Chapter One: Friends Are Like Potatoes

  Elijah skidded around the corner, sliding on the tiled floor but maintaining his momentum, running as fast as he could. This couldn’t be happening. How was it possible?

  There was a monster in his school, some sort of horrendous, savage eldritch creature straight out of his worst nightmares.

  Adrenaline pumped in his body like the blood that frequented it. Eyes closed, Elijah hid in the janitor’s closet, mumbling to himself.

  This isn’t real, he whispered. I’ll wake up in a couple minutes and continue eleventh grade just as I always do, with no giant man-eating creatures, just as always.

  Grudgingly, he forced himself to acknowledge that the day’s events were more visceral and realistic than a simple lucid dream, though.

  On the bright side, math had been less boring. Elijah had replayed the scene in his mind countless times already, but he did so again, sweat beading on his forehead. Miss Thatcher scratching her equations on the chalkboard, her voice droning on, the clicking of a thousand cicadas waking from their slumber; the hole opening up in the middle of the floor, and Emily Thatcher disappearing inside, shrill scream cutting through the air; the monster crawling from it, blood in its open jaws. He had witnessed as the beast devoured his classmates. A tear slid from his cheek. Every student that ran toward the exit had met a speedy demise. Only those who hid had escaped the vicious creature’s clutches.

  The screams of pain and despair erupting from the various surrounding halls caused Elijah to cover his ears, drowning out the sounds a little. The noise was unbearable, reminding him of the corpses he had seen coming here. He needed to find the exit. Actually, he already knew the exit’s location; he needed to reach the exit.

  The main exit was the first one the panicked students attempted to cross. No such luck. He had watched as the monster cut Melissa in half, her blood and guts spilling on the ground, staining it. Cowardly, he’d run then, unable to watch the horror unfolding. The south exit had been worse, though. Some lucky students passed the doors, but as more individuals rushed for the double doors, the beast wised up, rushing in and tearing the wailing teenagers to pieces. Elijah tried not to remember the carnage of the massacre, but it was impossible.

  Elijah had run, searching for any exit he could find, maybe a window. Now trapped in the west wing, he regretted never sneaking in this side of his high school with his friends; it was for seniors only. Despite Marques’ invitation a year back, he’d declined to come, afraid of the consequences.

  Thoughts of Marques brought more tears to Elijah’s bloodshot eyes. Marques was dead now, killed by the same monster that hunted Elijah.

  The monster had been chasing an unfamiliar student last he’d seen, but from the gurgle sound, that student was not running anymore.

  The door to the miniscule closet opened, hinges squeaking. Elijah craned his head up, holding in a labored breath.

  “Eli!” The girl outside shrieked, face pale, blood streaming from her chest, dress in tatters at her dirty, bruised feet. Thea, one of his closest childhood friends. She was only two years behind him in school, so she hadn’t been in his class when the creature arrived, thankfully. “Oh god, you’re okay! Can I scoot in with you?” Silently, Elijah nodded, bringing a finger to his lips and mouthing the words get in.

  “What?” Thea asked. “Was that a yes or—” A scream of shock and terror arose from her throat as she was thrown sideways, head hitting the wall, form limp. Elijah’s eyes widened as he saw the creature towering over her, screeching. Viciously, it bit down and ripped a piece of Thea’s stomach off her body. Elijah stifled a shriek as the beast turned away, showing his friend’s gaping wound. If not dead, she was a few seconds from heaven’s gates.

  The monster looked straight at Elijah. Its eyes were a clear, milky white, clearly blind, and standing up, he realized just how much it towered over him. Its six clawed arms flexed, muscles bulging, and it bared its teeth at him, massive fangs stained with the blood of his former classmates. There were spikes running all over its body, ripped clothes of departed students hanging from them, and its somewhat flat head only added to the horror it gave him.

  The creature had no nose, but the nostrils inlaid in its face sniffed as it got closer to Elijah, who didn’t dare move for fear of the beast hearing his movement.

  Closer and closer. Elijah only hoped the bleach smell in the closet masked his own. He should’ve used more deodorant. The monster approached snarling, just inches from him now. He stared at it, hands shaking.

  With one last sniff, the monster growled, turning away, uninterested. It walked down the hallway, sniffing, searching, listening. A sharp noise to the left made it turn, and it dashed to the north wing, claws scraping the ground.

  Elijah breathed a sigh of relief.

  For now, it was gone; Elijah needed to find an exit urgently before it came back.

  He found a dried sponge and threw it out of the janitor’s closet, making sure the beast wasn’t waiting for him to move. After a few strained, painful seconds, he slid into the hallway, searching for any sign of danger.

  Nothing. He was safe.

  He twisted his head sideways, tiptoeing down the hall and scanning the rooms. Elijah couldn’t see any windows, but they had to be somewhere.

  Another scream caused his heart to jump in his throat. Whoever had yelled was nearby. That was not good.

  Eventually, after a few quick turns, he found the school’s amphitheater. He swung open the entrance to the familiar chamber, sighing in relief. From the amphitheater, he could reach any of the windowed rooms. He was close to safety.

  The door squeaked. Elijah gasped and froze mid-step, heart beating faster than ever in its cage that was his chest. Straining his ears, he listened for any kind of noise, human or otherwise.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  There. Something was coming. He had to move. He skidded under a bench, positioning himself, getting ready to run in case he needed to. The monster was faster than him, but if it attacked, he had to do everything he could to escape it. Elijah understood the layout of the school better than the beast, having studied here for all his high school years. That had to mean something.

  The horrible creature came into view, dragging a limp, naked form after it. Elijah barely recognized the student. Marasi Reynolds. She was living yet, somehow, but the nasty wounds on her torso and face informed him she wouldn’t be alive for long.

  Roaring, the monster bit down, crunching on Marasi’s shaking head. Elijah pivoted away, not only in respect but also from the gore, his stomach churning.

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  A thud on the ground signified the creature losing interest in Marasi’s remains. It knew he was here, and it wanted to find him.

  A low, guttural noise escaped its mouth. Elijah heard it doing this before. When the creature had located a person or object of interest, it would make a strange sound from its throat, presumably for some sort of echolocation, like a mutated bat. The beast turned his head and stared at him, confirming his suspicion. Then it charged.

  Elijah yelped and jumped up, running for the amphitheater’s door. The beast ducked under the pew to snag him, and he smiled as it whipped its head from side to side, stuck.

  Motionless, he watched as the monster tried to help itself. That was his mistake.

  He realized he’d stood unmoving for too long when the bench ripped in two; the monster holding both sides in rage. Roaring, it flung the two parts of the split bench at the terrified Elijah, who flung himself, trying to dodge them. The first one flew straight over his head, shattering on the white wall a few feet away from his position.

  The second piece of the bench hit him right on his side.

  He fell to the ground, groaning. The animal closed in.

  These are my last moments, Elijah realized, unsure whether he felt peace or fear. The monster aimed to kill him, he understood that much. He tried to get up, but his side flared with pain. Groaning, he put his hand to his stomach. It came away red.

  The creature was getting closer. It could tell that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  With a strangled yell, someone slammed the entrance to the amphitheater open and ran at the snarling beast. It was a man, someone Elijah did not recognize, wielding a metal rod. Elijah didn’t recognize the person, but he was glad the man arrived with a simple yet hopefully effective weapon to save him.

  The monster attacked the man and roared, fangs glistening. Unafraid, he swung his pole, connecting with the monster’s head, sending it reeling back, blood gushing from the fresh wound in its face. The man lunged for the creature again, winking at Elijah, determination in his narrow gaze. This time, it was ready. One of its hands whipped out and grabbed the rod, yanking it back. Elijah’s savior tried to keep the rod, pulling on it, but it flew out of his hand, taking his arm with it in a horrible squelching sound. Screaming in pain, the man fell to the ground, clutching his wounded shoulder, and the beast stomped on his chest, ending his life.

  The creature swiveled once more to where Elijah was standing an instant before.

  But he wasn’t there anymore. He’d crawled over to the metal rod, and now he was clutching it, his last hope in a sea of despair. The beast was bleeding from where the rod had beaten it, so if he was careful, he could wound the enraged creature. That was all he wanted.

  Mind dizzy, he stood up, side flaring with pain, wielding the pole amateurishly. He’d never used a weapon, not for anything dangerous or pain-inducing, but it shouldn’t be very difficult.

  The monster charged at him. As soon as it reached a garishly long arm for him, Elijah closed his eyes and swung. Thunk. The beast screamed. As he opened his eyes, he saw the monster screeching in desperation, holding its newly limp arm. He must have broken it.

  Thank god.

  He walked backwards, careful to monitor the creature’s every movement. It wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead tending to its shattered arms, attempting to give life back to them. He was free.

  Crunch.

  Elijah froze as his foot stepped on a cardboard box. The creature turned to him, and he cursed to himself. I’m doomed. Once again, he sliced with his rod, expecting to hit flesh. And for the second time, the beast caught the pole, lithe fingers snagging it and pulling it with brute force. Elijah let go of it, falling backwards. When the monster threw it away, he knew. He would die, now, at the hands of this…thing, this impossible creature of crude creation, this demon spawned from the deepest pits of hell, this feral, gruesome alien animal.

  The monster crashed into him, claws raking his stomach. He screamed in horror and agony, his blood staining the otherwise spotless floor.

  The creature opened its massive jaw and reached for his head. Elijah said a silent prayer for a God he hoped would be listening to him to save him.

  Everything went black.

  Elijah woke up standing on his two feet. That was the most typical aspect of the most peculiar day of his life, one he would remember for years to come.

  Despite having never seen much of the Sooner state, although he lived there, the first thing he understood was that he was no longer in Oklahoma, at least, not in any part of Oklahoma he recognized.

  To describe it simply, this was a marvelous room fit for a palace and a royal monarch. And pink. It was very pink. Not that he disliked it; pink was a brilliant color. But this…this was overdoing it.

  There was a massive four-poster bed in the middle of the room, facing the wooden double-doors with their metal ring knobs; its bedsheets done perfectly fluffy and comfortable-looking; the pillows—ten of them—lined up straight, giving a more homely feel to the room. It could fit at least seven Elijahs. The curtains decorating the bed were pink, obviously, and drawn to hide someone if they were sleeping. There were massive windows in the strange room, too, semi-circle shaped, straight out of his little sister’s fairy tale stories. Could be a suicide hazard, he thought wryly. My entire body could fit on the windowsill. They were ajar now, letting in the warm sunlight coming from an unfamiliar view of a city that Elijah had never seen before.

  The entire chamber was furnished in what Elijah thought was silk. There were portraits of cats—so cute!— and an unfamiliar girl on the wall, who looked like a princess. That was the only way to describe her beauty and her posture, dominating yet endearing, almost as if she was looking at a servant.

  The next thing Elijah noticed was his clothing. He hadn’t been wearing this before…

  The monster. The memory hit him like a brick, knocking a little of sadness into his shock, causing his heart to hammer faster, adrenaline rushing through him at the thought.

  Had it been a dream? If so, where was he now? Maybe this was the dream, and Elijah would wake in heaven, having been murdered by that ferocious animal?

  Either way, he needed to assess his situation.

  He was dressed in a frilly dress, pink—no surprise there—but filled with lace and had a plunging neckline that made him blush, although he wasn’t sure why, considering his gender. That was abnormal. It felt strange on him…but that part was normal. He’d never worn a dress before, though. But he had to admit, it looked beautiful on him; then again, most things did.

  Wait a second, he thought. Were those breasts?

  He poked his chest. Yup, they were real. He had breasts, strange as that was.

  What the hell?

  Turning, he saw a mirror on the wall, inlaid with gold and bedecked with jewels, not unlike his neck. All the necklaces and jewelry were weighing on him, and he knew that what he was wearing would cost him more than his parent’s entire salary, the sapphires and diamonds gleaming brightly as if tempting him to steal them from his own body.

  Elijah walked to the mirror and gaped at his unfamiliar reflection.

  He was a girl. A hot one, yes, but a girl? Blonde hair falling down her neck, full chest accentuated by the bust on the dress, makeup, shock written all over her face, lips full, eyes bright and beautiful, massive lashes, and a swan earring on each ear.

  “This must be a dream,” he said to himself. “How do I get out of here?”

  Elijah pinched himself on the face, not expecting it to work. The pain caused him to wince, and he knew he would have a welt there, but he ignored it, instead looking at the woman staring back at him in the mirror, expression on her face reflecting what he was thinking. Deep inside, he knew it was no dream, because his senses were too vivid: the dress felt smooth, the smells of perfume sweet and perfect. This felt too real, just like the day at the classroom had been, just like the monster had been, just like the corpses and the blood had been. Heart sinking, Elijah lay down on the bed, dress flowing over him like the waves of a roiling sea. His mind spun with a multitude of thoughts, each worse than the last.

  The bed was incredibly comfortable, tempting him to forget his problems, enveloping him, but he just had too much on his mind to accept sleep, even if for a moment he wondered if sleep was even possible. This place, as welcoming as it looked, terrified him. His mom always told him the men are terrified of what is unfamiliar, and now Elijah understood what she meant.

  Where was he? When was he? Why was he here? How did he get here? And most importantly, who was he? Clearly, he was not Elijah Ravan anymore, the seventeen-year-old kid from Norman, Oklahoma anymore. At least, his body wasn’t, although his mind still felt like his own, else why would he be having these thoughts?

  Hello, a chipper and almost pissed voice suddenly rose in his head, feminine in tone and delivery, although it had no pitch. You stole my body, you bastard. Can I have it back now?