“GO!” Thomas shouted.
Andrew scrambled to his feet, slipping on the rain-slick path, and bolted for one of the narrow staff doors. This time, the knob turned. He shoved inside, Thomas on his heels. They both slammed the door a second before the monster snatched for them. It roared and punched the wood so hard the hinges rattled. Thomas braced himself against it and Andrew fumbled to fasten the lock.
They stood there in a disused, darkened service corridor, shaking as their eyes met.
“I need the hatchet,” Thomas whispered.
Something crashed into the door with a boom. The wood splintered.
Andrew flinched back, but not before he heard it: a voice of foul, rancid blood.
you shall not leave the Antler King without a tithe…
cut it from your chest—
come back come back bACKKK BACCCCKKK—
Andrew could hardly stand, he was trembling so hard. His fingertips had unconsciously crept to rest over his heart.
“Hide,” Thomas hissed. “I’ll come find you.”
“No-no-no we have to stay together—”
“It wants me.” Thomas’s eyes were too bright. “I’m the one bringing this on you, okay? Hide and let it follow me.”
Then he shoved away and ran down the hallway.
Andrew stood there a second, shaking. His mouth moving in silent, unheard words.Please don’t leave me.
A fist splintered through the wood, claws slashing out. Andrew bit back his cry and fled.
He went left, since he knew Thomas would’ve gone right, toward the front of the school. But Thomas was leading the monster to a dining hall full of kids, and how was that safer?
It hit Andrew then, how Thomas would sacrifice the world for him without even thinking.
How terrible that was.
How part of Andrew’s chest caved in with the relief of knowing it.
For a second, he hated himself—or maybe he hated Thomas.
“Monsters aren’t real,” Andrew whispered as he ran toward the downstairs classrooms.
This late, they should be empty. All he had to do was stay away from the student lounge and rec rooms. He slipped down the hallway with his arms wrapped around his aching stomach, dirt in his mouth and blood sticky in one ear. Windows linedone wall, classroom doors the other. In the deep afternoon gloom, the wallpaper looked black.
No, it looked… like it was moving.
Andrew paused. A faint scratching ticked across the walls. He let out a long, shuddering breath and tried to center himself. The monster hadn’t followed, and it wanted Thomas, not Andrew. It wanted its creator.
The wallpaper exploded.
Andrew threw his arms over his head, wrenching his body away as he cried out. Everything was lost to the sound of wallpaper tearing and glass shattering as the windows smashed inward. He didn’t understand what he was seeing, couldn’t make his brain accept it.
Vines grew out of the wallpaper. They shot across the floor, growing and writhing like fat green snakes. Roses blossomed as he watched, each petal the red of pooled blood. They didn’t stop. Ivy punched through the broken windows, and brambles unfurled over the carpet. Everything took a breath together, loud and wet and rasping.
And theygrew.
Leafy tendrils shot for Andrew’s ankles. He tripped backward, kicking them away.
