Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 School Lockdown Horror Stories (Compilation of June 2022)

Episode Date: June 15, 2022

🎧 Check out my new True Crime podcast called Crimehub. Just search Crimehub in the search bar to find it. 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube:��https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The loud banging on the door stop suddenly. The sound is replaced by the whimpering and sobbing and outright crying of many of the students in my classroom. It's going to be okay, guys. It's going to be okay. Mr. Cooper says. He seems oddly calm to me. Despite this, his words seem like blatant lies. There's no feeling in them, no reassurance.

I hear muffled voices from outside the room. And I know that they're figuring out a way in. When they do, there will be nothing to prevent them from doing whatever they want to the nearly 30 students in the classroom. Even if Mr. Cooper had a weapon, it sounds like there are three or four men out in the hall. There's no way he'd be able to take them all on. The lockdown started not even five minutes ago. I heard one faint gunshot shortly after the lockdown announcement came over the intercom. But then there was nothing until the banging at the door started.

Mr. Cooper is the closest to the door, while all of us students puddle against the wall. We're all just waiting for these men to come in, waiting to die. Pieces of the wooden door blast into the classroom with the sound of a gunshot. There's another shot, and more wood pieces fly across the front of the room. Hinges blasted away, the door falls back, and several men and clown masks rush into the room. I'm surprised to see Mr. Cooper attack one of them, knocking the guy's rifle away

and hitting him twice in the face in quick succession. One of the other clown guys goes to hit him with the butt of his rifle, but Mr. Cooper blocks it, then kicks the guy in the crotch. A third guy moves forward and does what the second couldn't. He hits my teacher on the back of the head with his rifle butt. Then the fourth guy comes forward and punches him in the face. Mr. Cooper goes down hard.

Son of a bitch! The first guy says, one hand straightening the rubber clown mask Cooper knocked a skew with the two hits. The guy that took the crotch shot is doubled over, moaning in pain. They're all wearing the same cheap clown masks, but their clothes are all slightly different. One of them has olive pants and a black long-sleeved shirt. Another one is dressed completely in black.

The other two have flannel shirts and jeans on. They all wear tactical vests and have pistols attached to their hips. Two of them have backpacks on. One of them carries a shotgun, and the other three have semi-automatic weapons. Bozo, you good? One of them says. The doubled-over guy straightens up. I'm good.

How about you, Krusty? The guy that got hit in the face lifts his mask up to his nose and spits blood onto the ground. I'll be good once I take it out on this motherfucker. Rusty says, gesturing to Mr. Cooper. All in good time. All four of the clowns look at us where we sit huddled against the wall. Most of my classmates are crying, looking at the floor. A couple of us look up at the clowns.

My name is Pennywise, says the guy who has been doing most of the talking. He's the one with the olive pants and the black shirt. We're not here for you. We're here for your teacher here. But if any of you feel the need to run out of the room or attack, or make any sudden moves, we will shoot you. The cries from the students grow louder at this proclamation. Shut the fuck off!

Penny Wise yells, scaring everyone quiet again. That's another rule, he continues in a normal tone. You need to be absolutely, positively silent. If you need to take a piss, or throw up, or take a shit, you just hold it. Got it? No one answers. Pennywise lifts his rifle and fires two quick shots into the ceiling over our heads. Do you understand?

Yes, I say. We get it. Pennywise turns to look at me. After a moment, he says, Good. Bozo wheels over the teacher's chair from behind the desk, and the four men get Mr. Cooper into it. Ronald, you have the duct tape?

Pennywise asks the fourth clown. Ronald sets the shotgun against the wall under the blackboard and slips his backpack off. He quickly pulls out a little of duct tape, handing it to Krusty, who starts taping Mr. Cooper to the chair. I can't help but wonder what these guys want with our teacher. I've never given much thought to any teacher's private life. I always just figured Mr. Cooper had a wife and kids he went home to every night. But now that I think to look, I notice he doesn't have a wedding ring.

He looks like a normal enough guy. Although seeing the way he moved when he attacked the intruders, make me think he has some kind of special training. He's one of the newer teachers in our high school, and if I had to guess his age, I'd say late 30s. Whatever he did, it looks like he pissed off the wrong people. Once Krusty is done, they try to wake Cooper up. One guy, Bozo, I think, brings out smelling salts,

breaking the pack underneath Cooper's nose. This works immediately. causing Cooper to jerk up and look around in confusion. Krusty brings his boot up and slams it down on Cooper's cry, causing our teacher to cry out. Where the hell is it, Parker? He asks. Or should I call you Cooper?

I don't know. Cooper cries. I don't know. I don't have it. Bullshit, Pennywise says. We know you do. It's somewhere in the school, isn't it? Krusty leans forward, putting more of his weight on Cooper's crotch.

No, stop. I don't know. Most of my classmates have their eyes cast down to the floor, but I watch this interaction with interest. I suspect I know what comes next. Not for any of us. Give me the shears, Pennywise says. Move out of the way, Krusty.

Ronald goes back into his bag and brings out a pair of garden shears, handing them to Pennywise. Where's the fucking money? Pennywise asks once Krusty steps away. I don't know. Cooper screamed. Pennywise shakes his head and grabs my teacher's left hand. They taped both his wrists to the arms of the chair,

so his hands are easily accessible. Pennywise puts the shears into position around his pinky finger, while Cooper pleads with the men to stop. I expect Pennywise to ask him again, but he doesn't. He closes the shears, cutting Cooper's pinky finger off. I hear a student vomit behind me with the sounds of my teacher screams. I stare at the bloody, severed, finger on the floor like it's a prop.

My brain doesn't seem capable of registering that this situation is real. Maybe I've been ruined by violent movies. Or maybe this is just how I react to real-life violence. Either way, I can't bring myself to look away. Tell me where it is, Penny Wise says. Carlton has it! Cooper screams. Carlton's the one who hit it. I don't know where it is. Penny Wise shakes his head again and goes for the

ring finger, cutting it off quickly and efficiently. The smell of blood and vomit permeates the room. We already talked to Carlton, Penny Wise says. How do you think we found out you were hiding here? We know it's here somewhere. Just tell us where. And this all stops. You're just going to kill me. Cooper says between racking sobs. Why should I tell you? You know what? You're absolutely right. Penny Wise says, standing up. He looks over at Krusty and nods. Krusty nods back and then moves out into the room toward us. Screams erupt from the students along with the rushed pleas.

Krusty yells for quiet. Once he has it, he scans the students, then moves forward and grabs a girl named Beverly by her blonde hair, yanking her up. She screams and kicks her legs, but Krusty is a big man. He has no trouble dragging her to. the front of the classroom. Beverly's boyfriend, Trevor, dashes out toward Krusty. He makes it two steps before he's shot in the chest. The kids behind him get splattered in his blood. His body crumples to the ground. I look over to see that it was Bozo who shot him. The room is silent, except

for Beverly's redoubled screams. The rest of a stare at Trevor's dead body as it leaks blood all over the floor between desks. You think this is going to make me tell? Cooper shouts. I don't give a shit about any of these kids. Kill them all. I don't care. Krusty shoves Beverly down on her knees in front of Cooper.

Beg your teacher for your life. Penny Wise says to her, pulling out his pistol and aiming it at her head. She's a blubbering mess. But she gets some words out. Please, Mr. Cooper. She says, I don't want to die. Tell them where the money is.

Please. Mr. Cooper tries to stay stoic, but tears drop down his cheeks. He shakes his head. Penny Wise pulls the trigger, blasting Beverly's brains all over the floor. The body folds over. Oh my God, I think. But that's it. I don't cry.

I don't vomit. I don't feel much of anything. I start to wonder if something's wrong with me. I think about dying here today. But even that doesn't bring about a strong... emotional reaction. I know you, Pennywise says. I know you're not like us.

So how many lives are you willing to take on your shoulders? I can do this all day. Can you? Cooper grimaces, his eyes screaming tears. It looks like he's gearing up to say something, to tell them where the money is. But just as he's about to open his mouth, another clown runs into the room

and whispers urgently to Pennywise. What? Pennywise says. He stands up and walks out of the room with the new clown. Then he gestures to Krusty to come with him. The three of them head out, leaving Bozo and Ronald behind. Bozo kneels in front of Cooper and starts trying a different tactic with him, talking like their old buddies.

Maybe they are old buddies. Come on, man, Bozo says. You know him. You know how he is. He'll kill this whole fucking school to get that money. None of us want them. that. These are just kids, man. But you put them in this position. You did this. Ronald paces nearby. His shotgun is still propped under the blackboard, but he has his pistol in hand. When Cooper doesn't

answer, Ronald kneels next to Bozo, and they both start talking to the guy, convincing him to tell them where the money is. This puts their backs to the classroom. Before the thought can cross my mind to do something, a kid named Juan books it straight out the door. Both the remaining clowns jump up and run after him into the hallway. I don't really think about moving. I just do. I run up and grab the shotgun just as shot sound from the hallway. I quickly locate the safety and click it off, remembering all the times I've gone hunting with my dad and uncle. Stepping out into the hallway with the gun ready to fire, I come face to face with Bozo. Ronald is coming back toward the classroom behind him and down the hall I can see Juan on the floor blood pooling around him.

Bozo has his semi-auto rifle held across his chest, not ready to fire. Ronald has his pistol in his hand down by the thigh. You move those guns, you die, I say. I'm surprised at how steady my voice is. Hey, come on, kid, Bozo says. You trying to get yourself killed? Just put the gun down and go You sit back with your little friends. Behind Bozo, Ronald takes a slow, small step to the side, trying to get behind Bozo so I can't see him. I pull the trigger, the recoil smashing the butt into my shoulder. I don't know what kind of shells are in the shotgun, but the one round takes down both men, probably because I aim at Bozo's neck above his tactical vests.

The shot essentially takes his head off and continues on, smashing into Ronald behind him. Only I quickly realize that Ronald isn't dead. He's injured, but he's still moving, trying to aim his pistol up at me. So I quickly chamber another shell with a pump slide and fire it Ronald before he can fire at me. There's no way he's alive after the shot. Like his buddy, his head is pretty much gone. I hear footsteps coming from the far end of the hall. Looking up, I see Pennywise, Krusty, and the other clown rounding the corner at a run.

I spin around and run the other way. ducking down a nearby hallway as the bullets fly behind me. I know all the classroom doors are locked, at least all the ones with people in them, but I also know that the stage entrance to the auditorium is down the hall. I think of the storage area behind the stage, with all the props and costumes. I duck toward the door, thankful to find that it's unlocked. Once inside, I go down a short hallway and duck into the storage room. There's all kinds of stuff in here and plenty of places to hide.

So I wedge myself behind some stacked wooden cutouts, pulling a nearby costume rack toward me to block the entrance. I rack the slide on the shotgun, loading another shell into the chamber, and I wait. There's something else here now. Something new. From, exclusively on Paramount Plus, it's the series Stephen King calls Scary as Hell. Everything here is impossible, but it's also real. Sci-fi Vision calls it the best show streaming right now. We're running out of time and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch.

Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. The door slams open after only a couple of seconds. Where did he go? I hear Krusty say, I don't know. Pennywise says. I assume they left the other clown, the fifth one, back in the classroom with Mr. Cooper. Fuck!

Pennywise shouts. He's just a kid. Krusty says, We need to get the money and get the hell out of here. How's the diversion set up going? Fine, Pennywise says. Mackie's on it. He'll have the kids loaded on the bus and the explosives in place.

The cops will think we're getting on it. By the time it explodes, we'll be gone. You don't think they can see with their helicopters and drones? Just fucking relax. It's fine. He pulled the bus right up to the doors. And there's an awning blocking the view for. from overhead. With the school doors propped open, they can't tell who got on or off.

I've already told the dipshit negotiator will be leaving with a bus full of hostages. So we just need the money, Krusty says, sounding relieved. There's a moment of silence from Pennywise. I assume he's looking around the room. Then he sighs and says, let's go. I wait several minutes to be sure that it's not some ploy to get me to come out of my hiding spot. Once I'm sure they're gone. I shove aside the costume rack and crawl out. Having no idea how many shells the shotgun holds, I pump it once. I eject an unfired shell. Pumping it again yields nothing. Only one shell left. I load the shell back into the gun so it's ready to fire. Then I creep back out of the storage room, and then into the hallway, moving slowly and looking all around. My first thought

is to get people out of classrooms. But I quickly realized that no one will open a classroom door for me, a teenager carrying around a shotgun. Even if I didn't have the gun, protocol is to wait for police to show up and escort people out. And since this is a hostage situation, I don't think the police will be coming anytime soon. Instead, I think of what Pennywise was saying about a bus parked next to doors with an awning.

If they're going to blow up a bus, that should be my priority. If I go running out the nearest exit and tell the police what's happening, I doubt they'll be able to stop it. The only exterior doors that have an awning and an area big enough to pull a bus up to are the ones next to the gym. There's a big stretch of concrete in front of the main gym doors that a bus could drive up on easily. Plus, having the gym doors propped open would block any side fuse, just like Pennywise said. The only problem will be getting there. As I approach the hallway with wan and the dead clowns in it, I hear footsteps and voices coming toward me. I run back the other way and slip into a recessed doorway as they pass, going down the main hallway.

Once they've passed, I creep down the hall again and poke my head around the corner, seeing Ronald, Krusty, and the nameless clown escorting Mr. Cooper down the hall. He must have talked. I wonder briefly how many of my classmates are now dead in the room. How many it took for Cooper to tell them where the money is. Again, the numbness is pervasive. And I realize that ability, which seems to be inherent, is the only reason I'm able to push my fear aside long enough to do what I'm doing.

So maybe there is something wrong with me. But if there is, I'll take it. As long as I can use it to stop these assholes, I'll take it. I watched the four people move down the hallway, waiting until they pick a direction. There are two ways they can go, right toward the gym, or left toward the old section of the school. They go left. This is good for me, because I need to go right to get to the bus and try to warn the people on it.

So I sneak down the hallway, taking it slow, listening for signs of movement. I get to the intersecting hallway and look down it, seeing that it's empty. The interior gym doors are at the very end of the hall. They're closed. I just hope they're unlocked. I move down the hallway, gun up, and ready to fire, but make it to the gym doors without incident. The gym door slams open just as I'm reaching down to open it.

It smacks into my hand, but I managed to step back, standing in front of me as another clown I've never seen before, with a pistol, a pistol that he's raising to point at me. My shotgun is no longer in a firing position, and I'll have to take a step back to get it back into position. I'll be dead by the time I do that. So I do the only thing I can do. I swing the butt of the shotgun at the guy's gun hand, knocking it away just before he fires. He backhands me with his other hand. My head snaps sideways, and my body follows. As I turn, I accidentally depress the trigger on the shotgun. The gun fires, the recoil ripping it out of my hand and jamming my finger as it goes. I hit

the ground hard on my right side, the empty shotgun clattering against the floor behind me. Expecting to take a bullet any second, I whip my head around to look at the clown. He stands over me, looking down. But he's no longer holding his pistol. Only, that's technically wrong. He is holding the pistol. But that part of his arm is no longer attached to his body. I must have accidentally fired the shotgun just when the barrel was pointing at his right arm,

directly at the elbow joint. Blood pours out of his wound and onto the tiles. He moves, causing me to scumptory. scramble away, but he's not moving toward me. He reaches down and picks up his arm. Then, without another glance in my direction, he walks down the hall. I figure he must be in shock, but I'll take what I can get. Getting up off the ground, I run into the gym, sprinting across the basketball courts toward the exterior doors. Busting out the doors, I see the bus driving through the parking lot toward the exit. There are police cars everywhere on the street outside the school, but they're moving

out of the way, apparently to let the bus pass. Stop! I scream, running after the bus. Stop the bus! But it doesn't stop. What it does is slow down to take the ramp out of the parking lot, allowing me to catch up to it. I bang on the back glass door, yelling for them to stop. Scared students look out at me.

Their faces all screwed up with fear. The bus keeps going. Maybe these guys told the driver they would shoot kids inside the school if he stopped. Maybe they threatened his family. Whatever the reason, he's not stopping. I grabbed the rear bumper with one hand as the bus bumps down out of the parking lot and turns right. I'm keeping up now, but when the bus gets going faster, I won't be able to. But I still hang on as it gains speed down the residential street.

Cops outside their cars watch it go, yelling to each other as they see me at the back. Stop the bus! I yell at them, but I know they won't be fast enough. The bus could explode at any moment. My legs are getting tired, and my feet get tangled up. As I fall, I shoot my other hand out in a desperate attempt to hang on. My grip stays strong. But the bus is now dragging me down the street.

I look up toward my hands, and my eyes pass over something stuck to the underside of the bus. It's the bomb. Four pipes tied together and attached to what looks like a simple timer. I don't know much about vehicles, But I'm guessing the tank-like structure it's next to is the gas tank. The bomb is about four feet away from me under the bus. I think I can reach it if I do this right. The bus is only going about 25 miles an hour.

I switch my right hand from an overhand grip to an underhand on the underside of the bumper. I flip my body over, supporting all my weight with my right hand for a second as I do it. I almost slip, but get my left hand in position under the bumper just in time. Finally, I bent my knees, bringing my feet up. The soles of my shoes slide along the asphalt like I'm skiing backward. And I start dragging myself under the bus, the street passing about a foot under my back. I can feel the soles of my shoes getting hot from the friction. Almost there.

Unable to see how the bomb is attached, I decide to just reach for it, realizing as I pull it, that it's attached with magnets next to the gas tank. It comes off fairly easily. fairly easily. My arm muscles are just about done, so I let go, scraping along the ground until I come to a stop. I sit up at the waist and look around for a place to throw the bomb. There's a house to my right, and police lining the street to my left, so I just put the bomb in the middle of the street and run. Move! It's a bomb! I shout at the police standing nearby. I run at an angle away from

the bomb, jumping over the nose of a cop car as the police get the message and scatter. The explodes behind me. The sound is incredible and deafening. I hear shrapnel smashing into the police car I'm hiding behind, and I look down the street to see the squad car nearest the bomb go airborne. It comes crashing down on its roof. Thankfully, it doesn't look like anyone was inside. I don't waste any time. Once I'm sure I'm okay, I turned to the nearest cop and tell them that the clowns aren't on the bus, that they have some other means of escape. It doesn't take them long to think of the tunnels built under the school. Tunnels that lead to the old sewer system that's no longer used.

Apparently, they called one of the old principals in when it was clear they were dealing with a hostage situation. The old woman told them about the tunnels, so they had guys waiting at the likely exits even before I came out. So I hang out with the cops until we get the word that the SWAT teams covering the tunnels caught five guys trying to escape, with over $5 million in cash. Apparently, these guys had been robbing banks all over the U.S. for years,

saving the money until they could get out of the country. Then the guy I knew is Mr. Cooper and another member of their crew stole the money. It takes them hours to sort through everything. But my mom and dad come down and keep me company through all the questions. I have to repeat my story about a dozen times. I can tell my parents are kind of appalled. that I killed three guys. Oh yeah, the one whose arm I shot off died in the school of blood loss. But they're glad I'm alive. Obviously, I'm glad I'm alive too. The police say that I saved a lot

of lives, and I guess I did. But I learned an important lesson during the school lockdown. I learned that I have nerves of steel. So I guess I should become a cop. But the more I think about that, the more I think that it may not be the best career choice. I think crime will pay better. I looked up as Silas came into the classroom. His eyes darted around, and his face looked pale. He was my age, but had stubble on his face that hinted at a full beard. He wore shorts, sandals, and a form-fitting t-shirt, as always. I didn't have to look to know that some of the girls in the room were checking him out. Some because they wanted his attention, and some because they were scared they would get it.

But the creep didn't seem interested in the girls today. His sharp green eyes met mine, and I looked away. I didn't feel like being humiliated in front of the entire class, and I knew from experience that he took eye contact as some kind of threat. But as I looked away, I thought about what I'd just seen in Silas' eyes in that one quick moment. Could it have been fear? Ignoring me, he made his way to the back of the classroom, sitting down and conferring with his two buddies, Tyler and Liam.

Usually, the three douche-cateers were disruptive and boisterous. But today, when Silas sat down and started whispering to them, they seemed to grow serious. Even Mr. Flores, who sat with his feet propped on his desk, waiting for class to start, notice this. His eyes narrowed as they focused on the three seniors in the back of the room. The girl I had a serious crush on, Layla, came in next. Our eyes met, and I smiled briefly.

She smiled back. Before my mind could run wild with the implications of that smile, my friend Jaden came in and sat at the desk to my right. What's up, dude? I said by way of greeting. Missed you at lunch. You go off campus? Jaden got situated and then glanced around the room, looking back at the three douche-keteers for a long moment. He didn't seem to hear me.

Hello? You there? I said. Huh? Yeah. What's up? He said. He seemed a little flustered.

Did you run to class or something? I said. No. He said, finally looking me in the face. Sorry. I had to go off campus. for lunch today. You had to? Why did you have to? Never mind. It's fine. Just don't worry about it. Okay, I said, thinking that Jaden was acting weird. All right, Mr. Flores said, standing up and

clapping his hands together. Open your books to page. The PA crackled to life, stopping Mr. Flores mid-sentence. Lockdown, lock down, lock down, lock down. The speaker announced. Oh shit, Jaden said next to me. Was that four times? I asked him. Did it say lockdown four times? Jaden looked at me. His brown eyes wide. He nodded. It's real. Our school had a system were saying lockdown three times told us it was a drill. But four times meant the real thing. Everyone get against this wall, Mr. Flores said, hurrying over and shutting the door. chair scraped as all of us got up from our desks and headed toward the wall. I heard the metallic click as Mr. Flores locked the door.

Then he pulled the rolled up black curtain down over the slim door window. Last, he flipped the light switch off and joined us over at the wall. Jesus Christ, I heard Silas say. It's really happening. He was talking in his normal voice, and Mr. Flores shushed him. Silas didn't seem to hear it. Oh shit, man, they're coming. Our teacher stood up and walked back over to Silas and his buddies at the back of the room.

Do you know something about this, Silas asked. I don't know, Silas said. Maybe. He was starting to sob. I wish I could say it made me feel good to hear one of the biggest assholes in the school close to tears. But I was more concerned with what the hell was happening. Tell me what you know. Now! Mr. Flores demanded.

Silas resisted until Liam said, Come on, dude, you gotta tell him. These guys, they threatened me online, Silas said. They were coming to school to get me today. I didn't believe them. I thought it was a hoax. What guys? Are they dangerous? Mr. Flores asked.

It's this crazy Nazi group online. They said I was harassing them, but I wasn't. I swear I wasn't. I don't know how these messages got there. The proud brotherhood? Mr. Flores asked. Silas nodded. sniffing.

Oh, God. Everyone in our town had heard of the proud brotherhood. The group had apparently started as a prison gang, but quickly expanded to the outside world. No one knew who any of the members were, aside from those in prison, but they had a big online presence, and they'd recently taken credit for firebombing a black-owned business in town, killing the proprietor. The cops were offering a cash reward to anyone who could have been in the company. to anyone who could bring them information leading to an arrest. Pretty much all the students in the dark classroom had been listening to the conversation,

and people were freaking out. The proud brotherhood is coming here? Layla asked, sounding scared. She was half black, and about a third of our class were people of color. What did you do? Another student asked. I didn't do anything. Silas sobbed.

I swear. I hadn't even heard any footsteps. Everyone in the classroom froze. looking toward the door. Silas Edwards, a gruff, muffled voice called from outside. We know you're in there. Come on out now. Silas wailed, muttering fearful sounds and shaking his head. I looked at Jaden, who was busy staring at the door, a pained look on his face.

I elbowed him to get his attention. Is this you? I whispered. I knew that Jaden got harassed just as much as anyone by Silas. No one was safe. He was always making unwanted advances toward the girls and being an all-around dick to the guys. Jaden looked offended. No, dude. Of course not. What are you talking about?

Sorry, I said. Just the way you came into class. I punctured one of his tires, okay? Jaden whispered. Security almost caught me. I had to hide out in the parking lot and then run here to make it on time. Okay, I said. Okay. You listen to me, Silas's classmates and Silas' teacher, the guy outside said. We're not here for you. We just want him. But if you make me break this door down, we're coming in shooting. I'm sure there are more white traitors in that room than just Silas. And anyone with dark skin will die.

I promise you that. Half the class erupted in worried whispers and sobs. I looked over at Mr. Flores, who was Hispanic. and saw that he was looking around the room. For what? I don't know. Maybe just to look like he was doing something while he decided whether to give Silas over. As much as I disliked Silas,

I didn't want him to die. But the math was pretty simple. One life for many others. Of course, there was no guarantee that the men outside the door would keep their word even if we did force Silas out of the room. I realized I was shaking,

but my mind was kind of blank. Like I was numb. Maybe because I knew that we'd have to make this terrible choice sooner rather than later. Come on out, Silas, or we'll kill all your friends. This came from a different voice outside, making me wonder how many guys were out there. I imagined them with masks and full-body armor on, probably holding AR-15 rifles. What are we going to do? We can't just let them kill Silas.

A girl named Lindsay said, tears streaming down her face. Absolutely not Mr. Flores said We wait The police will be here soon Many of the students murmured At that You're going to get us killed

A kid named Will said Several kids agreed Someone banged on the door again And then yelled We're getting fucking tired of waiting You have three minutes to bring him out Or we're coming in Oh fuck this

Liam said standing up We gotta give him up I'm not dying for him Silas looked up at his friend. For a moment, I thought he would explode with rage, but he just started crying louder. This is not up for discussion, Mr. Flores said, but I thought I heard his voice waiver. I checked my phone. It was 133.

We had until 136. We have to give him to them, Leila said. It's the only choice we have. Otherwise, we may all die. Layla, Mr. Flores said. down and shut up. Hey, I said, she may be right. Let's at least discuss this. Are we really willing to risk all our own lives? By the time the police get here, we could all be dead. He's right, Mr. Flores, Jaden said. We don't have a choice. Mr. Flores, who was sitting

down in front of Silas, shook his head. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And this is my classroom. You kids don't get a vote. I'm sorry, but we're waiting. We don't get a vote for our own fucking lives, Jaden said. That's bullshit. This transcends your stupid job. This is about life and death. We sure as hell do get a vote. I heard a chorus of agreement. Most of the class had made their choice. It's not going to happen. So just drop it. Flores yelled. Jaden had worked his way back around Flores. And after this last outburst, he jumped forward, wrapping one arm around Flores' neck. The man's hands shot up to Jaden's arm, trying to wrench it off. Meanwhile, Jaden was squeezing, trying to knock the man out with the sleeper hold. Flores got his feet under him, shoving back,

and sending them both slamming into a line of desks. Jaden called out, and I ran over to help, along with two other guys from the class. We held Flores' limbs while he fought, trying to free himself. Then his eyes closed, and he went limp. Jaden let him go and shoved him off. Okay, let's let them in, he said, panting for breath. I stood up and turned toward the door to see Tyler and Silas standing there, blocking the path. Silas seemed to have realized that it was fight or die time, and his friend Tyler was going to stand with him, unlike Liam, who was with us. A glance over my shoulder showed me that it was five against two. Everyone else was either unwilling or too afraid to fight.

You made your bed, I said to Silas. You won't get us killed for some stupid shit you did. Fuck you, faggot, Silas said. I rushed forward, along with Jaden, Liam, and two other guys. I took a fist to the face before I could land a punch, hitting Silas in the throat. Then it was an all-out brawl. We all ended up on the floor. Tyler and Silas never really had a chance.

I went insane, releasing all the penthouse. up aggression from nearly four years of bullying, humiliation, and degradation. It felt good to feel his nose break under my fist, and I didn't stop. I kept punching Silas in the face while Liam and Jaden kicked him. The other two guys were beating up on Tyler nearby. At some point, I grabbed a heavy textbook and wailed on him with that, smashing it down onto his face again and again, reveling in every satisfying crunch. Suddenly, I realized someone was yelling at us. I looked over and saw a saw Layla, she'd opened the classroom door, but there was no one outside. No white supremacists dressed in combat gear, no cops, not anyone. They're gone, Layla said, looking at Silas

with wide eyes. I looked down at my classmate and felt the gorge rising in my throat. He was barely recognizable anymore. I could tell that the orbital around his left eye had been broken from the way his face seemed to sag in there. His nose was a wreck. and his teeth were missing or bent inward. There was blood all over the place. Tyler didn't look any better. I backed away, looking first at my fellow attackers, and then at the other people in the classroom.

There was an impossibly heavy sense of shame and dread in the air. Layla stepped over and bent down, pressing two fingers to Silas' neck. After a moment, she exhaled sharply and fell back. Oh my God! He's dead. You guys killed him. What?

I said, looking down at my blood-stained hands and clothes. No, no. I looked around, as if I'd wake up in my bed, relieved to find that this was all a nightmare. But it wasn't. I didn't want him to die, Laila said. I just wanted to scare him. I just wanted to scare him, I promise. I looked at Jaden, whom I'd suspected of setting up this thing.

But it had been Layla the whole time. She'd apparently gotten tired of the sexual remarks and the unwanted attention from Silas and decided to teach him a lesson. It wasn't real, I said. The guys at the door? They weren't really proud brotherhood? No, she said, tears welling in her eyes. It was two homeless guys I hired.

Said if they came and went in a couple of minutes, they wouldn't be caught. I just wanted to scare him. Oh man, we're so fucked, Jaden said. Just then, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. The doorway quickly filled with armed policemen. They looked at Tyler and Silas on the floor and then moved their gazes up to the five of us standing over them. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. One cop said, looking down at Tyler.

You boys better step back and keep your hands where we can see them. Another said, stepping into the room. It didn't take long for them to figure out what happened. There were so many witnesses, and despite the circumstances, they didn't take it easy on us. They didn't take it easy on me. Unlike the others, I was 18 when it happened, and I'm the only one that used a weapon, a textbook. This is why I write this story from prison, serving 15 years for manslaughter. But the ultimate irony is that I'm now a member of the Proud Brotherhood.

I don't have much of a choice. You need to have protection in a place like this. And since I'm white, the P.B was my only option. But when I get out of jail, I'll be able to make things right. I'll make sure that bitch Laila pays for what she did to me. Lazzangue surgelley, puissance-moly for 15 minutes. We're like it's their dojo.

Pre-a-joo? Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo. The casino on-line that proposes the more recent machine-asson-sou and the games of casino in direct. Profite 50 tours gratuys on Big Bas Bonanza without without any

payments instantane. Hey, I've gained! Woohoo! Sonture the pleasure. Play-Ojo! 18-year-Depo

10 years, 10% per seattle 50% percent per capita deposit bonanza, depot minimum of 10 dollars. Veal yet

to be a fashion responsible. The conditions apply. When you do something enough, you start to get used to it. And when the lockdown

started, just about five minutes ago now I wasn't thinking anything of it. Because we don't done so many lockdown drills before. I was just going through the motions, not realizing that it wasn't a drill. But I sure his shit realize it's not a drill now. The screams coming from down the hall are all the evidence I need. I look around the dark room at all my classmates sitting against

the wall. Several of the kids are sobbing. My friend Eric is sitting nearby, trying to comfort his girlfriend, Trina. We share a look, and I see that he's taking this well. About as well as can be expected when there are blood-curdling screams coming from down the hall. Although we've never talked about it before, I know that Eric and I will act if we have to. Maybe we'll wait by the door and attack the intruder if he manages to get through. That's not to say I'm not scared. My heart feels like it's inside my head, beating on my temples. But I would still rather try to do something than wait around to get shot or whatever. Although I haven't heard any gunshots.

The sobbing from my classmates gets louder, causing me to look toward the door. The lights are on in the hallway, and I can see that there's a shadow blocking the slice of light underneath the door. Looking over at my teacher, Mr. Stevenson, I see that he's shot. shaking with fear. He's pretty old, with his white hair and liver spots developing on his hands. I don't expect him to do much if the person makes it inside. There's something like a snort from outside the door. But it's not a human snort. It sounds more like a horse or something, like some kind of animal. I barely have time to process the sound before something scrapes the outside of the door. The sound makes me wince, not because of the sound.

it's loud, but because it's so strange. The scraping continues for a moment and then stops. My eyes are fixed on the bottom of the door as Eric comes up beside me. What the hell is that? He asks in a whisper. I reply quietly, without looking at him. The thing that really freaks me out is the fact that people are still screaming down the hall. That's not good. There's another snort, and then some kind of strange vapor flows under the door. It's dark green in color, and it brings with it a terrible smell. What I imagine the waste from a slaughterhouse would smell like if I sat around for a week in 100-degree weather.

As the gas or vapor or whatever dissipates in the room, people start to gag and vomit. I pull the collar of my shirt up over my nose, but it doesn't help much. Whoever is out there pumping this stuff into the room stops, but the shadow is still there, as if he's waiting. One kid, Cliff, starts making these strange noises, like he's choking. Eric and I look over at him to see he's convulsing in the corner of the room.

His fellow students look down at him in horror. His choking sounds get louder as his eyes roll up into his head. And just before his eyelids flutter closed, I think I see the whites of his eyes go blood-red. I move over to him, along with Mr. Stevenson. Does anyone know if he's allergic to anything? Mr. Stevenson asks. I don't think so. Tara, Cliff's friend, replies in a wavering voice.

I pat down his pockets looking for an epipen, but I don't find one. Cliff's back arches, and I hear the crackling of bones. It's not your average back popping. It sounds much worse. What's happening to him? Tara says, her voice high. Shh, Mr. Stevenson says. Protocol is to call 911, so help is already on the way.

On the other side of the room, several other students cry out. Mr. Stevenson, the same thing is happening to Sharon. Tommy Shea says. I look over and see that Sharon is now convulsing, just like Cliff. Tara screams, and I whip my head back around to look at Cliff. The skin of his face and arms. is deforming, turning a grayish green color. He opens his mouth to scream,

and I see that his tongue has split in two, and his teeth are growing to sharp, needle-like points. Cliff flips over and arches his back as spikes tear through his skin and pierce his shirt amid expanding bloodstains. Everyone is screaming in the classroom now, backing away from Cliff and Sharon, as they both undergo a similar transformation.

The spikes grow thicker at Cliff's neck, pushing his head forward and giving him a hunched look. His fingers transform, the nails turning into claws. His shoes burst apart, revealing similar claws on his feet. He's entirely dark gray now, with just a shade of green to his skin, which is no longer skin, I realize. His epidermis has transformed into scales. Little tufts of hair stick out from the thick scales on his head. on his head. Other than his hair and his clothes, he doesn't look at all like Cliff. His sharp teeth seem to stretch his lips into a carnivorous grin. His eyelids shoot open,

revealing red eyes with vertical black irises. The reptilian irises track around the room, gazing at us with cold appraisal. Liv, Mr. Stevenson says in a quiet, shaky voice. The monster lunges at our teacher, It's claws, slashing through his neck like knives through wet bread. Blood splatters Terra, who screams. The monster rides Mr. Stevenson to the floor and chomps down on his face with its wide mouth, full of pointed teeth. Sharon is now finishing her own transformation.

In seconds, we'll be stuck in here with two of them. Run! I say, turning to locate Eric as I move. Everyone runs toward the door, which I unlock and yank open. Surprise to find no one there waiting for us. But after two steps into the hallway, I see why. There's a hulking creature to my left, much larger than the versions back in my classroom.

It's busy pouring that dark gas into the next classroom in line. I realize it's generating the gas in its body, exhaling it out of its nostrils. Seeing that, I turn right and look down the hallway to see a couple of classroom doors open. There's a body on the floor in a pool of blood in one of the door I run that way, not willing to chance running past the huge lizard monster, even if it is busy for the moment. I hear my classmates running behind me.

Where are we going? Eric says, running up next to me. I don't know. I shout. We need to get out of here. We round the corner, headed toward the nearest exit, only to see one of those creatures in the hallway up ahead, facing the other way. Eric and I stopped, and the people following run into us. They're coming!

Trina screams. The creature in the hallway turns around, putting its red eyes on us. Go back! I say. Into one of those classrooms! We all head back the way we came, running into the open classroom that doesn't have a body in the doorway. But we soon see that there are bodies around the room.

Holy shit! Eric says, I shut and lock the door just before one creature slams into it from outside. Are there any monsters in here? I call out. Several people answer in the negative, trying not to stare at the six or seven dead bodies around the room. Who are we missing? I say. Sharon attacked Tara, one girl says.

That's why I didn't follow us, I guess. Shit! I say, Mrs. Tenenbaum's bloody body is nearby. Huge gashes across her chest. The skin gnawed and ripped off her face. What are we going to do? Eric says. Behind me, the creature bumps into the door again.

I half expect more of that vapor to come underneath the door, but it doesn't. The creature seems to lose interest. I can hear it snorting every so often as it moves away. Hello? A small voice says from the front of the room. It's coming from under the teacher's desk. It's okay, I say. You can come out.

A small kid crawls out from under the desk. I think he's a freshman, but I'm not sure. He pushes up his glasses and peers around with uneasy eyes. round with uneasy eyes. What happened? I asked him. Something came to the door and gassed us, the kid says. It smelled like death. I thought I was going to choke.

I nod. The beginnings of an idea forming in my mind. Cliff and Sharon and who, I think. Who turned? I asked him. Who transformed? Will, Annie, and Delrod? He answers. A pained look on his face.

Annie? I say. She's kind of goth, right? Black and pink hair? The kid nods. They're all in the science club, right? The kid's eyes go wide as he looks up at me. Yeah, how did you know? Because the two people in our room that turned, Cliff and Sharon, are in Science Club too. Holy shit, you're right, Eric says. Cliff told me they had some sort of weird accident during the club meeting the other day. Something about Mr. Bemis messing up an experiment. He said it was crazy, but everything was fine. I guess he was wrong. The rest of the kids in the room are looking at us. Many of them are crying, and I don't blame them. I'm going to the science lab, I say to Eric. Stay here with everyone else. I expect Eric to argue, but he doesn't. It's a good

thing. He looks like he's the only one that has his shit together in the room. I just hope. I spot an umbrella in the corner of the room. Back behind Mrs. Tenenbaum. desk. I grab it and head back to the door, moving the roll-down curtain to look out the door window. I don't see any of the creatures, so I tell Eric I'm going. Good look, he says. The kid who was hiding under the desk makes a noise like he wants to tell me something. I look at him, and he gazes back at me from over his glasses. I can't quite place the look, but I know it means something. I look around the room and see that all eyes are on me, and they all have that look in them. I suddenly feel a great weight on my shoulders. I don't like the feeling, so I shake it off, suppressing the

urge to tell my classmates to stop looking at me. Turning back around, I grip the umbrella and yank the door open. I step out, pulling it shut behind me. Although the science lab is to the left, I look right, because even before I look, I know there are monsters there. I couldn't see them through the window, but I can now that I'm in the hall. There's a dozen of them about 20 yards away in the hall, just sitting there as if they've been waiting for me. The big one sits in the middle of them, staring at me like all the others. Aside from its sheer size, the difference is that the big one doesn't have any clothes on. All the other creatures have on the same clothes they were wearing when they were.

they turned, albeit most of them are in tatters. I back away down the hall, the closed umbrella held over my shoulder. Their red eyes follow me as they get up off their haunches, crouching on all fours, getting ready to run at me. Just when I think they're about to charge me, I hear heavy footsteps coming from a hallway behind the creatures. I know there's an exit that way, and the sounds of the footsteps makes me think that the police are here. Sure enough, four officers and in full SWAT gear round the corner behind the dozen creatures. Even though they have face shields on, I can see the officer's eyes go wide as they see the creatures that are now turning around to face the more immediate threat.

What the fuck is this? One of the officers says, like it must be a joke. All the creatures move at once, springing at the officers. Gunshots erupt, and I feel a ricochet buzzed the air next to me. In two heartbeats, all four of the officers, officers are down. They scream as blood sprays out, splattering the tile floor and the white-painted walls. I turn and I run. The science lab isn't far. I take the second right out of the main hallway, and then the first left. I'm happy to see that the door is open, but as I get closer, I realize the door has been busted open from the inside. This means I can't lock it when I get in. I stop at the doorway and peer inside. I can't see it.

I can't see behind every workspace, but what I can see looks monster-free. There are no bodies on the floor, no overturned tables, and no signs of a struggle. The lab must have been empty when the lockdown went into effect. The only sign that anything is amiss is the door, which I pull flush behind me even though I can't lock it. I don't know what I'm looking for, but that's okay, because I immediately see something on the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom. It's a yellow legal pad with a pen and a syringe on it. I rush up to the items, staring for a moment at the black substance inside the syringe. Then I move it off the pad and read the note there.

I hope this comes to nothing. The note reads. I hope what I fear will happen doesn't come to pass, but I can't just hope. If I change, I won't be able to administer this to myself. And, God help me. I don't have the courage to take my own. life now, even if I know I should. So whoever finds this, please follow these instructions. I read the instructions for using the syringe, a knot of dread tying itself in my belly.

The note ends with an apology and a name, Carl Bemis, teacher, and science club leader. Once I'm done reading the note, I know that the huge creature, the one that was exhaling vapor under the doors, is him. and I know it falls on me to follow his instructions. I read the note one more time, focusing on the part where he explains how to use the syringe. I think of all the bodies in the classroom, of Mr. Stevenson getting his throat ripped out. I think of the SWAT guy screaming,

their blood hitting the hallway wall, and I realize I can't do this. I realize my bravado was for show to make my classmates see me as a capable guy, as the tough, hero type that's such a staple of American pop culture. But now that I'm alone in this classroom, with no one watching, the will has gone out of me. I'll surely be killed.

If trained police officers can't even stand up to these things, what chance does a 17-year-old kid have? No chance. Still clutching the syringe and the umbrella, I get down on my knees and crawl under the desk to hide, just like that kid in poor Mrs. Tenenbaum's classroom. I sit for a long time. Or maybe it just seems like a long time.

I keep telling myself to stand up, to go. I tell myself that no one else can do this. But I don't move. Before long, my thoughts returned to the room full of classmates I left behind. I remember the way the small kid looked at me just before I left the classroom. The way they all looked at me. At the time, I couldn't quite place the last. look. I just thought they were putting all their hope on me, and with it, the pressure to perform,

to get this right, to save their lives. But that's not what it was at all. I now realized that the look they were all giving me was one of thanks. Not thanks conditional on whether or not I get them out of this, but thanks for trying it all. Thanks for giving them hope. Like me taking action to keep from breaking down, they all needed to have hope to keep from completely losing it. And I gave them that hope when they needed it most, enough to get them through, at least for a little while, without just giving up entirely. I hold that moment in my mind as I crawl out from under the desk, my limbs shaking. I want to turn back so bad, but I don't. I can't. I open the science lab door and step out into the hallway. There are no creatures in sight. So I head back the way I came, turning right and then left

to get back into the main hall. They aren't there. The area where the SWAT members were attacked is a mess of blood and body parts. I can see strange footprints. No doubt, left behind by the creatures, leading away from the scene and around the corner, the same way the cops came. I wonder with terror if the creatures have escaped the school. I move that way, stepping over severed heads and around mangled limbs, slowly approaching the intersection. I can hear something. It sounds like gnawing, which makes me think they're still in the school. Poking my head around the corner, I see all of them there, munching on more dead police officers. The big one, Mr. Bemis, is there among them, his back to me. He's not far, and the other creatures are all around him.

That was one of the main instructions. Any students he turned had to be near when I injected him. I think I can get to him before they can rip me apart. I think. Pulling my head back around the corner, I breathe through my nose, trying to psych myself up. I can do this. I can fucking do this. I jump around the corner and lose my footing in the slippery blood on the floor.

I fall hard, and the syringe skitters out of my hand. The creatures all turn toward me. As one, they surge forward. I scramble over to the syringe, snapping it up, just as one of the creatures lunges at me. I swing the umbrella, hitting it in the face. Then I turn to run, heading back around the corner. Once again, my feet go out from under me as I slip on blood.

But this time I hang onto the syringe, and a little fall saves me from getting my head. head torn off by a set of savage claws that hit the air where my head just was. But now I'm on my back again, so I scramble around onto my hands and knees, seeing the dozen creatures closing in on me. I only have a moment before one of them is close enough to kill me. I dive toward them, sliding on the blood like it's a backyard water slide. They don't expect this, so I end up in the middle of them, right next to the big one, exactly as I wanted. I jabbed the big one with a syringe in the leg, depressing the plunger with my thumb, the black stuff disappears into its

body. A second later, the monster explodes into a cloud of black vapor. I breathe some in, and it stings my throat. But at least it doesn't smell like that green vapor that transformed Cliff and Sharon. The creatures who were getting ready to tear me apart start screaming and convulsing as they breathe the stuff in. And as the vapor dissipates, I see the transformation process I witnessed. earlier, but in reverse. Soon enough, I'm surrounded by 11 of my classmates, all of them back in human form, wearing their tattered clothes. They all blink, looking around like they're just waking up. When they see all the body parts and blood around, many of them throw up. I stand up and head down the hallway toward the exit to get the authorities. I'm more careful this time,

though. I've done enough slipping in blood for one day.