How to Save Your School From Soul Stealing Demons

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3RD
2:57 PM
GIRL'S LOCKER ROOM, BATHROOM STALL

It's not possible.

I'm dreaming. I'm having another nightmare, that has to be it. All this death and cult stuff must have screwed with my brain and for once, I'm having a dream that isn't about the crash.

But God, it feels real. I can so clearly hear the shaky breaths of Watts and Renny and the dripping of a nearby sink. I can still smell the body spray lingering in the air from the girls who were in here before us. I can feel the hammering of my heart as I stare at Kayla's white eyes.

The truth is, I've gotten good at knowing the difference between a dream and real life these past six months. Sickness brews in my stomach as I have to accept that this doesn't feel like a dream. Not at all.

I'm sure she—it?—sees us through the crack in the stall, and dread washes over me as I brace myself for something. Something that ends with the three of us on the floor like Paul. And then what? Dead, like Greg and Pamela?

Kayla jerks and hunches over, letting out a guttural growl, like no sound I've ever heard a human make. Her body writhes, back lurching upwards again, and her skin turns ashen as white streaks crawl through her gold hair. I swear I can see every vein beneath her skin as it seems to tighten around her insides.

She grunts again and opens her mouth as if to scream, only, no sound comes out. And her mouth keeps opening, widening and stretching until I can hear the bones of her jaw pop, the sound reverberating off of the tiled room.

She drops to her knees and turns to Paul's limp body.

This is it. She's going to kill him, isn't she? She's going to tear into his throat.

She places her mouth over his and takes in a deep, shuddering breath. The color seeps back into her skin. Slowly, her hair, which had turned brittle and white, returns to its shiny, blonde state.

She leans back on her heels and wipes her mouth, completely back to normal. A soft, feminine hum of satisfaction comes from her, the complete opposite of the animalistic and distorted groans that she'd been emitting just seconds ago.

"Paul?" she says, voice filled with concern as she places a hand against his cheek.

She jostles him gently, saying his name a few more times, coaxing him awake. His eyes eventually flutter open, and he stares up at her in a daze.

"Oh, thank God! Baby, you fainted!" she says, cupping his face in her hands.

Paul moans as he sits up, bringing a hand to the back of his head. "I did?"

"You hit your head on the bench," she explains as he uses the seat stretching between the rows of lockers to help hold himself up. "We should get you to the nurse."

"Hurts like a bitch," he grumbles, standing up with her help. She wraps an arm around his waist as he rests against her shoulders, and the two of them walk slowly towards the exit. The door squeaks a few seconds later, then bangs shut.

All three of us jump at the noise—Watts yelps as his foot slips and lands in the toilet bowl, Renny curses, and I emit a muffled cry behind my palm.

But then we're frozen again, like none of us knows what to say. Like we're scared the other two might not have seen what we saw.

"Shit," Renny finally breaks the silence, seeming to snap out of her trance as she hops down from the toilet seat. Her shaking hands struggle with the latch on the door for a second before it finally opens. "They left through the hall. Ambrose."