again, that they'd be able to go back to those simpler times, sitting on the floor with a cold pizza between them, laughing at nothing.

But then reality came crashing back in, and Wendy's heart ached with the weight of it. Glenn was out there, somewhere, but she was here, trapped in this filthy bathroom with Jade and Enzo, their lives hanging by a thread.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes drifting to Enzo, who was sitting slumped against the wall, looking like a ghost of his former self.

He looked awful. The once-vibrant young man was now a shell, his skin pale and drawn, his eyes hollowed out by hunger and exhaustion. Wendy felt a pang of guilt as she took in the sight of him.

Out of the three of them, Enzo had eaten the least.

Whenever they had something to split — a meager snack, a few crumbs from the bottom of a chip bag — he'd insist on giving Wendy the biggest piece. "You need it the most," he'd say, his voice firm, almost commanding. "You're the strongest."

Wendy knew that wasn't true, not really. Maybe she had been the strongest once, when this all started, when she was the one leading them, making the tough decisions, risking her life to keep them alive. But now, she felt as fragile as glass, one wrong move away from shattering completely.

Still, Enzo insisted, and she had learned not to argue with him. He was stubborn, just like Jade, but in a quieter way, one that wore you down until you gave in.

"And Jade," he'd say, with a small, almost apologetic smile, "Jade needs it too, because she's the weakest." He never meant it as an insult, just a statement of fact, as if he was discussing the weather. But Wendy could see the hurt in Jade's eyes every time he said it, even though she never protested.

Jade was weaker, physically at least, and they all knew it. But it wasn't just about strength; it was about survival, and he was determined to give them every advantage, even if it meant sacrificing his own health.

Wendy watched him now, his head resting against the wall, his eyes half-closed. He looked like he was on the verge of slipping away, his body too tired, too depleted to keep going. And yet, whenever they split something, he always took the smallest portion for himself. "I'm fine," he'd say, waving off their concerns with a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about me." But Wendy knew better.

She saw how his hands trembled when he thought no one was looking, how his movements had become sluggish, his responses delayed. He was wasting away, slowly but surely, and it tore at Wendy's heart to see it.

She wanted to shake him, to force him to eat more, to take care of himself for once. But she knew it was no use. He had made up his mind, and nothing she said would change it.

He had decided that Wendy was the one who needed to survive, that Jade was the one who needed to be protected, and that his own life was worth less than theirs.

It was a twisted kind of nobility, born out of desperation and love, but it was also a death sentence.

The sight of Enzo's deterioration filled her with a deep sense of dread. He was slipping away, and she knew that if he continued down this path, they would lose him too. Wendy couldn't allow that to happen — not because of any special bond between them, but because she knew they needed each other to survive.

If Enzo didn't make it, if he wasted away in that dingy bathroom, it would be another loss that Wendy wasn't sure she could bear.

Wendy's gaze moved between him and Jade, lingering on their worn faces and fragile bodies. The sight of them, so thin and pale, so different from who they used to be, pierced her heart in a way she hadn't let herself feel in weeks.

For the first time, Wendy truly heard Jade's words. The desperate plea to leave the bathroom, to venture out into the unknown, was no longer just noise in the background.

Maybe it was time.

Maybe staying here, in this filth-ridden, claustrophobic tomb, was killing them faster than the geeks outside ever could. The safety of the bathroom was a mirage; they were only safe from the immediate threat, but the slow death from hunger, despair, and inaction was just as real, just as dangerous.

Taking a deep breath, Wendy pushed herself up from the cold, damp floor. Her legs protested, stiff from days of inactivity, but she forced them to hold her weight. She was the leader. She had to be the one to make the hard decisions, to guide them through this hell. For too long, she had been paralyzed by fear, by the responsibility of keeping them alive. But now, as she looked at Enzo and Jade, she realized that staying here, in this stinking pit of rot and decay, was no longer an option.

She turned to face them, her voice steady but carrying the weight of what they had lost. "Fine," she said, her tone hard, cutting through the suffocating air. "We'll go up. But listen to me, both of you. This isn't going to be easy. If we're leaving this bathroom, if we're going to try and take back the school, then you two need to understand what that means."

She paused, letting her words sink in, her eyes meeting theirs with a fierce intensity. "We're not just going to walk out of here and find a safe place to hide. Out there, it's survival of the fittest. If you're not ready to fight, if you're not ready to do whatever it takes, then you might as well stay here and wait to die. Because that's the reality now. That's what we're up against."

Wendy could see the fear in their eyes, the hesitation, but she didn't let up. "We've been lucky so far, hiding out here, avoiding them. But luck runs out. And when it does, you have to be ready. You have to be willing to put in the work, to get your hands dirty. I'm not talking about just defending yourselves. I'm talking about fighting. About killing those things before they kill us. Because that's what it's going to take."

Wendy's eyes bored into them, unflinching, as she delivered the harsh truth. "There's no more hiding. No more waiting for things to get better. They're not going to. This is it. This is our life now. And if we're going to live it, if we're going to take back this school, then you need to stop being scared. Stop hesitating. You need to toughen up, because the world out there doesn't care about how tired or scared you are. It'll chew you up and spit you out if you let it."

She took a step back, giving them space but not letting up the intensity of her gaze. "So make your choice now. We go up, or we stay here and wait to die. But if we're going up, then you have to promise me that you'll fight. That you'll do what needs to be done. Because I can't do this alone. And I won't carry you through this. You have to carry your own weight."

Wendy's words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, as she waited for their response. This was their moment, their chance to step up or fall behind. And Wendy was done waiting. If they were going to survive, they had to do it together, as equals, each of them pulling their own weight in this brutal new world.

The decision made, the three of them moved with a grim determination, the weight of their choice settling heavily on their shoulders. Wendy, Enzo, and Jade knew that this might be the last time they saw the inside of the bathroom that had been both their prison and their sanctuary. There was no room for sentimentality now, only the cold, practical reality of survival.

JADE, WITH A NEWFOUND resolve, knelt by the broken stall door she had been working on. Over the past few days, she had quietly chipped away at it, fashioning a crude but effective weapon. The spear was long, the jagged end sharpened to a deadly point, its surface rough from the splinters she had carefully carved away. She had wrapped the base of the spear with strips of her uniform, the fabric twisted tightly to provide a better grip, and secured it with the last bit of duct tape she could scavenge.

Enzo and Wendy, meanwhile, worked on their own weapons. The bows had been with them since the beginning, salvaged from the school's archery club. Wendy's bow, once a sleek and polished instrument, now bore the marks of wear and battle, its metal scratched and dulled, the string frayed but still taut. Enzo's bow, though less used, had a similar appearance, the once-pristine surface now showing signs of age and use. They carefully checked the strings, ensuring they were still strong enough to draw, their fingers working with an efficiency born of necessity.

The arrows, too, were a precious resource, each one accounted for and carefully preserved. The arrowheads had been sharpened again and again, the metal gleaming dully in the dim light of the restroom. Wendy and Enzo each carried a quiver, the remaining arrows tucked inside, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. They knew they couldn't afford to waste a single shot.

Once their weapons were ready, they turned their attention to the shields. The bathroom stalls had been a source of frustration and safety, their doors now repurposed for survival. Enzo took one of the stall doors and began to shape it, his hands steady as he broke off pieces to form a rough shield. He wasn't a craftsman, but he knew how to make something work with what he had. The wood was thick, sturdy enough to withstand a blow, and he reinforced it with strips of metal he had torn from the bathroom's crumbling fixtures. Duct tape held the makeshift shield together, the layers wrapping around the wood in tight coils.

Wendy followed suit, her shield taking shape under her practiced hands. She worked quickly, efficiently, tearing away the pieces that wouldn't hold and securing the parts that would. Her shield was smaller than Enzo's, but it was lighter, easier for her to maneuver with her bow in hand. She could already feel the weight of it on her arm, testing its balance as she strapped it to her forearm with makeshift bindings of duct tape and cloth.

With their shields ready, they turned to the last bit of preparation: protecting themselves from the inevitable. The geeks' bite was a death sentence, and they had seen too many of their friends succumb to it. Wendy took the lead, grabbing what was left of their duct tape and ripping strips of cloth from their already tattered uniforms. She wrapped her arms first, winding the fabric around her forearms like a bandage, layering it thickly before securing it with the tape. The tape was old, the adhesive barely holding, but it was all they had. She worked methodically, her movements quick but careful, knowing that this thin layer could be the difference between life and death.

Enzo and Jade followed suit, their hands working with the same focused intensity. Jade's hands trembled slightly as she wrapped her arms, her breath coming in shallow gasps, but she didn't stop. He moved slower, his exhaustion evident in the way his hands fumbled with the tape, but he forced himself to continue, tightening the layers around his arms until he was satisfied.

The bathroom was silent except for the rustling of cloth and the occasional tear of duct tape. There was no need for words; they knew what had to be done. Each of them carried the knowledge that this might be their last stand, but they didn't let it show. Instead, they focused on the task at hand, their minds set on the grim reality that awaited them beyond the door.

When they finally stood, their preparations complete, the three of them looked at one another, their faces drawn but determined. Wendy adjusted the strap of her quiver, the familiar weight of it settling against her back. Enzo hefted his shield, testing its balance, his bow held loosely in his other hand. Jade gripped her spear, her knuckles white as she prepared herself for what was to come.

They moved into position, forming a tight triangle with their backs to one another, their bodies tense but controlled. Wendy took the lead, her bow in one hand, the other hovering near the door handle. Enzo and Jade flanked her on either side, their makeshift shields raised, weapons at the ready. They exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them — a nod from each, a brief moment of shared resolve.

Wendy's hand gripped the door handle, her fingers steady despite the tightness in her chest. She drew in a slow breath, feeling the weight of the moment press down on her shoulders. Her mind flickered to the countless times she had opened this door before, the desperate rush to the vending machines, the frantic dash back into the bathroom.

But this time was different.

There was no quick escape, no chance to evade the geeks with sheer speed.

They had to be slow, deliberate, and every step they took would be a step deeper into danger.

She began to push the door open, the hinges creaking slightly under the pressure. The sound seemed deafening in the stillness of the bathroom, but it wasn't loud enough to draw attention. Not yet.

Wendy held her breath as the door swung open just enough for her to peer into the hallway beyond. She paused, listening intently, her senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The hallway was silent, the kind of silence that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. But it wasn't the silence of safety. It was the silence of waiting, of death lurking just out of sight.

Wendy pushed the door open wider, just enough for them to slip through. She stepped forward, her eyes scanning the darkened corridor ahead. The hallways were shrouded in shadow, the only light filtering in from the occasional flicker of a fluorescent bulb that struggled to stay on. The streetlights outside cast long, eerie beams through the cracked windows, creating pockets of light that were more unsettling than comforting. It was like stepping into a scene from a horror movie, the kind where every shadow could be hiding something that wanted to tear you apart.

The smell hit them immediately, a rancid stench that had become all too familiar over the past two months. It was a grotesque mix of decay and rot, the lingering scent of death that clung to every surface. It had once made their stomachs turn, their bodies recoil, but now it was just another part of the world they lived in, something they had learned to endure. Wendy breathed shallowly, trying to keep the smell at bay, but it was impossible to escape it completely.

They moved as one, their formation tight, every step calculated and cautious. Wendy led the way, her bow drawn, the arrow nocked and ready to fly at the first sign of movement. Enzo and Jade kept their shields up, their makeshift armor a flimsy barrier against the horrors that might lie ahead. Their feet shuffled against the grimy floor, the sound muted by the thick layer of dirt and dried blood that coated the tiles. Every step was a reminder of the lives that had been lost here, the blood of their friends and classmates mingling with the filth of the undead.

The hallway stretched out before them, long and foreboding, the darkness seeming to pulse with hidden dangers. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional flicker of the faulty lights, casting brief flashes of harsh, sterile light over the scene. Shadows danced along the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were alive, taunting the three survivors as they pressed forward.

Wendy's eyes darted from shadow to shadow, her senses attuned to every detail. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the task at hand. They had a plan: kill any geeks they encountered, move slowly, methodically, and make their way to the upper floors. There was no room for error, no second chances. They were in this now, and there was no turning back.

As they advanced, the air grew thicker, more oppressive, as if the very walls were closing in on them. The smell intensified, becoming almost suffocating in the close confines of the hallway. But they kept moving, their eyes scanning every shadow, every corner, expecting at any moment to see the dead rise from the darkness.

The floor beneath them was slick, coated with layers of grime that had accumulated over weeks of neglect. Wendy's boots made a faint squelching sound with each step. She could feel the weight of the duct tape and fabric wrapped around her arms, a makeshift barrier against the bites that had claimed so many. It was a thin protection, but it was all they had.

As they moved deeper into the hallway, the reality of their situation pressed in on them. The school was no longer a place of learning, no longer a refuge. It was a graveyard, a tomb where the dead outnumbered the living. The very air was heavy with death, the walls stained with the evidence of the horrors that had unfolded here. The lockers, once filled with books and belongings, were now silent sentinels, their doors hanging open like gaping mouths, revealing the emptiness within.

So far, they had managed to avoid detection. They had seen the geeks, their rotting bodies swaying in the distance, their dead eyes glazed over, unaware of the living still treading carefully within the walls of the school.

Wendy guided them with practiced ease, her movements slow and deliberate. She knew that any sudden noise, any disruption in the oppressive silence, could bring disaster. Her mind raced with every step, calculating the distance between them and the next corner, the nearest door, the quickest route to the stairwell. It was a delicate dance of life and death, one misstep, one wrong move, and everything could fall apart.

They had almost reached the end of the hallway, the stairwell within sight, when it happened.

Jade, her focus split between following Wendy and keeping her eyes on the shadows around them, took a step too far to the right. Her shoulder brushed against a locker door that had been left slightly ajar, the metal scraping against the grime-covered floor. The sound was sharp, slicing through the silence like a knife.

But it was what followed that froze Wendy's blood in her veins.

A clatter, loud and jarring, echoed through the hallway as something metallic toppled from the top of the locker and crashed to the floor. It was the sound of impact, a noise that reverberated off the walls, amplified by the hollow emptiness of the school. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stop. Wendy's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her ears as the reality of what had just happened sank in.

Jade froze, her eyes wide with horror as she realized what she had done. The object — a rusted metal pipe — rolled along the floor, the sound of it scraping against the tile painfully loud in the deathly quiet.

Wendy's hand tightened on her bow, her muscles tensing as she turned to look at Jade, then at Enzo. For a split second, they were all paralyzed, the weight of their mistake pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket.

And then they heard it — the low, guttural groan of a geek stirring in the distance, followed by the shuffle of feet. The sound was unmistakable, the telltale sign that the dead had heard the noise, that they were now aware of the living intruders in their midst. Wendy's heart skipped a beat, the icy fingers of fear clawing at her insides. She exchanged a glance with Enzo, and in that brief moment, they both understood the gravity of their situation.

There was no time to think, no time to plan. The groans grew louder, the shuffling footsteps closer, echoing through the corridor as more and more geeks began to stir. Wendy's breath quickened, her mind racing as she struggled to decide their next move.

They couldn't stay here, they couldn't retreat to the bathroom — they had no choice but to move forward, to fight their way through whatever lay ahead.

Wendy raised her bow, her fingers trembling slightly as she nocked an arrow. She could feel Enzo and Jade at her back, their presence a small comfort in the rising tide of panic. The hallway was no longer silent; it was filled with the sickening sounds of the undead rousing from their restless slumber.

The geeks were coming, drawn by the noise, and they would not stop until they had feasted on the flesh of the living.

The first geek rounded the corner, its eyes dead and hollow, its skin peeling away in sickening sheets. It let out a low moan as it stumbled towards them, its arms outstretched, its mouth gaping open in a grotesque parody of hunger. Wendy didn't hesitate. She drew the bowstring back and released, the arrow slicing through the air with deadly precision. It struck the geek square in the forehead, the force of the impact sending it crashing to the floor in a heap of decaying flesh.

But there were more coming. Wendy could see their silhouettes in the flickering light, their shambling forms emerging from the shadows, their numbers growing with each passing second. She took another arrow, her hands moving with practiced speed, and fired again. Another geek fell, but for every one she took down, two more seemed to take its place.

Enzo and Jade had no choice but to engage. Jade thrust her makeshift spear into the nearest geek's chest, the jagged tip piercing through rotting flesh and bone. The geek let out a wet, gurgling sound as it collapsed, its body twitching as it hit the ground. Enzo swung his shield with all his might, the edge connecting with a geek's head, caving in the skull with a sickening crunch. Blood and brain matter splattered across the floor, the stench overwhelming, but they couldn't afford to think about it.

The hallway was quickly becoming a battlefield, the once-empty corridor now teeming with the undead. Wendy's arms burned with the effort of drawing and releasing, drawing and releasing, each shot precise and lethal. But the geeks kept coming, their numbers seeming endless, a tide of death that threatened to overwhelm them.

Jade fought with a ferocity that surprised even herself, her spear a blur as she stabbed and slashed at the geeks that pressed in on her. Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her veins as she fought to keep them at bay. Every breath was a struggle, every movement a battle against the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her. She could feel the weight of the geeks pressing in on her, their decaying hands grasping at her clothes, their rotten fingers clawing at her skin. She shoved them back with the butt of her spear, the wood splintering under the force of her blows.

Enzo was a whirlwind of motion, his shield a deadly weapon in its own right. He bashed and bludgeoned, each strike sending a geek sprawling to the ground. But he was tiring, his movements slowing, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could feel the strain in his muscles, the burn in his lungs, but he pushed through it, knowing that to stop would mean death.

Wendy's arms ached, her fingers numb from the constant pull of the bowstring. She was down to her last few arrows, each one more precious than the last. She took careful aim, her breaths steady and controlled, and released. The arrow found its mark, but as she reached for another, she realized with a cold jolt that she was out.

Her quiver was empty.

Panic surged through her, but she didn't let it show. She slung her bow over her shoulder and grabbed her shield, the wood heavy in her hands. She swung it with all her strength, smashing it into the face of the nearest geek. The impact jarred her arm, sending a shockwave of pain up to her shoulder, but she didn't stop.

The geeks were closing in, their numbers overwhelming, their dead eyes fixed on the three living souls who dared to defy them. Wendy could feel the walls closing in, the air thick with the stench of death, the sound of the geeks' moans filling her ears. They were surrounded, trapped, but she refused to give in to despair.

She glanced at Enzo and Jade, saw the exhaustion etched into their faces, the desperation in their eyes. But she also saw something else — a fierce determination, a refusal to give up, to let the geeks win. They had come too far, fought too hard to let it end here.

With a primal scream, Wendy pushed forward, her shield raised, her body braced for the impact. She slammed into the nearest geek, knocking it to the ground, and kept moving. Enzo and Jade followed, their weapons swinging, their bodies moving with a desperate, animalistic energy. They carved a path through the horde, their movements synchronized, each one covering the other, their backs still to each other.

The geeks were relentless, their rotting hands grasping at their clothes, their teeth snapping inches from their skin. But they pressed on, their focus narrowing to the simple act of survival. There was no room for fear, no room for hesitation.

It was kill or be killed, and they had chosen to live.

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the exit a distant dream. The geeks were everywhere, their numbers unending, their bodies piling up on the floor. Wendy's arms were leaden, her breath ragged, but she kept going, her shield a battering ram against the tide of death.

The hallway was a cacophony of moans, shuffling feet, and the sickening crunch of bone and flesh as Wendy, Enzo, and Jade fought their way forward.

They ran, the oppressive darkness of the hallway pressing in on them, the flickering fluorescent lights casting grotesque shadows that twisted and writhed on the walls.

Jade was in the rear, her makeshift spear clutched tightly in her hands, her body slick with sweat and blood. Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline surging through her veins as she fought to keep the geeks at bay. One lunged at her, its rotting fingers clawing at her arm, but she was faster. She drove the spear into its skull with a sickening squelch, the force of the blow knocking the geek to the ground. But there was no time to relish the victory — more were coming, their guttural moans echoing off the walls, a twisted chorus of death.

Enzo was a whirlwind of motion beside her, his shield smashing into the faces of the undead with bone-shattering force. He kicked out at a geek that got too close, sending it sprawling to the ground, its limbs flailing as it tried to right itself. He didn't stop to watch — it didn't matter if it got back up.

The stairwell loomed ahead, a darkened passage that spiraled up into the unknown. Wendy reached it first, she grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, the hinges creaking in protest. She motioned for Enzo and Jade to follow, her eyes wide with urgency.

"Move, move, move!" she urged, her voice barely more than a rasp, her throat raw from the effort.

Jade was the first to reach the stairs, her spear raised as she scanned the darkness above. The stairwell was narrow, claustrophobic, the walls closing in on them as they began their ascent. The steps were slick with something wet — blood, or worse — and they had to move carefully, their feet slipping with each hurried step.

But they couldn't afford to slow down. The geeks were right behind them, their moans growing louder, more frenzied, as they realized their prey was escaping. Enzo fired an arrow down the stairs, the shaft whistling through the air before embedding itself in the eye socket of a geek that had managed to grab the railing. It tumbled backward, crashing into the others, momentarily slowing their advance.

But they kept coming, their decaying bodies tripping over one another, a grotesque waterfall of death spilling into the stairwell.

Wendy kicked out at another geek that had managed to grab her ankle, the force of the blow sending it crashing into the wall. She didn't stop, didn't even look back as she pushed past Enzo and Jade, her focus solely on reaching the top of the stairs.

They reached the landing at the top of the stairs, the door to the next level in sight. Wendy didn't hesitate — she shoved the door open, the metal creaking on its hinges, and motioned for the others to follow. Enzo and Jade stumbled through, their bodies exhausted, their breaths ragged.

She slammed the door shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing in the silence that followed.

For a moment, they stood there, their bodies heaving with the effort, their minds reeling from the horror of what they had just faced. The hallway on this level was darker, the lights flickering weakly, barely illuminating the shadows that clung to the walls. The air was heavy with the smell of rot, but it was quieter here, the sound of the geeks' moans muffled by the thick door.

Wendy leaned against the wall, her chest heaving, her bow hanging limply in her hand. She glanced at Enzo and Jade, their faces pale, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and relief.

Wendy forced herself to move, to push past the exhaustion that weighed down her limbs. They couldn't stop now — not when they had come this far. She motioned for the others to follow, her steps careful and measured as she led them down the darkened hallway.

The geeks were still out there, still hunting, and Wendy knew that they would have to fight again before this was over. But for now, they had a moment of respite, a brief pause in the endless nightmare that had become their reality.

And as they moved forward, their bodies tense with anticipation, Wendy couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come.

AUTHORS NOTE

the way im more excited to write thomas' chapters than wendy's bc i'm actually engaging with the show >w<

no shade to my queen wendy bc i know u have to go through shit before u join the group </3

but anyways we love this trio

for now

hehe

much love,