Noah and Jamie moved quickly, the mirror heavy in their grip as they emerged from the cluttered storage room. Strangely, the corridors were quiet.
Too quiet.
Jamie's breath was ragged. "Did we lose it?"
Noah didn't answer.
The silver creature—loud, grotesque, screaming their names—was gone. Not a trace of it. Not a shadow. Not a whisper.
That made it worse.
Noah's gut twisted.
"If it's not here…" he muttered, eyes narrowing.
Jamie gave him a look.
"…then it's somewhere else."
Jamie's face fell.
"Team Broadcast," he breathed.
Noah tightened his grip on the mirror's edge. "We move. Now."
Together, they shuffled as fast as they could, the shard between them glinting faintly under the flickering hallway lights. When they reached the main corridor turn, Jamie paused to catch his breath—and froze.
A silhouette stood at the far end of the hall.
Thin. Tall. Still.
Jamie's heart skipped. "Mr. Halbrook?" he called out instinctively.
Noah spun toward him, eyes wide. "Jamie, no—!"
The figure twitched.
Then its head jerked to the side with a sickening crack.
Both boys froze.
Jamie felt his throat tighten as the shadow began to move—fast. The man dropped onto all fours with an audible crunch of bones, limbs distorting into unnatural lengths, fingernails screeching across the floor like knives.
Its silver eyes locked onto them, wide and ravenous.
"RUN!" Noah yelled.
Jamie turned on his heel, gripping the mirror with both arms as they bolted.
Behind them, Halbrook's twisted body scraped and clawed at the floor, his voice a distorted snarl:
> "Jaaaamiiieee—class isn't over."
"I NEVER LIKED YOUR CLASSES!" Jamie screamed back, panic overtaking him.
---
Meanwhile, Team Broadcast had problems of their own.
Ezra and Quinn pressed their backs against the wall, just a few doors down from the broadcast room.
But they weren't alone.
A silver figure stood in front of the door, unmoving but alert, as though guarding it.
Its legs were backwards. Its arms were longer than they should be. Its faces… its faces had no features, just a smooth reflective surface that shimmered in the dark.
Ezra cursed under her breath. "Of course."
Quinn clutched a pipe she had found, hands trembling. "We need to distract it. Or draw it away."
"If we attack it—"
"We die," Quinn finished.
Ezra nodded grimly. "Yep."
She peeked around the corner again. Still there. The silver figure hadn't moved an inch, but somehow, it felt like it was aware of them—like it was waiting.
Quinn closed her eyes. "Think, think…"
"Wait." Ezra's eyes sharpened. "These things… they mimic, right?"
"Yeah?"
"What if we give it something to copy?" She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her phone.
"…What are you doing?"
Ezra started playing a recording of herself, one she had saved by accident during a voice memo rant about math homework. Loud. Full of frustration. "Let's see if it bites."
She hit play and threw the phone down the hallway.
The voice echoed.
> "I swear if this x equals y garbage shows up on the test again I'm—"
The silver guardian twitched, then slowly turned toward the sound.
A beat passed.
Then it crawled after it, slowly at first, then faster, mimicking Ezra's voice in a whisper.
> "X… equals… why… why… why…"
Quinn's eyes widened. "That actually worked."
Ezra grinned. "I'm always my own worst enemy."
"Let's move!"
They rushed toward the broadcast room, and Ezra slid the key Paige had snuck her earlier into the lock.
It clicked.
They pushed the door open and slipped inside—just as the silver mimic turned its head back toward them, realizing it had been tricked.
Quinn slammed the door shut.
---
Back with Noah and Jamie, the hallway felt endless. The mirror cut into their hands, but they didn't dare stop.
"Up ahead!" Noah shouted.
They reached the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. Jamie slipped once, nearly dropping the mirror.
The silver-creature-turned-teacher snarled behind them.
At the top of the stairs, Jamie slammed the emergency door closed just in time. They shoved a broom through the handles.
For now… they had a few moments of peace.
Gasping for breath, Noah looked around. "Where's the broadcast room?"
Jamie pointed. "Right hallway, left door."
They began to run again.
---
Inside the radio room, Quinn was scanning the dials. Ezra plugged in the mic cord and powered up the old-school system.
"What frequency reaches the whole school?" Quinn asked.
Ezra glanced over her shoulder. "All of them. We're going to blow every speaker in the building."
She twisted a dial, adjusting the static.
Then she pulled something from her pocket—a small metal triangle. A music tool. And a hammer.
She looked at Quinn. "Sharp enough?"
Quinn nodded. "Do it."
Ezra took a deep breath.
And struck.