The Only Thing We Have To Fear

Forcibly Titled Part 17

Frieda doubled over and clutched her side stitch in pain. "What was that?" she wheezed. "What in the world is happening?"

Roman shook his head and answered, "Doesn't matter," as he watched Mr. Fish bang against the door. 

His hand slammed against the door six times before he realized he wasn't going to get back in without the specific key for the back door which he did not have on his person at the time. It was still locked in the top drawer of his desk.

The cut on Roman's leg started to throb. The cut was deep. Very deep. It was all he could do to get down those stairs, but he knew this was just the beginning. He pulled himself up on the door and took a shaky breath. He wasn't good with blood up until the second it was his own blood. As soon as he had an ulterior motive--like saving his own life--he could let anything slide. He pulled the fabric of his trousers up and pressed a wad of it against the cut. He took a limping step away from the door.

Frieda slid down the wall and crumpled up into a ball. She didn't want to break down crying in front of Roman, but she couldn't help herself.

"What's happening? I want to go home. I can't... I don.." she whimpered, wiping tears from her eyes on her shirt sleeves.

Roman clenched his teeth and took another limping step down the hall. He stared at the blood smears on the floor of the cafeteria and the spider-people lurking around the lower floor. He attempted to block out the pain and made a goal: make it to the end of the hall without getting noticed or falling.

Frieda wiped her eyes and looked up at Roman. His hot pink clothes made quite the statement. It was rare for Frieda to admit that anyone other than herself looked good in pink, that being the hardest color to pull off, but she thought the look suited him well. She surveyed him with her eyes, trying to find a reason why his eyes weren't drinking her in the way she was drinking him in. Carefully, her eyes trailed downward until they found the root of the problem. 

His hot pink clothes were now stained with a large splotch of dark red blood.

"Roman!" Frieda cried, staggering to her feet. "Are you okay?"

He shut his eyes closed tight and seethed in silence.

Frieda studied the pained look on his face, caused by her words. She glanced down the hall where a spider person was watching in calm silence. Instantly, she understood.

Frieda slipped an arm around Roman's shoulders and let him lean into her. She pondered how she could help him. The pitiful look on his face tugged at her heartstrings. Unlike Roman, she gave in to her emotions and led them lead him down the hall and back towards the gym.

As they turned down the hall, one of the spiders in the partial form of Frieda's freshman math teacher, Bryce Lae, crept toward them.

Frieda's breathing was hasty as she made haste in leading Roman towards the sports medicine supervisor.

Although his pain made it difficult to walk, it didn't impair his senses. He listened to his music too loud in the mornings when listening to everything else was too much. He could pick up on a conversation from across the room. Roman knew about the dirty gossip of everyone in his grade from the cheerleaders to the chess team. He often couldn't sleep when the sound of his own heartbeat kept him awake at night. He limped faster at the gentle sound of Bryce Lae's gangly spider legs scraping across the floor.

Frieda didn't notice as Bryce Lae's speed slowly increased and certainly didn't notice that Roman shut the door behind them when they turned into the office so quickly because their teacher was only three feet behind them. Giant spiders are quiet, but not silent.

As soon as the door shut, Frieda took a deep breath and directed Roman to sit on the table.