Silence and Don't You Dare Dream

The dusty corridor of the abandoned dormitory is drowned in semi-darkness, broken only by the constant hiss of an old radio. For a fleeting second, a massive, crimson pupil peers through a shattered window before slowly drifting upward, leaving a trail of visceral, clinging fear in its wake.

Marcus sits against the wall, his knuckles white as he grips a heavy pipe wrench.

The key is to keep your mind empty.

— You hear that scraping on the stairs? — he says quietly. — That's the former class president. She's looking for anyone more beautiful than her.