Don't Look

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You never should have walked in there. The ringing cell phone should have been warning enough.

But you can never just leave it alone, can you?

Ms. Thomas tries to stop you. Not that she tries very hard, but she does try. Bennet may have tried to stop you too, but you couldn't understand a word he said between gasping for air and those blubbering sobs.

You should have stayed outside.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you push the door open, splashing through the inch of water pooling on the floor. The ringing stops. Ms. Thomas's call must have gone to voicemail, you think. You feel the frown creep over your mouth like it has a will of its own as you look down at thick veins of pink liquid dissolving in the water around your feet. Every hair on your body stands on end, and the back of your neck prickles as if someone is poking at you with a thousand icy needles.

Bennet's partner stands rigid, frozen in shock in front of the open handicap stall. His chest moves in tiny hitches, the only visible sign that he's alive. You gulp down the hard lump that rises in your throat - a warning that you stupidly ignore.

You step gingerly. You don't want to make too much noise. The pink water darkens the closer you get. You already know that it's not pink at all; it's red. You stop right behind the maintenance guy and brace yourself to peer over his shoulder. Part of you is scared to death.

You should have listened to that part.

At the sight of the professor's twisted corpse head-first and upside-down in the toilet, you make a retching sound that snaps Bennet's partner out of his statuesque daze. He freaks out. You catch his elbow in your ribs and hit the wall hard as he runs howling out of the bathroom. You smack your head against the cinder block and slide to the wet floor. You're dizzy now, and can't get up. Not that you could move if you weren't dizzy; all you can do is sit and stare. The professor's chest is flayed open in a way that tells you right away: his heart is missing.

Missing. There's a bloody, gaping hole where it should be.

His lifeless, bulged eyes paralyze you, impaling you with an anguish darker than anything you've ever known. When you scream, the only sound to escape your throat is a breathy rasp of air.

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