The bell above the door chimed as Marcus and Josh stepped out of Henley’s Corner Store, their breath visible in small puffs against the cold air. The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the streets still glistened black under the grey noon sky, and everything smelled like wet concrete and earthworms.

  “Boys,” came the gravelly voice behind them.

  They turned. Mr. Henley stood in his doorway, arms crossed, the fluorescent light from inside making his face look pale and sharp. He was a thin man with deep-set eyes that seemed to catalog everything.

  “You didn’t forget something, did you?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer wasn’t one he’d like.

  Marcus rolled the red lollipop in his mouth, the candy clicking hard against his teeth. He gave a casual shrug. “Don’t worry, Mr. Henley. Just a small thing for the road. My dad’ll square it up on the tab next time.”

  Henley’s mouth tightened. “Mm-hmm. That’s what your old man keeps saying.” He shook his head, muttering, “You Callahans… always a minute late and a penny short. Candy doesn’t pay for itself, y’know. Somebody’s got to keep the lights on in here.”

  He gave them a long, narrowing look, then snorted. “Shouldn’t you brats be in school?”

  Marcus pulled the lollipop out and twirled it between his fingers. “Teacher work day,” he said smoothly. “Half day.”

  Josh adjusted the grip on his bag, nodding in agreement, though his eyes didn’t quite meet Henley’s. “Oh, yeah. Place was already clearing out when we left.”

  The old man’s gaze lingered on them for another moment, then he shrugged and retreated inside. The bell chimed again as the door swung shut.

  “Jesus, that guy gives me the creeps,” Josh muttered once they were far enough away.

  Marcus slipped the candy back in his mouth, unfazed. “He’s just a nosy old bastard. Heard he skims the till whenever the taxman’s around. Don’t worry about him.”

  “I’m not worried,” Josh said, hitching the bag higher on his shoulder. “I’m worried about hauling this damn thing by myself. And why do I have to, anyway? It’s not like you don’t have hands.”

  “You’re the strong one, Josh.” Marcus grinned, a quick, mischievous flash of teeth. “Besides, I’m navigating.” He held up his phone, its screen showing a blurry map with a single red pin.

  They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, their footsteps echoing off the wet pavement. The neighborhood was quiet. Most people were at work, kids were in school, and the grey sky made everything feel muted and sleepy.

  They turned onto Barrow Lane, a quiet residential street lined with modest two-story houses. Most had small front yards, some with gardens that had seen better days. The trees were bare except for a few stubborn leaves that hung on desperately to the branches, rattling in the occasional breeze.

  “There,” Marcus said, checking his phone. “Seven-nineteen. This is it.”

  They stopped in front of a house that looked much like the others on the street, except somehow more tired. The paint on the shutters was peeling, and the small front yard was overgrown with weeds that had turned brown with the season. A rusted iron gate hung slightly askew on its hinges.

  Marcus studied the house, his lollipop forgotten in his cheek.

  “You think he’s really in there?” Josh asked.

  Marcus glanced at his phone again. “Has to be. Where else would he go?”

  “I don’t know, man. If I’d been through what he’s been through...” Josh trailed off, then shook his head. “He’s probably gone completely nuts by now.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Marcus asked quietly.

  Josh considered this. The house stared back at them with dark windows, all the curtains drawn tight. No sign of life except for a faint glow that might have been a television in what looked like the living room.

  “It’s getting late,” Josh said, checking the time again. “Maybe we should head back. It’s going to start soon.”

  But Marcus was already moving toward the gate. “Come on. We’re already here.”

  “Marcus—”

  “Just a quick visit. In and out.”

  The gate creaked loudly as Marcus pushed it open, the sound seeming to echo in the quiet street. Josh hesitated, then followed, the weight of the bag making his shoulder ache.

  “Why is this so important to you?” Josh asked as they walked up the cracked concrete path to the front door.

  Marcus paused at the bottom of the porch steps. His hand went to his mouth, touching the lollipop lightly. “I had a dream about him,” he said.

  “A dream?”

  “He was calling for help. I could hear him, but I couldn’t find him.” Marcus looked up at the dark windows. “He’s in there right now. I can feel it. Just like in the dream.”

  Josh felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. “That’s... that’s really weird, man.”

  “I know.” Marcus climbed the steps, his footsteps hollow on the wooden porch. “But I can’t shake it. It’s like... like he’s still calling.”

  Josh followed reluctantly. The house loomed over them, and up close he could see that the curtains weren’t just drawn. They were layered, thick fabric over what looked like sheets or blankets. Someone really didn’t want to see out. Or didn’t want anyone seeing in.

  “What are you doing?” Josh whispered as Marcus approached the front door.

  “Shh.” Marcus held up a finger, then pulled out his phone. “Try calling him.”

  Josh fumbled for his own phone with his free hand and dialed. Through the door, they could hear the faint sound of a phone ringing inside. It rang four times, then went to voicemail.

  “No answer,” Josh whispered.

  “I know he’s in there.” Marcus raised his hand and knocked, three sharp raps that seemed unnaturally loud in the hush of noon.

  Nothing.

  He knocked again, harder this time.

  “Kevin!” he called out. “We know you’re in there!”

  Josh grabbed his arm. “Jesus, Marcus, the whole neighborhood’s going to hear you.”

  “Kevin! It’s Marcus and Josh! Open up!”

  For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, faintly, they heard movement inside. Footsteps on stairs, slow and careful. And more footsteps, closer now.

  “Who is it?” The voice was muffled by the door, but they could hear the suspicion in it.

  “It’s us, man,” Marcus said. “Marcus and Josh.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Another moment passed. “What do you want?”

  “You’ve been missing for days, dude. We’re worried about you.” Marcus pressed closer to the door. “Stuff’s been happening at school. We need to talk.”

  “Are you alone?”

  Josh and Marcus exchanged glances. “Yeah,” Marcus called back. “Just us. No one else knows we’re here.”

  “Come on, Kevin,” Josh added, surprising himself. “We’re freezing our butts off out here.”

  They heard the sound of locks turning, multiple locks, one after another. The door creaked open, just a crack at first, revealing a pale face with dark, bruised eyes. It was Kevin. His hair was a greasy mess, and he was wearing a ratty, oversized sweatshirt. He looked like a ghost, a hollowed-out version of the kid they knew from art class.

  “In here, quick,” he muttered, opening the door wider. “Get inside before someone sees you.”

  They stepped into the house, and Josh’s first thought was that it smelled wrong. Not bad, exactly, but stale. Like air that had been breathed too many times. The living room was a disaster zone, empty pizza boxes stacked on the coffee table, soda cans scattered around, a gaming controller abandoned on the couch. The television was on but muted, showing some daytime talk show.

  “Kevin,” Josh muttered, his nose wrinkling. “What happened here?”

  Kevin ran a hand through his greasy hair. “Mom’s been at work all week. Some conference thing upstate. She left me money for food and said she’d be back this weekend. She does this sometimes.”

  “So you’ve just been... living on pizza and video games?” Marcus asked.

  “Pretty much.” Kevin shrugged, but there was something defensive in his posture. “It’s not like I had anywhere else to go.”

  He walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “You guys want something to drink? I think I’ve got some soda or... yeah, just soda.”

  “We’re good,” Marcus said, still looking around the trashed living room.

  “Actually,” Josh said, “could I use your bathroom?”

  “Sure. Upstairs, second door on the right.”

  Josh headed for the stairs. The boards creaked under his weight, and he could hear Marcus and Kevin talking quietly below, though he couldn’t make out the words.

  The upstairs hallway was dim, lit only by what little light filtered through a small window at the far end. Josh found the bathroom and set the bag down outside the door, grateful to finally be rid of it.

  The relief was immediate and intense. He’d been holding it for the last twenty minutes, too focused on their mission to pay attention to his bladder. As he finished and washed his hands, he could hear footsteps on the stairs—Marcus and Kevin coming up.

  He opened the bathroom door and picked up the bag, but as he turned toward the stairs, he noticed another door was slightly ajar. Kevin’s bedroom, presumably. Something made him pause.

  There was a smell coming from the room. Not the stale air from downstairs, but something else. Something organic and unpleasant, like dirty laundry that had been left wet too long.

  The footsteps were getting closer. Josh knew he should just head back downstairs, but something pulled him toward the open door. He pushed it open a little wider and stepped inside.

  The room was a mess, but not the casual mess of the living room. This was different, frantic somehow. Clothes were scattered everywhere, the bed was unmade with sheets twisted into knots, and there were dishes with moldy food on the nightstand.

  The smell was stronger in here, sharp and sour. Josh breathed through his mouth and looked around. Near the foot of the bed, partially hidden under a pile of dirty clothes, he spotted a magazine. The cover showed a beautiful mountain landscape with the title ‘National Geographic’ in yellow letters.

  Something about it looked out of place, too neat compared to everything else in the room. Josh bent down and picked it up, and immediately another magazine slipped out from inside it and fell to the floor.

  This one was definitely not National Geographic.

  Josh stared at it for a moment, his face flushing hot. The cover showed two men in a pose that left nothing to the imagination. Bold letters across the top advertised content that made Josh’s stomach twist with a mixture of embarrassment and something else he didn’t want to examine too closely.

  Footsteps in the hallway now, getting close.

  Josh quickly picked up the second magazine and shoved it back inside the National Geographic, then stuffed both under Kevin’s pillow just as the door opened wider.

  “What are you doing in here?” Kevin stood in the doorway, Marcus behind him. Kevin’s voice was sharp, suspicious.

  “I, uh…” Josh gestured vaguely around the room. “Wrong door, I guess.”

  Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “The bathroom’s right there.” He pointed to the door directly across the hall.

  “Yeah, figured as much.” Josh moved toward the door, trying to look casual. “You might want to open a window in here or something. Smells like piss.”

  Kevin’s face went red, but he didn’t say anything. He just stepped aside to let Josh pass.

  They all went back downstairs, the tension following them like a shadow. Kevin threw himself down on the couch with exaggerated casualness, picking up the gaming controller.

  “So,” he said, not looking at them. “What did you want to tell me?”

  Marcus pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and studied it for a moment before answering. “The Game’s changing, Kevin.”

  Kevin’s hand tightened on the controller. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s getting stronger. Smarter. The safe rooms aren’t as safe as they used to be.” Marcus sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing Kevin. “Yesterday, it got through a locked door. Just… walked right through like the lock wasn’t even there.”

  “That’s impossible,” Kevin said, but his voice was shaky.

  “Is it?” Josh sat down on the arm of the couch. “Remember what happened to Jake Martinez? Found him in the supply closet, door locked from the inside. How do you explain that?”

  Kevin was quiet for a long moment, staring at the muted television. A woman was crying about something while a man in a suit nodded sympathetically.

  “You’re trying to scare me,” Kevin said finally.

  “No,” Marcus said quietly. “We’re trying to warn you.”

  “Warn me about what? I’m not even at school anymore. I don’t have to deal with any of that shit.”

  Marcus and Josh exchanged a look. Josh nodded slightly.

  “Kevin,” Marcus said, “we died in the Game.”

  Kevin laughed, but it sounded forced. “Right. Sure you did. That’s why you’re sitting here talking to me.”

  “Yesterday,” Josh said. “Third-period bell. I was trying to get to the safe room in the east wing when it caught me in the hallway.” He touched his chest absently. “Went right through my ribs. I could feel my heart stop.”

  “And I died trying to save him,” Marcus added. “Stupid, really. Should have just kept running.”

  Kevin was staring at them now, the controller forgotten in his lap. “This isn’t funny, guys.”

  “Do we look like we’re joking?” Marcus asked.

  Kevin studied their faces. There was something different about them, now that he was really looking. Their skin was too pale, and their eyes were flat and dark, like deep water.

  “You’re sick,” Kevin whispered. “Both of you. This is some kind of breakdown or something.”

  “The Game wants you back, Kevin,” Josh said. “It doesn’t like it when people try to leave.”

  “I’m not playing anymore!” Kevin’s voice cracked. “I’m done with all of that! I’m staying here, I’m safe here!”

  “Are you?” Marcus asked. “Then why haven’t you heard the bell?”

  Kevin frowned. “What bell? There’s no bell here. That’s the whole point.”

  Josh reached for the heavy bag he’d been carrying. “We brought you something.”

  He lifted it onto the coffee table and unzipped it. Inside was a chunk of twisted metal and plastic, wires hanging from it like entrails. It looked like it had been torn from a wall by something with incredible force.

  “The announcement speaker from the main hallway,” Josh said. “We thought you might want to hear it one more time.”

  Kevin scrambled backward on the couch. “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

  “We want to give you a head start,” Marcus said. “It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

  “Let me close my eyes first,” Josh said, reaching toward the speaker. “All of them.”

  “Okay,” Marcus replied, his voice dreamy and distant. “Let’s count them together. One...”

  “Two...”

  The speaker crackled to life, and the familiar bell tone filled the room, impossibly loud, impossibly real.

  Kevin screamed.

  His eyes snapped open. He was in his bed, sheets soaked with sweat and something else that made his face burn with shame. The room was dark except for the light spilling in from the hallway.

  “Kevin!” His father appeared in the doorway, flipping on the bedroom light. “Are you okay?”

  Downstairs, a baby started crying, his little sister, awakened by his screaming.

  “I’ll get her,” his mother’s voice called from down the hall. “You check on Kevin.”

  His father rushed to the bed, his face lined with worry. “Hey, buddy. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

  Kevin was shaking, his breath coming in short gasps. His father sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him into a hug, not caring about the wet sheets.

  “Was it the dream again?” his father asked gently. “About Marcus and Josh?”

  Kevin nodded against his father’s shoulder.

  “Kevin, I told you. They’re fine. I talked to Josh’s dad just this afternoon. They’re both doing okay. They’re worried about you, actually. They want to visit.”

  “No,” Kevin said quickly. “No visits. I don’t want to see them.”

  His father pulled back to look at him. “Son, you can’t stay locked up in this house forever. You’re going to have to face this eventually.”

  “I can’t.” Kevin’s voice was fragile. “You don’t understand what it’s like there.”

  “Then help me understand. Talk to me.”

  Kevin started to speak, then stopped. How could he explain about the Game? About the bells that turned teachers into monsters? About the way reality seemed to bend and break during those thirty minutes of hell every day?

  He turned on the bed, and something crinkled under his pillow. Frowning, he reached beneath it and pulled out a magazine.

  National Geographic. A mountain landscape on the cover.

  Kevin stared at it, his hands trembling. He hadn’t put this here.

  But as he held it, he could feel the weight of something inside it, something that had been hidden between the pages. Something that made his stomach twist with a mixture of fear and shame that he couldn’t quite name.

  His father was saying something about bringing water, about changing the sheets, about maybe calling the doctor in the morning. But Kevin wasn’t listening anymore.

  He was staring at the magazine in his hands, wondering how something from a dream could be sitting in his bed, real and solid and impossible.

  Outside his window, somewhere in the distance, he could swear he heard the faint sound of a school bell ringing.

  But that was impossible.

  Wasn’t it?