Chapter 9 – Crossfire: The History Wing Beast
Far down the hallway, hidden in darkness, tactical radios crackled with coded communication.
"Beta 1‑2 to Delta 1‑2, Bravo 1‑2, report," the team leader growled.
"Bravo in position. Nothing to report," came a curt reply.
"Beta 1‑2 positioned outside the teachers' hall."
"Delta 1‑2 approaching second entry."
The team leader breathed out slowly. "All units, proceed with the plan."
"Delta 1‑2, prepping flashbags. Countdown: five… four… three… two… one… DETONATE."
The school shook. A controlled cluster of explosions thundered through the teachers' hall—blinding, concussive, violent. Inside, the teachers screamed—many confused, many already wounded, none knowing what was happening.
The two assault teams burst in at once. Automatic rifles equipped with silencers spat death with terrifying precision. Teachers fell without even finishing their screams.
The mercenaries murdered every living thing in the room—because their target had not yet been identified. A bloodbath by protocol. A massacre by design.
The Professor
Professor White—the Ancient History teacher with the oversized mustache and bulging eyes—had been crouched on the floor when it happened. A sound tore out of him. A guttural, feral howl that froze the blood of every assault soldier in the room.
Then his body began to change.
Dark, coarse hair sprouted across his skin, shredding through the fabric of his gray suit as if it were paper. His shoes burst apart as enormous animalistic limbs forced their way through, claws scraping against the tile. His spine arched grotesquely. Muscles swelled, twisting and rearranging with sickening pops—bones cracking under the pressure of their own metamorphosis.
Sharp, lupine ears erupted from his skull. His mouth pushed forward into a monstrous snout, revealing multiple rows of serrated fangs made for ripping and devouring.
Within seconds, he was no longer human. He was a nightmare given flesh—a deformed beast born from rage and instinct. A creature that should not exist.
Before the soldiers could even react, the monster lunged. Its claws sliced through the first man's stomach and face in a single downward swipe—skin parting like warm butter. His entrails spilled out instantly. His face was carved open, unrecognizable. Blood sprayed in violent arcs.
The beast leaped onto the wall, its claws gripping the plaster like hooks, rebounding across the room with impossible speed. It dodged a rain of suppressed gunfire, then fell upon the second soldier—biting into his neck with such force that it nearly tore his head completely off.
A geyser of blood erupted, painting the floors, the walls, even its own fur.
With its mouth dripping red, the creature released a howl—not the sound of a wolf, but something older, something fueled by primal, unfiltered fury.
Then it bolted. It hurled itself through the window, shattering the glass, and jumped from the second floor.
The remaining soldier and the team leader stumbled back in shock—their brains struggling to process the carnage.
"Bravo, respond! Bravo, this is Beta 1!" the leader shouted into his radio, desperation cracking his voice. "Target is on the move! We need support! Call Extraction!"
His radio hissed with interference. "Alfa… Alfa… this is Beta 1! Respond! Requesting extraction!"
Static.
Then finally: "Beta Leader 1, operation incomplete. Target fleeing. Regroup. Target heading north, toward the tree line. Sending coordinates now. Alfa, respond, over."
"This is Alfa. Message received. Moving now, over."
"Coordinates received, over."
"Call extraction, over."
"Extraction arriving in twenty minutes, over."
Panic Across the Campus
While chaos consumed the teachers' hall, the rest of the school was descending into a different horror. On the upper floors—where classrooms were located—pure panic erupted. Teachers slammed doors shut, locking students inside. Some students cried uncontrollably. Others clung to each other in terror. Some prayed. Others screamed.
Security guards sprinted through the halls, desperate to respond to the attack. Many students—children of important and powerful families—called their parents. Their frantic calls mobilized authorities almost instantly.
Within minutes, the campus was surrounded. Police. Special forces. Firefighters. Ambulances. A perimeter was established, officers guiding terrified students and teachers toward evacuation points.
And then—
Detective Lieutenant Nash Martinez arrived with Officer Smith at her side. Determined. Focused. Unflinching.
Evacuation began at full volume. Hallways flooded with trembling students. Armed men fled the building in pursuit of the creature, leaving two of them behind to help secure the area and assist with the tactical retreat.
The school was no longer a school. It was a battlefield.
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Hook: That was how the calm ended, just before the storm began…
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